I nodded to my warriors, a silent command for them to maintain the perimeter, before vaulting over the side of the chariot. I gripped the long rope, sliding down with a friction that burned against my palms, but I didn't care.
The moment my boots touched the scorched earth, I didn't stand idle for even a single second. I burst into a dead sprint, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I knew I was working within a razor-thin margin of time. The Curasee was a parasitic clock, ticking down toward the total erasure of the Jumper's soul. As I ran, I drew my two swords, the steel singing as it left the scabbards.
For a fleeting moment, I felt a sharp pang of regret about the massive glaive sitting unused in my inventory. If I only had the raw strength and the cultivation base required to wield that legendary weapon, this battle wouldn't be such a desperate gamble.
