A short distance away from Amon, another part of the battlefield was drenched in blood and chaos.
Scarlett stood alone there, surrounded by multiple monsters.
'More than thirty monsters,' she thought as her eyes traveled over them.
More than thirty monsters had encircled her from all sides, their grotesque forms closing in with hunger and rage, their screeches overlapping into a deafening noise that echoed through the forest, where trees had fallen.
"Grrrraaahhh!"
"Skreeeeech!!"
But she did not step back from their numbers. Those numbers meant little to her.
She was not afraid, not even once. Her expression remained cold and indifferent.
As if the creatures before her were nothing more than insects.
Her crimson blade shimmered in her hand, formed entirely from her own blood, yet it looked more solid and refined than any forged weapon.
Without hesitation, she moved. Her body blurred forward.
