Ethan punched the Master rank creature without holding back.
The impact was clean and precise. The monster's chest caved slightly, and all the air was forced out of its lungs in a choking wheeze. As Ethan pulled his fist back, something thick and slimy splashed onto his knuckles.
He froze.
A sticky, husky liquid clung to his skin that was dark and half-rotten. The smell hit him a heartbeat later.
"Blerrghh!"
Ethan staggered back and gagged, his stomach twisting violently.
After killing people, after seeing corpses rot on battlefields, he had thought nothing could ever smell worse than that. He was wrong.
"What the fuck?" he cursed, wiping his hand against the floor in disgust.
"Where did these sons of bitches even come from?"
Around him, the banquet hall had become a nightmare.
