I knew she didn't have a chance here. The disparity in power was no longer a gap; it was a canyon. I had a Bulltor—a level-five, highly elite warrior equipped with two innate skills and a two-million-coin sledgehammer.
He was an absolute as*-kicker, a juggernaut of bronze and bone. Even if the Succubus managed to summon double the number of warriors she currently had, they would be nothing more than wheat before his scythe.
"You… Stay away… Stay away from me now!" she screamed, her voice cracking in a high-pitched panic.
As I took another deliberate step forward, her survival instincts overrode her reason. She didn't wait for a negotiation. It seemed she gave a mental command to her front line to eliminate me. Warriors were bound to their summoners through thought; they moved as an extension of her own desperate will.
