Fighting B-rank natural killers without a weapon was no easy task.
The lycans moved like liquid death—fast, coordinated, their claws capable of tearing through steel. They didn't attack recklessly, they probed, tested and searched for weaknesses with the patience of apex predators who knew their prey couldn't escape.
And Aiden was surrounded.
Twelve lycans formed a loose circle around him, each one positioned to cover another's blind spot. Pack tactics refined over countless hunts. If one attacked and he dodged, another would be waiting. If he focused on defense, they'd wear him down through attrition.
It should have been terrifying.
Instead, Aiden's smile grew wider.
His hands rose slowly, fingers splayed. Sword Aura erupted from each digit, extending like invisible claws. The energy stretched half a meter from his fingertips, sharp enough to cut through anything, forming ten gleaming talons of condensed killing intent.
He looked less human and more beast.
