Ethan settled into his concealed position, analysing both fighters.
Let them weaken each other further.
The City Lord's axe carved silver arcs through the air, each strike carrying devastating force.
Yet exhaustion showed in the fractional delays between attacks, the slight tremor in his stance.
The monkey deflected with its cracked staff.
"Getting slow, little lord," it taunted between parries.
Ezekiel's response came as a horizontal slash that opened another gash across the creature's ribs.
Where's the roar?
The City Lord's silver aura flickered as he finally realised something major had happened. No earth-shaking footsteps, no roars.
His aura swept the ruined district, probing for the behemoth's massive presence.
Nothing.
Gone. The High-Silver Behemoth is gone.
His perception widened, searching for any trace of the colossal aura that should have dominated the area.
Dead. How?
