Ethan burst through the gap that had been blown open. The instant he broke out of the encirclement, the suffocating pressure crushing his chest finally loosened.
He hovered higher up and glanced back at the battlefield below—still drowned in light and webbed energy—and for the first time, a clearer judgment formed in his mind about these lord-class existences of Elysion.
They were too strong.
And every single one of them had a defined post, a defined warfront.
This wasn't a world made up of a few scattered powerhouses. It was a world with iron hierarchy—an organization so vast it was terrifying.
Ethan let out a slow breath and didn't allow himself to linger on it.
If he couldn't take down a lord-class existence head-on right now, then he'd switch targets.
He rose higher, his eyes turning to the enemy troops below as power began to spin up inside him at high speed. If he couldn't kill Rohanix immediately, then he'd butcher Rohanix's army first.
