The two Rank-7 mutants had long experienced what the end of the world felt like through Chu Han's smooth, instinctive fighting. Barely more than a minute had passed since his declaration of "Kill!"
But looking around, looking at the ground, mutant corpses were everywhere. The air reeked of sour, pungent mutant blood. They did not dare imagine how many mutants had died, nor were they capable of changing the course of the battle.
In a battle between Rank-7 experts, whether mutants or Wolf Fang Regiment members, everyone around them had tacitly retreated far away, leaving a wide open area for them. They feared that a single burst of energy might affect them.
So now, before the two mutants stood only the corpses of their companions, the Rank-7 mutant still whimpering and rolling about on the ground, and Chu Han, standing two meters away.
Whoosh!
With moonlight at his back, Chu Han spun the huge Black Axe in his hand through the night sky, flinging off the mutant blood staining it. The scattering liquid formed an arc in midair before, following the pointed tip of the Asura Battle Axe, coming to a steady halt ten centimeters above the ground.
Chu Han had performed this blood-flinging motion countless times in battles large and small. It had become an instinctive habit of clearing filth from his battle axe. Quick as it was, the movement blended with his own presence, carrying a faint yet oppressive aura that matched his personality.
He had been a general for a year, domineering from beginning to end. All of that had shaped the fierce offensive momentum that unconsciously radiated from Chu Han in battle. No one could stop him; whoever stood in his way would be cut down.
The two Rank-7 mutants stood opposite Chu Han and clearly