Time seemed to slow in an instant, stretching the sound of breathing beside their ears.
Several gazes swept over the male Bearer. In that fleeting moment, had he torn off his arm first, or had the Monster Wolf bitten down faster? Those were two entirely different, unresolved outcomes, intertwining into the same question within every pair of eyes.
Ruger was naturally one of those watching, but he did not concern himself with any of that.
He raised both hands, and ten Ash Bullets shot forth. The Grey Bullet Spell showed no favoritism, sparing none of the Bearers. Whether they had been bitten or not, they would be bitten soon enough.
The tall, burly pig-headed Burden Object spewed gray mist, expanding its range to keep Ruger away from the male Bearer. Yet the gray mist posed no harm to Bearers and Burden Objects like them.
Ruger let himself be touched by it slightly to get a feel for it. Once he had a rough understanding, he charged in. Fear and hesitation would only lead to a stalemate.
And a stalemate meant accidents would breed.
The moment he entered, surrounded by gray mist, a corrosive sensation immediately assailed him.
Ruger could feel the vitality a life fighter accumulated daily draining from his Fighter's Mark. The formidable vitality of a demon and Dragonkin, combined with the reserves in his Fighter's Mark, kept him from immediately becoming an unsightly corpse, but he could not remain in this gray mist for long.
His figure flashed past.
The Foul-Smelling Skin he had calculated to use was not cast once he entered range.
Changes were happening every moment.
The Monster Wolf abruptly turned around, abandoning its Entanglement with the pig-headed Burden Object and charging toward him.
Dog and wolf rushed at each other, meeting in the blink