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The hazy night curled around the woods like mist.
Night lay misty over the Arathi Highlands.
Somewhere, a fierce battle raged.
The Infinite Dragonflight dragon surged with overwhelming momentum, powerful waves of aura rising from his body. Already at the Ninth Rank Peak, he had now taken a berserk potion.
A violent stirring of the soul radiated from the dragon.
A faint layer of soul pressure spread outward, sweeping in every direction.
The agile troll guard's hands faltered briefly. When he recovered, both his footwork and his attacks had grown noticeably slower.
Zulder's eyes nearly split with rage at the sight. That scum had used his potion and actually developed soul pressure.
Soul pressure was the hallmark of a Heroic Powerhouse. Like an aura, it exerted overwhelming force on anyone below that level.
Speed, attack power-everything was diminished.
On raw strength alone, a Heroic Powerhouse could withstand a combined assault from only five Ninth Rank Peak opponents. With soul pressure unleashed, that number doubled to ten.
The soul pressure surrounding the dragon was only the faintest layer, not yet true soul pressure. It lacked the potency of a Heroic Powerhouse's, but here and now...
Its appearance immediately turned the tide for the dragon, who had been at a disadvantage.
The berserk potion had already strengthened him, while that faint layer of soul pressure weakened the troll guard and Zulder. With one side strengthened and the other weakened, the gap became enormous.
Run! I can't fight him head-on! A course of action instantly came to Zulder.
Without the slightest hesitation, he let out a piercing cry, shouting in a special language as he turned and fled into the distance.
"Back to the tribe! Once we reach the tribe,