Timothy charged in without hesitation.
He was short on time and needed to finish this quickly.
More importantly, he needed strength.
To him, these creatures were nothing more than free stats.
The Volcanic Cliff Drakes, which resembled mutated lizards, moved in organized groups, but none had more than five members.
It didn't matter.
With his enhanced perception and the machete in his grip, he overwhelmed them single-handedly.
It was a slaughter.
From an outsider's perspective, the true monster in this battle wasn't the drakes, it was Timothy.
His blade carved through them with chilling efficiency, slicing through flesh and bone with minimal resistance.
He kept his movements sharp and controlled, wasting no energy while maximizing damage.
Heads flew.
Bodies collapsed.
The drakes tried to coordinate, attacking in waves, but Timothy moved like a machine, his machete an extension of his will.
