A fraction of a minute after the real Jake hurled himself, body and soul, into the Lumyst River, every one of his clones scattered across the continent shuddered.
Their faces twisted in agony for a fleeting instant, as though some overwhelming foreign force were trying to burn their fragile existence out of reality.
Only Asfrid, closely watching their young leader, noticed the pained grimace crossing the face of the Jake fighting beside them like a demon.
Had those filthy monsters not been so grotesque, drenched in the blood and entrails of the countless comrades they had butchered, one might have mistaken the lone human for the true villain, mercilessly exterminating innocent creatures.
Several nearby spawn seized the opening and tried to swallow him whole.
A deafening backhand answered them. Or rather, whatever remained of them after they were launched straight into the stratosphere.
