When you started something, you had to finish it.
Damian took two massive trunks in each hand, the wood sinking into his grip as if eager to serve his purpose. Mana flooded into his legs, filling muscles and bones and blood with power that screamed for release, and he leapt from the mountain with a force that cracked the stone beneath his feet.
He took to the air in an extremely high jump that defied everything normal cultivation should have allowed, his body arcing upward and outward with the trajectory of a thrown spear, the wind screaming past his face as the ground fell away beneath him.
He looked like a Primal Beast.
He looked like something that shouldn't exist, a creature of legend made flesh and given terrible purpose!
His single leap took him curving over the tribe far below, his figure that had arced across the sky causing utter astonishment from the eyes of the Tribesmen who had been working on their defensive walls moments before.
They stopped.
They stared.
