It had only been fifteen minutes since the clash began, but to the students caught in the chaos, it felt like they'd been fighting for days. Sweat, blood, and adrenaline blurred together as they held their ground. So far, no casualties—a small miracle amidst the madness.
On the southern flank, Max was nearly unrecognizable, drenched in demon gore from head to toe. His dual blades carved through feral-class beasts with relentless precision.
"Feels like they just keep respawning," Max muttered, kicking aside a fallen demon. "But nah, they're just endless. Good thing my blades don't get tired."
With a clean swing, he lopped the head off a snarling demon bear, grinning. "That's twenty-five down, and—"
A sudden gust of wind cut him off, sweeping past like a phantom.
Instinctively, he pivoted, blades raised—and froze.
There, prowling through the carnage, was a massive black jaguar, its size rivaling a full-grown Hanoverian horse.
"Char... Charlotte?" Max breathed, wide-eyed.
