Ferocious, thunderous screams echoed relentlessly behind him, from a distance of more than twenty meters. Ahead, the jaws of the three beasts were gradually widening, as if on the verge of exploding, while thick vapor rose from deep within them, like fire raging in their guts. The scene radiated nothing but pure terror.

Those rearward screams—loud and incessant—weren't merely sounds… they were a clear provocation, a brutal signal pushing the front-line beasts into a savage assault.

The sound, with its intensity and persistence, was akin to the buzz of insects on a scorching summer day—but far more irritating, and far more capable of shattering focus. Even the Echo Shadow — with his trained mind and exceptional composure amidst chaos — wasn't immune. His focus flickered for a moment, though his stance didn't waver in the slightest. He remained standing tall, like an unyielding statue, his sharp eyes tracking the scene as a falcon watches its prey from above.

Then, in a flash, the three beasts lunged in a coordinated strike: the one in the center leapt high, aiming its blade-like claws at his head, while the other two surged in from his flanks like a pincer, their eyes scanning for any attempt to escape. The tactic was clear — a direct assault meant to force him backward, opening a gap for the side attackers.

But he didn't move.

Instead, he murmured mockingly, "Amateurs' strategy." A cold, merciless smile spread across his lips.

In a sudden motion, he stepped forward instead of retreating, drawing his silver sword, which flashed like a bolt of lightning. He parried the central beast's claws with a solid strike. Though his frame appeared smaller, his muscles no match for the beast's bulk, the attack came to a dead stop — as if it had collided with a wall of steel. The beast's eyes widened in shock — it had felt the counterblow like a mountain crashing down on it.

Then, Echo Shadow leaned his body to the right and shoved the beast with force. At that moment, the creature veered toward its own center of gravity and lost all balance mid-air—almost as if gravity itself had abandoned it. It hit the ground and rolled like a discarded ball.

"Hohohoho!"

The roars from behind erupted again, cheering on the fallen beast. It halted its tumble and scrambled upright, struggling to regain its footing. But the moment it did, it found itself face-to-face with a pair of piercing, emotionless eyes. A silver flash danced within the beast's pupils—then its body collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Echo Shadow turned toward the remaining two. Beneath his foot, the severed head of the first beast rolled away like an abandoned orb. His gaze was sharp, unwavering.

In the span of only a few breaths, Echo Shadow had brought one of the monsters to its end. He stared at the other two with chilling calm. Though mindless, the beasts possessed a primitive instinct—one keen enough to sense danger. Seeing one of their own decapitated so effortlessly caused them to hesitate.

For Echo Shadow, that moment of hesitation was all he needed. In battle, every second is a priceless treasure. A single heartbeat of doubt could mean death. It was a truth he knew all too well—one the beasts had never understood.

His steps surged forward—swift, decisive, like a raging wind no force could stop. Before the beasts could react, he kicked the severed head with terrifying strength toward one of them. The creature, startled by the sight of its comrade's head hurtling toward it, raised its arms in panic to shield itself. Blood burst violently from the impact, splattering into its eyes and painting the world before it a deep, suffocating red. The beast began to claw at its eyes in panic, its movements thrown into disarray.

"Five seconds…" Echo Shadow whispered to himself. He knew exactly how long the creature would need to wipe the blood from its eyes and return to the fight. Five seconds—that's all he had to eliminate the second beast before the tide could turn.

Like a lightning strike, he dashed toward the other one. The beast let out a vicious roar and charged at him blindly, driven by raw instinct. They clashed with brutal force—fang against blade, claw against will. The beast's grounded stance gave it power, unlike the earlier foe whose mid-air assault had sealed its fate. But even so, Echo Shadow gradually seized control of the fight, pushing the beast into a defensive stance.

"Two seconds left!" he shouted, striking hard. The beast blocked with relentless strength. Echo Shadow retreated a few paces, eyes narrowing like a hawk circling its prey. In one fluid motion, he drew a small black dagger from his pocket and hurled it with precision at the creature's reproductive organ.

The monster screamed—a sound twisted by agony—as it dropped its guard and clawed desperately at the embedded blade. But the pain overwhelmed it. Its massive body writhed, then collapsed to the earth in chilling silence. At that very instant, Echo Shadow's silver sword plunged into its heart—delivering the final, fatal blow.