Sector Delta-Nine of the Kentari Ringworld was a sprawling, metallic nightmare.
The dark green, fleshy webbing of the Xenophage completely coated the towering skyscrapers and the cracked durasteel highways. The air was thick with the sickeningly sweet smell of biological rot and the deafening, continuous clicking of millions of insectoid legs.
Lucifer strode down the center of a wide, ruined avenue.
The Warlord didn't bother trying to sneak. He didn't use stealth magic. He walked with heavy, deliberate steps, the ruby-red Blade of Ruin resting casually on his shoulder. His dark leather armor absorbed the dim, red light of the dying sun above.
The 30% stat suppression from the Precursor Military Trial was a noticeable drag on his movements. It felt like walking through waist-deep water. His Void Arcanist mana regenerated slower. His physical strikes required more effort.
But it didn't matter. The math was still overwhelmingly in his favor.
