The moment the Mandates and Keepers arrived, a terrifying bloodlust descended upon the battlefield to where Izroth, Hakros, and Sychia gathered.
When Hakros felt this killing intent, the blood of the ancient behemoth that ran through his veins boiled with excitement.
"This is more like it...!" Hakros growled.
Being face to face with so many powerful opponents at once, how could he contain his enthusiasm? Hakros did not know what Izroth did to incur the hatred of this crowd so fast, but he wanted to learn such a useful method!
"Remember what I said. Do not lose sight of the objective." Izroth reminded after clearly feeling a shift in the aura around Hakros.
"Don't worry. After all, you're giving me a real good opportunity here to pay some old debts." Hakros stated with a fierce look in his eyes.
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
Suddenly, three figures appeared amidst Izroth and his group. One was the Celestial of Ripples, Kyamakri.