Breya’s Last Stand, Fatty’s Secret Power?

A nauseating metallic stench lingered in the air as the bloody battle entered its climax, the severed limbs from various creatures littering the open field, painting the ground with their blood.

"Quickly charge forward; we must move at one speed!' A goblin roared as it charged towards the distance with high speed, a few other goblins and crocomen bundled together as they followed behind him with their shields and weapons held in their arms.

The eyes of these troops were different, even their equipment and weapons were of a higher standard as they each carried an aura of experience. As this squad swiftly moved through the bloody scene, countless thin threads would soar towards them from a distance along with a flurry of arrows.

Upon seeing this, the leading goblin's eyes flashed as he spoke, "Don't cut the threads, use your weapons to push them away! As for those arrows, keep your shields above your head and cover your vitals!"