Sheathing his blade, Cain stared at the slowly smoldering corpse.
Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he turned around.
The fight was swiftly reaching its conclusion. With no one to command them, the horde of zombies was already breaking down into aess of chaos. Of course, their common enemy still remained, but they no longer possessed the same level of organization they had under the command of the Devil.
Cain sighed, 'Something is off.'
For some reason, the fight had felt too easy. And too quick.
Was it that he had gotten too strong? Or were there far more sinister forces at play here?
Whatever it was, he couldn't help but feel distasteful about it.
Wiping the tar-like blood off his face with a rag, Hunter approached with a dark expression,
"The rest have been killed. All that's left is the clean up."
Cain nodded. Without saying anything else, he looked into his inventory.