Ten Thousand Beasts!
The realization hit him like a sledgehammer. "They all came back." The beasts he killed today and yesterday had all returned, and if this continued, if he somehow managed to survive tonight, there would be more of them tomorrow. And many more the night after that. The sheer thought of it was terrifying, a never-ending cycle of death and resurrection that would only end when he did.
If Kent used body spells, he can finish these beasts with mere snaps. But he decided to fight with bare hands to relieve from relentless thoughts.
For a brief moment, Kent felt something close to despair, the weight of his predicament crashing down on him. But it was quickly replaced by something else—anger, raw and seething, bubbling up from the depths of his soul.
He had no choice but to fight. He had no choice but to kill. If he was going to die, he would go down swinging, taking as many of these cursed beasts with him as he could.