The narrow, dimly lit alley was a chaos of motion, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and guttural cries. Erik's senses were on high alert as he moved with a dancer's grace, his body a blur of motion as he swung his Flyssa in deadly arcs.
He used the blade to conserve his mana as much as possible to fight against these guys.
He longed to prove his strength and set himself apart from the weaker ones. His goal was to leave them in complete despair, unable to track his every move with their eyes.
Besides, he had some unresolved matters with the Crystal Cross gang. Erik hadn't forgotten the street chases in New Alexandria. He was once frail, but now he had increased his strength enough to fight them.
Erik felt an immediate sense of control, his body and weapon moving as one. He dashed towards one thug, his movements so swift that the man had no time to react. Erik's blade found his throat, and a spray of blood marked the end of his life.