Jacques Ursa Paste

“Are you ready for this, son?” My dad was smiling fiercely as he lifted his hammer high.

“Of course,” I answered, tracing Crocea Mors’ blade as I crouched. A massive Ursa leapt at us and my father reduced it to paste. Before his hammer even hit the ground, though, I was off. Surrounded by dark shapes, I swung my sword with all my might, cleaving off heads and limbs without hesitation. I didn’t stop except to restore my strength, didn’t hesitate except to make sure I wasn’t aiming at an ally—I kept moving forward.