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With the timely arrival of reinforcements from the Burning Corps, Garbage charged into the battlefield with his claws raised, instantly turning the entire fight into a one-sided slaughter.
Everyone present finally witnessed how terrifyingly dominant the actual strongest member of the Burning Corps could be in a favorable matchup.
Engaging him head-on came with the risk of being torn to pieces.
When it came to ambushes and pursuit, he was simply too good at it, one light swipe of his claws, and a cultist standing in his way would be sliced clean in two.
Bathed in blood, his primal instincts ignited, Garbage’s amber eyes gleamed with a bloodthirsty light.
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hell yeah!"
Still not satisfied, he raised his head and let out an excited howl, the deafening roar rippling through the smoky air like shockwaves.
"Awoo!"
Nearby cultists grimaced in pain, instinctively covering their ears.
Perhaps the drugs were wearing off, pain and fear had...
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