'It is time,'
I thought, looking at the killing read, where thousands of Grimms and natives are dying by the minute.
I have been moving slowly, sometimes stopping for minutes before moving again, but now the time had come. I need to move fast, as fast as I could.
It will be dangerous. There are hundreds of Grimms who are powerful enough that their single attack would put me out of commission. If that happens, then death will be the only option for me.
I took a deep breath and harnessed all my power and moved.
Around me, several clones of different races materialized, all with different types of aura emitting from them. While I became one with the cursed mist, which has grown even more powerful, with death.
It is also very dense and getting denser with every step toward the exit.
