"More fuckin' corpses, huh?" Guts said, as one of Them shuffled near. Guts sucker-punched it with his iron arm, knocking it to the ground. The undead twitched on the ground; its teeth had fallen loose and its eyes had popped partway out. Guts brought down an iron boot, splitting its skull like a melon. He looked up, and cracked his neck as more creatures spilled into the halls.
Guts' muscles tightened as the Dragonslayer swung in a wide arc, cleaving through several torsos. The ghouls fell to the ground, trailing entrails behind. Guts swung a second time, and a second set of heads flew.

The blade changed directions with surprising speed, flying the opposite way with an ominous hum, sideways, then down, then across, releasing a rapid flurry of slashes that left only a hall full of gore and dismembered bodies.

Placing the oversized hunk of iron over his shoulder, Guts descended to the next floor, blood dripping off of his cloak.