The Demon Cataclysms—those crimson horrors born from slaughter—faced none of the same limitations that troubled the other races.
Their pace hadn't slowed even a heartbeat; if anything, their frenzy seemed to grow sharper, more ravenous, with every passing minute.
Unlike most warriors who relied on the delicate flow of natural energy, the demons drew their might from a much darker source—
the power of blood.
Every motion they made, every roar, every swing of their colossal weapons throbbed with the rhythm of living veins.
Perhaps this reliance on blood would have been a terrible disadvantage had they fought unarmed or exposed—
but they did not.
Those black-and-crimson suits of armor they wore, pulsing with glowing veins, were not mere protection;
they were lined with coiling blood-tubes that snaked across every joint and plate.
Each of those tubes hade space path runes to enlargen them from within like space rings.
