The tendrils that made up the [Darkness Monarch]'s enormous body began to glow faintly as they dragged the spirits and monsters underground, one after another.
The ground trembled under the weight of his feeding.
Dark energy pulsed beneath the surface like a heartbeat.
'He said he's even stronger now,' Sam thought, narrowing his eyes, 'That means… he's feeding on them through those tendrils.'
It was ironic. Sam did the exact same thing.
His own primordial sword released tendrils to absorb the cores of the fallen, while the Monarch used his to pull victims into the abyss to devour their essence.
Two predators, both feeding on everything around them.
The only difference was that one did it with discipline—while the other did it out of pure hunger.
And now, the battlefield was silent.
The endless roars, the chaos of monsters clashing and dying, it had all stopped.
