Charon stumbled forward as he grabbed at his chest, a sudden burst of energy hitting his core.
It ran hot, like lava flowing through his veins, burning away parts of himself he was never even aware of. It was so painful he forgot all about the battle, including the loss of his first relic.
His skeletons, now lacking any orders, instinctively rushed to his side, the Defenders protecting him with their interlocked tower shields while the others slashed their swords aggressively.
Liam, not noticing the sudden lifelessness of the upgraded machine, rammed his axe head into its core, the glass still refusing to yield, but the force was strong enough to send the creation cascading back into the mud, sinking a solid foot on contact.
Emerius, far more attentive, had spun to face the cocoon forming around Charon. The shadows gripping his body faded, revealing pink flesh beneath.
The battlefield had gone quiet, but not in any way that promised safety.
