I didn't waste time.
My blade was still humming from the last strike,still trembling with leftover death mana. I forced it back under control and poured in more.
Deeper.
Thicker.
The pure black coat wrapped around the glass edge… then slowly shifted.
Death peeled away like smoke.
And corruption took its place.
It oozed up from the hilt like tar being dragged from some bottomless pit. The blade didn't glow it dripped. Thick, viscous droplets slid down the edge and hit the stone with sharp little sizzles.
Each drop evaporated the ground into dust before turning into nothing itself, leaving behind tiny circular scars like the earth had been bitten by a very rude acid.
It looked incredibly cool.
It also smelled like someone was cooking rotten soup inside a volcano.
I stepped toward the Boss Bastard, who was still collapsed on its side, legs refusing to cooperate thanks to the sixth stance screaming "No legs for you!" inside its skull.
The wolf saw me coming.
