What followed wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter. Harry watched his army thin out faster than it ever had under Malice's blade, and the truly terrifying part was the change creeping over Jax with every kill. He was slipping into something wild. Bloodthirsty. Unhinged.
His face hung painted red, his clothes soaked clean through, and the open, hungry way he savored the carnage sent a cold finger straight down Harry's spine.
And it wasn't only Jax thirsting for blood. His blade thirsted too. With every wet splash it drank the gore down and glowed a deeper, darker red for it.
This was the first time Jax had ever drawn on the full strength of the Carnage Blade, and the thing was dragging him further down into the madness with each and every strike.
'Is this what level 100 looks like?' Harry thought, rattled. 'But how in the hells did he climb that high, that fast? Something's wrong with him. Everything about him is wrong. I should call them in, or this lunatic is going to kill me.'
