While Klein was catching his breath, his lungs burning from the effort, Mammon sketched a smile that stretched her lips to a physically impossible angle for a human. She extended her right hand toward the ground. Instantly, the blood stagnating around her ankles began to swirl frantically, rising in a twisted column toward her palm.
The organic liquid densified, solidifying to take the form of a long serrated sword, whose blade emitted a dark and corrosive vapor.
Without a word, she swung her weapon. The centrifugal force generated by the movement was so colossal that it destroyed the marble slabs in its path, creating a deep furrow in the tower's structure until the shockwave came crashing against the opposite enclosure wall.
After that, Mammon took a guard position, her body lowering with flexibility, before throwing herself at Klein.
