Rage did not cool them. It fermented.
Scylencer felt it bubbling under his skin, a crawling heat that made his bones itch and his thoughts blur, the kind of anger that demanded movement simply to exist, and so he moved, hands tearing through the air as infestation mana poured out of him again, not careful anymore, not measured, just violent and loud and desperate to make something break.
Poisotate mirrored him without thinking, their bodies falling into a familiar rhythm born from countless hunts, attacks layered over attacks, magic stacking upon magic until the space between them and Cain felt swollen and strained, like a skin stretched too thin.
"Die," Poisotate screamed as he hurled another spell, his voice cracking as he forced more power through a core that was already burning. "Rot Swarm Cataclysm!"
A tide of shrieking infestation mana rushed forward, shapes flickering inside it like mandibles and wings, tearing at the air as it slammed into Cain's chest.
