Verso let out a violent, wet cough as he wiped a thick streak of viscous green blood from his forehead.
He looked down at his hands which was now covered in a disgusting lime colored slime and felt his stomach do a roll. The metallic, rotting smell of the centipedes' insides was nearly enough to break through his mental barriers.
"Fuck man... no matter how much I try, I always end up looking like a mess."
He held himself back from puking, taking deep, steady breaths of the humid swamp air. Luckily, his Scale Armor had held up perfectly because of which not a single stinger or drop of venom had reached his skin.
He looked over at Moon, and his eye twitched in pure irritation.
"And how the fuck are you so clean?"
Moon was standing a few feet away, leaning casually on his massive iron greatsword.
Despite the whirlwind of violence he had just unleashed — chopping through dozens of massive insects — there was not a single splatter of green on his black leather gear.
