Blood Desert, Salaark's palace dungeon.
The constant cycles of damage and regeneration had thinned the Ra'ntar-Puppet beyond saving. Many of its tendrils were completely withered and Jirni could see with Life Vision that there was no vitality left in them.
The black aura of death surrounding them was the first sign of the rot taking hold of the Puppet.
'If I force this thing to regenerate its tendrils, it would exhaust its life force faster than creating new ones.' Jirni sighed, every sign she and Skywarp spotted confirming the sprout's terminal prognosis. 'There's nothing I can do to stall the game further.'
She had no idea whether it was due to Ra'ntar's determination or the World Tree's order that the Puppet had stubbornly refused to drink a single drop of the tonics. Either way, the enemy had earned her respect.
