The twisted, pitch black amalgam of flesh and sinew grinned a sinister smile, blinking its milky white eyes at Devotion. Ysmir quickly ran up beside Devotion, baring its fangs.
"Any rhymes for this one, fucker?" Devotion panted out, picking up the Frostbrand sword from the ground. He was still out of breath from his encounter with the leader's clone, and now he had to fight whatever this unholy creation was.
Upon hearing silence, Devotion continued, hoping to stall the creature before it attacked. "At least whoever designed this shit had enough brains for one decent trial. I'll be honest, I think I'd rather fight ten of these things than go through that other hell."
"That... can... be... arranged..." The amalgamation spoke, its voice sinister and full of breath.
