At that moment, as goblin blood coated Morne's armor and goblin flesh was skewered beneath his spear, he started to feel…
Hungry.
It had been over two weeks since he had last fed his plant-heart blood, but in that time, he had also been in many battles where he had lost quite a lot of blood. Some of that was Scarlet Sacrifice, but most of it was the handiwork of the Runners.
This was something he had noticed when he used Dark Pulse earlier, but he had shelved the problem temporarily to focus on the much bigger concern of being rotted from the inside out.
But now…
Morne let go of his spear, which was currently embedded in a goblin's armored chest, and grasped outward without even looking.
His fingers clenched around the mouth of a goblin, thorns sprouting through his palm and locking the two together as he lifted the poor creature up as easily as he would a newborn baby.
