Just like with the first abomination I slew, the rogue abomination I was up against now found itself on the back foot. The power of the blade, simmering with blue flames, cut deep and permanently on its rotten flesh.
It did not expect to be hurt, and yet it was. The abomination was a fool to underestimate me. Given that it had shown that it was able to split itself apart, I found it odd that it still acted the way it did.
I killed the dreadwolf it had corrupted and made a puppet. It should have already known that I was more than capable of hurting it.
But I guess that since the dreadwolf ultimately died because of the fire I cast and not my sword, it failed to understand that my greatest weapon was the blade that stood firmly on the hilt of my sword.
