He was a son. My son. A golem made from adamantite, bearing armor and wielding weapons that were the same as he. His weapon and armor were but mere extensions of himself.
Frank struck the tail end of his spear into the ground, using only but one arm to hold it. He then clenched his free hand into a fist before pointing a firm finger at the abomination.
The abomination, battered and weakened from the pummeling I gave it, growled a terrible gutteral sound at the gesture. The creature of corruption was not amused. It was raging and desperate.
The abomination had failed. The magical artifact it had tried to corrupt and control had proven itself a tough egg to crack. Despite leaving most of its mass wrapped around the mirror to continue attacking its defenses, it didn't work.
It was never going to work for as long as I had the power to prevent it.
