The cavern pulsed with a sinister energy, thick waves of dark essence radiating from the exploding bodies. The ground trembled as if recoiling from the sheer malevolence being released.
Northern watched intently, his splintered gaze narrowing as he sensed something familiar—something ominous.
'Here we go again.'
From the ruptured remains of the creatures, pools of black ichor began to gather and converge at the center of the cavern.
The ichor writhed and twisted, forming grotesque shapes that flickered between solid and fluid, as if caught between two states of existence.
Northern's grip tightened on the Illusion Sword, his eyes slowly examining the figures as they solidified their forms and turned to focus on him.
Brzzt
The atmosphere around Northern suddenly became charged, the gentle drifting of the chilly air around him becoming slower than usual.
'No perfect time to use this than now...'
