I couldn't think of a single thought, couldn't feel my surroundings. Everything I could use to resist was frozen, and only one thing remained constant.
Emotions. All I could feel were happiness and pride. I could barely see anything.
Everything was dyed in a distorted red. I clashed with Darrow and Bram endlessly, with no pause, feeling a strength beyond comprehension.
The reason everything was red was because my face was covered in blood—mine and that of my opponents. The same crimson flames flickered around my right hand that held Jor, and I moved with an unfamiliar speed and power.
I felt as if I were in beast form. My white horns had grown larger than usual, entering my field of vision, and my nails had elongated into medium-sized claws, though they hadn't reached the hardness of metal.
Everything around me seemed small... everything around me seemed insignificant... I was only fighting the weak, the weak and nothing else.
