If it felt rage and blood lust, what other feelings could it experience?
A lightbulb lit atop Mark's head. He threw up his right hand and glared at the minotaur with intent. The minotaur's brows went up, a little put aback by Mark's sudden confident countenance.
The large swords of light still hovered atop the protection bubble, the phantom cat gritting its little teeth as it strained itself against their onslaught.
Mark took a deep breath, focusing on the space right above the minotaur's head, then his lips moved, uttering the words.
"Withdraw 5 Rexadurus flesh." There was a certain gravitas to his voice, like he had rehearsed the line over and over again.
Then a light appeared above the minotaur.
"Huh?!" Both the minotaur and the spirit guardian sounded, momentarily confused about what was to come.
Splat! Splat!
