BOOOOM!
BOOOOM!
BOOOOM!
The pagoda trembled with each clash. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling, floorboards splintering beneath the sheer force of the battle.
Hisame stood frozen, heart hammering in her chest as she watched Asher fight like a war god, an unstoppable storm made flesh.
He already defeated two generals, and now he was already facing another—Shuten in his berserk form.
The Oni's body swelled and throbbed, muscles straining against his darkening crimson skin.
His single horn—already imposing—elongated further, cracks of molten red running along its length as if it had been pulled straight from a blacksmith's forge.
Heat rolled off him in suffocating waves, the very air bending and distorting around him.
HISSSSSSSSSSS!
Every breath he exhaled released a hiss of steam, the sound like a furnace roaring to life.
Then he moved.
