He walked towards the snake and instead of attacking, it stared at him, as if assessing his threat level with the stick. He was wobbling, finally showing signs of being tired but somehow, the air around him was different that even the snake slithered backwards.
He swung the short in short intervals with his right hand, his veins flickering with each swing. His looked like they were staring off somewhere else, as if not acknowledge the snake anymore.
'hahh, how long has it been since i swung a sword? I wonder if those brats are doing ok.' His swing stopped mid way and the stick began to grow, mana spread across its surface, veins of purple light creeping like roots of a tree, as if the mana was rewriting the object's very essence.
The air grew heavier and even the snake seemed to sense that something was wrong here, a feeling telling it to run.
