Blood.
So much blood.
It soaked the ground beneath her, staining the floor in thick, dark pools. Ereskia's back was torn open, a brutal, ragged wound stretching from the base of her neck all the way down to her lower spine in five long, savage gashes carved by Lucian's clawed gauntlet. Flesh shredded. Skin ripped apart. Muscles exposed to the open air.
Black lightning still crackled faintly from the wounds, its lingering energy burning her from the inside out. Smoke curled up from her scorched skin, filling the air with the acrid stench of charred flesh.
"SISTER!!!"
Larpard's voice tore through the chamber, raw and broken. Horror twisted his features as he watched the nightmare unfold before him.
But there was nothing he could do.
His body refused to move, crumpled where he'd fallen. His two mana rings were all shattered, and he himself was barely holding his life together. He couldn't even crawl. Couldn't scream loud enough to change anything.
He was powerless.
Helpless.
