He was grinning, his heart pounding with exhilaration.
Dodge. Counter. Kill.
Every move felt effortless, his instincts sharper than ever. The longer he fought, the more he could feel it creeping in—that twisted thrill of battle.
"This isn't normal," Asher thought, sidestepping another monstrous knight's blade. His blood tendrils lashed out, coiling around the knight's throat before ripping its head clean off.
He exhaled slowly, feeling his blood boil.
It was his Sanguine Supreme ability.
Or rather, something buried within it.
The more he fought, the more it fed off the battle. The power was reacting, heightening his senses, sharpening his reflexes—urging him forward.
"Tch. This damn ability… it wants more."
A beast lunged at him from the shadows—six arms, each wielding a different cursed weapon. It was fast, unnaturally so, its movements erratic and unpredictable.
But Asher was faster.
