"Meat rots, Bjron," I said. "And you're already starting to stink."
My voice came out steadier than I expected. Maybe that was all I had left—words sharpened into weapons, flung like knives at a creature that'd long since abandoned humanity.
Bjron's grin twitched.
Something in my words had struck a nerve, even through the haze of bloodlust and madness.
Good.
His laughter faltered.
"You think—" he began, but he didn't get to finish.
Because in that moment, I moved.
Not with Ghoststep—I didn't have the mana for that.
Just with everything I had left.
I lunged forward, dragging my leaden legs across the stone floor, arm outstretched.
The Blood Needle snapped into form, trembling, barely holding shape. It felt like it could break apart at any second.
Bjron moved too. With a snarl, he threw his good arm up in defense.
But I wasn't aiming for his heart anymore.
I went lower.
SHHLLICKK—!!
The needle punched into his thigh—deep. Right into the artery.
