No pressure.
The sarcasm did little to steady the tremor in my chest, as I wondered how the hell was I supposed to deal with this?
Every flame-based attack I threw would get absorbed into that inky mass like fuel for its corruption. Same went for my standard offensive skills; the death aura would just devour them and grow stronger.
That left me with only one real option—my class skills.
They were powerful enough to distort the fabric of space and reality, and more importantly, they weren't made of life or mana that the thing could feed on.
Yeah. That meant I had to rely on pure dimensional force.
Below me, the corrupted form of Jael twisted as it fell, its arms stretching unnaturally as black tendrils flailed in every direction. The moment it touched the ground, the spread would start again. The thought alone tightened my throat.
Not happening.
SWOOSH!
I used [Swap] and reality inverted in a single breath.
