The blade was already inside Zareth. Amon didn't hesitate.
He twisted his sword hard. Muscles screaming, bones protesting, as he dragged the blade sideways through Zareth's stomach. The steel carved a brutal horizontal arc. Blood exploded outward.
"AAARGGGHHH!"
Zareth's scream tore through the darkness, raw and animal. His body convulsed as the wind mana around him shattered, dispersing into nothing but weak gusts that died instantly in the thick shadows.
His knees buckled. He fell forward.
Amon ripped his sword free, staggering back a step as blood poured from the wound like a ruptured dam. Zareth tried to breathe. Tried to speak. Only a choking sound escaped his throat.
Amon didn't give him time. His left hand tightened. The hatchet, still coated in writhing shadow, came back to his hand.
CRACK.
It tore through Zareth's forehead. Bone crushed. Skull split. Shadow flooded inside.
Zareth screamed one last time. Short, broken, terrified before the sound cut off completely.
