Reinhard sighed to himself.
His hand lifted from the crimson-black tide's surface, fingers trailing corruption that didn't burn. Droplets fell back into the larger mass, creating ripples that spread outward in perfect circles.
Mimir materialized on his shoulder. The crow's claws dug gently into uniform fabric, golden horns, and his black feathers ruffled slightly as he settled into position.
"Are you ready?" The crow's voice carried across the small space between them.
Reinhard closed his eyes. His consciousness turned inward, examining new capabilities granted through connection with Angra Mainyu. He felt the skills flowing through him like additional limbs present, accessible, waiting for direction.
Scourging Plume.
The ability to release arcs of crimson-black flame that cut off the curses, sins, or corruption from the target or amplified them if he desired.
Sorrow Conversion.
