The spear's tip punched through flesh and bone with each thrust, the Blessing of Piercing enchantment ensuring that nothing could stop its momentum. He pulled it free, spun, drove it through another throat, ripped it out, brought it down through a skull.
Slick and viscous black blood sprayed across the cobblestones.
The brutal efficiency of the combat doctrine of the Crimson Crucible really shone through, as with swing he made, he was able to gut and kill at least three of the Thralls.
But for every Thrall he killed, it seemed like two more took its place. They climbed over the corpses of their fellows without hesitation, their movements growing more frenzied and desperate.
He could feel his Ein Sof dropping dangerously low. Shadow Shift was becoming harder to maintain, the shadows slipping through his grasp like water.
He needed more power
Nero's eyes turned a terrifying glint of golden as he let out a vicious snarl.
He could see it quite clearly.
