With a surge of soul force, Asher's grip tightened around the bone-blade, his fingers igniting with astral fire. Cracks spiderwebbed across the weapon before it exploded in a cascade of jagged shards. The force of his counterattack sent the monstrous figure of Kairon flying, crashing into a radiant pillar of light that split the chamber's gloom like a divine spear.
The illusion screamed—not in pain, but in sheer rage. The sound reverberated through the Rift-warped space, its echo tainted with a thousand whispers of torment and memory. It wasn't just Kairon's face anymore. His form had fully twisted—four arms now, elongated and reinforced by jagged, rune-etched bone. Wings of shadow extended from his back, not for flight, but as extensions of hatred, pulsing with cursed energy.
He burst forward again.
