The sharp echo of her whispered incantation reverberated through the tunnel, mingling with the unearthly screeches of the blood demons.
Her voice, though shaky, carried the power of desperation and resolve.
The blade in her hand pulsed with energy, drinking in her blood like a starved predator. Its dull surface began to glow faintly, casting eerie crimson light onto the walls slick with gore and decay.
The second wave of blood demons were coming, she groaned innately when will this nightmare end!
The demons halted momentarily, their chorus of snarls quieting to an eerie stillness.
They recognized the energy radiating from her weapon, an ancient force that threatened their existence.
Deyanira felt a flicker of hope, though it was quickly smothered by the overwhelming reality of her situation.
Thousands of blood demons surrounded her, and she was one injured human. Still, she held her ground.
