The force flung the hulking Kruckle backward, scraping his heels across stone as he roared through the pain. His shoulder sizzled where the arrow had pierced. Void-tainted smoke poured from the wound, but instead of collapsing, Brakka slammed a fist into the ground and stood tall.
His body trembled—not from weakness, but from something else.
Power.
Raw, surging, violent power.
Sylen didn't slow.
He moved like a phantom, launching arrows one after the other, each laced with death energy, each more potent than the last.
THOOM!
THOOM!
THOOM!
The arrows hissed as they flew, leaving trails of black wisps in their wake.
BOOM!
One struck Brakka's thigh, splintering bone.
BOOM!
Another hit his side, punching through a rib.
BOOM!
The third slammed into his abdomen and dug in, screaming with necrotic energy as it tore into his core.
But despite the damage, Brakka didn't fall.
Instead, he grew.
Literally.
His muscles bulged.
His arms thickened.
