Rush of the Kill

With little more reprieve, two more gargoyles advanced on me, having fully identified me as a threat. Stony claws swiped at me only to glance off of my blade. Deflecting one attack to the right, I slashed to the left, my blade burying itself halfway deep into the beast's torso. I pulled violently, leaving only crumbling cobbles behind. The second gargoyle raised its claw in preparation for a power attack, I spun and slashed hard at its arm just as it meant to bring it down on me. Taking a step forward, I gripped its stub and pulled myself closer, impaling it through the gut. They were dispatched.

Turning, I noticed Vader, his ruthlessness seemingly bolstered as he destroyed a gargoyle with nothing more than his bare hands. Good, I thought, They challenged us, they ain't leaving alive.

A ring sounded as my Issen skill charged back up. Anticipation filled me as three of the fuckers made the mistake of targeting me. I charged forward, leaping over them all, land and spinning, before slashing at their backs with my full fury.

Three demonic shouts of anguish, a perfectly synced symphony of death. The blade had completely bisected the three of them, and good lord was it satisfying! I was beginning to understand the glee Vader seemed to have while pounding his fists into his enemies. Even as a gargoyle sent him flying, black armor scraping against the ground, and even as he spits insults at the beast, there was a primal sort of joy and excitement in his voice. Vader must have always been like this, I thought, but I couldn't judge; now I was no different. There was nowhere I'd rather be right now, than here with my blade buried deep into my next opponent. I thought not about how much I had changed, how violent I had become, how bloodthirsty I now was. I only thought of the next kill.

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