Zafron lay on the polished floor, the cold steel of Gustavo's blade pressing against his throat. The weight of Mordred's foot on his back kept him pinned. His mind raced, struggling against the haze of pain and the urgent need to escape.
Gustavo's taunting voice pierced through his haze. "Any last words, Zafron?" The blade nicked his skin, drawing a thin line of blood.
Zafron's response was a fierce growl. "Screw you!" His eyes blazed with a fierce red light. The anger within him ignited, and his muscles tensed with newfound energy.
[Heart rate increased. Qi output escalating. Host at risk of triggering emergency response.]
As Zafron's rage fueled his resolve, he focused on the red slime in his hand, the main reason behind his enhanced power. It pulsed with an almost sentient life, reacting to his emotional surge. With a guttural roar, Zafron used the slime to reinforce his strength.