That Face

[300 GTs bonus]

Aether moved within Zurog again, a last-ditch effort. But it was clear that he had wasted too much of it earlier, and while Sylas was seemingly a funnel for Aether in the surroundings, Zurog had no such ability. That and…

It was much too late.

Sylas' fist moved like the wind, the darkness not seeming to bother him as much any longer as he drove a fist right through the gnoll elite's head. At the same time, his dagger drove into the back of his skull.

The two-pronged attack skewered the gnoll. The last of his strength sputtered as he fell to his knees, his eyes filled with disbelief up until the moment they finally dimmed.

Sylas stood there, huffing deep breaths.

This was it. The flow of battle.

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[10/10 Fluid Attack Transitions]

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Sylas tilted his head up to the skies, breathing heavily. Blood trickled down his body from various wounds, but oddly enough his Scorned Wraps always seemed to remain dry.