It met the Grak-beast mid-leap.
There was no clang of steel on bone, no scream of agony. There was only a flash of obsidian light, and then the Grak-beast simply ceased to be. Not a body, not a drop of blood. It dissolved into a cloud of shimmering, black ash, which immediately began to swirl towards Xiaochen, pulled by the hungry vortex in his chest.
He felt the sudden rush – a sweet, sickly-warm sensation that flooded his body. It was like drinking liquid night, pure energy, raw and untamed. It filled the empty spaces, not gently, but with a forceful expansion that made his muscles twitch and hum. He felt stronger, faster, sharper. And the hunger… the hunger intensified.
"What was that?" Xiaochen breathed, staring at the dissipating cloud of ash. His palms, where the blade had cut him
