With each slash, the white fog churned more violently, as if angered by his resistance. Gradually, wounds began to appear all over Grey's body. Shallow cuts layered over deeper gashes, some already crusted with dried blood while others continued to bleed freely. He had changed his daggers many times throughout the battle, some were lost in the fog after being knocked from his hands, while others shattered outright under repeated strain.
As the fight dragged on, Grey noticed something unsettling.
The creatures formed from the fog were growing stronger.
If it had taken ten slashes to kill one at the beginning, now it took twelve.
The difference seemed minor on the surface, but in the chaos of battle, those extra slashes were often the line between survival and death. Each additional movement slowed him, drained his stamina, and left openings that the fog creatures were all too eager to exploit.
