Nero let out a shrill roar that cut through the serenity of the night.
His rotting body bulged and burst, blackened blood seeping from his wounds.
And yet, it refused to fall.
He heaved his decaying body back.
His bloodied fist wrapped around the shaft of the spear adorned with decorative runes.
His blood was absorbed through the crevices and paths within the surface of the spear's shaft.
The spear flashed with a glow.
Nero felt the cold metal leave his hand.
Like a bolt of lightning shot onto the surface of the earth, the spear traveled.
The spearhead was rather sharp, and in a split moment, it smashed into the head of the fat Gargoyle.
Instantly, a strange thing happened.
Nero felt an illusory connection blossom into existence between himself and the spear.
It was strange and faint.
But it was there.
And that as not all...
The spear shattered the head of the first Gargoyle like it was made of brittle sand.
