Nora froze.
The death miasma was flowing into the tent.
It crept through the entrance in dark, wispy streams, curling around the furniture before gathering around Sol. The blackish-green mist seemed almost alive, responding to his presence as though it had finally found something familiar. It coiled around his limbs, seeped into his skin and disappeared into his body.
Nora watched as the change began.
Sol's depleted energy reserves were already refilling. However, it wasn't his usual demonic force that was replenishing them. The death miasma was being absorbed directly into his body, converted into something far more sinister.
His shoulders moved as he slowly flexed them. The exhaustion that had weighed on him moments earlier was disappearing. His breathing steadied, and the oppressive aura surrounding him grew increasingly dense.
