And a twelve-foot snake materialized from the shadows behind Silas.
Its scales were black as midnight, shot through with veins of purple that glowed with inner light. It coiled around Silas in an instant—protective, defensive, its massive body interposing itself between her and the descending blade.
The water sword hit the scales.
CLANG!
It bounced off like it had struck steel.
Silas smirked.
"Jackpot."
The water sword hung in the air for a fraction of a second.
Then it clattered to the ground, forgotten, as the Mana Heart Rank 3 direwolf's fist punched through Water Demon's chest.
The elf looked down.
Blood bubbled around the fist buried in his torso. His water element flickered and died—not from lack of mana, but from the shock of having his heart literally crushed inside his own body. His dark hair, once pristine, was matted with sweat and grime. His pale skin had gone gray.
"How?" The word came out wet. Gurgling.
