The clearing was thick with the smell of blood dripping down from Syl's spear, and from every weapon wielded by the Followers.

Akane frowned, noticing one of the Followers acting strangely.

'Huh?' Syl was just as confused when she noticed.

Unlike the others, this particular Follower wasn't in a fighting stance. Additionally, the look in his eyes was completely different than that held in the eyes of the other Followers.

He was crying. Sobbing. Tears were profusely going down his face.

His violet-tinged eyes gleamed as he raised his dagger.

"My heart weeps for my fallen comrades, my brethren," he said in a quiet voice. "For the High Priestess, we must accomplish our goal. By showing devotion, we shall all be reunited in the world to come, through our Lord and Savior Azaroth."

The other Followers froze. Their breathing quickened, their eyes glistened.

'Azaroth?' Syl and Akane thought with raised eyebrows.

The man's voice grew steadier, stronger. "Our High Priestess will lead us there. She will hold our hands. She will cradle us as we pass. And our Lord Azaroth will rid us of this disease, this pestilence, this curse."

He turned to his comrades, a thin smile breaking across his lips. "Devote your lives, my brethren."

Syl and Akane's confusion only grew, as the Follower raised his dagger to his own neck, and slashed across his own throat in one swift motion devoid of any hesitation.

Blood burst forth in a crimson arc, but it didn't splatter uselessly to the dirt.

Instead, the blood spiraled, drawn upward by invisible Magic. The liquid rushed out of him quickly. Too quickly. The entirety of the blood he held poured out, and his body collapsed, emptied entirely in mere seconds.

The Followers breathed deeply, and strengthened their resolves.

Their eyes shone powerfully as their fallen comrade's blood split into four streams. Each stream found its way into one of the surviving Followers, seeping through their wounds, pouring into their veins, thickening their muscles, and strengthening their bones..

They shuddered as their bodies convulsed, eyes rolling back. Veins bulged darkly under their skin, glowing faintly violet. The weapons in their hands pulsed with living veins of hardened blood.

Syl lowered her spear into a ready stance. "Burn them before they start moving."

Akane bared her teeth in a feral grin as she extended her hands in their direction.

A thick stream of fire was shot in their direction.

The Followers screamed as one, their voices echoing through the forest, before leaping out and beyond the flames.

"Fuck." Syl cursed dryly.

***

Meanwhile, the forest shook under each of its steps.

Amon crouched low, his purple eyes narrowed. Before him, the bull-like Golem thundered forward, its massive frame shattering trees like they weighed no more than a couple of grams. Each hoof-like step split the ground, shockwaves rippling through the soil. Its chest pulsed with that same violet glow, corruption spilling like smoke from its cracks.

But Amon's lips curved into a grin. "Too slow."

The Golem lunged, head low, arms spread wide.

Amon slid aside, swiftly dodging. Dirt burst upward where he had stood, the ground was cracked by the Golem's strike. Amon's speed outclassed it entirely. So much so that the Golem seemed clumsy in comparison.

"High Strength is obviously fun, but without Agility and speed, you really can't do much." Amon muttered. He darted forward, his fist slamming into the Golem's rib-like plating. The impact sent ripples through the corruption-stone armor, but failed to crack it. The Golem bellowed in rage and turned, but Amon was already gone.

He weaved through the trees with great speed and agility. His hand brushed the earth, and the Black Stone pulsed.

The Golem finally located him and immediately ran straight at him.

A groan echoed as the Golem's hood landed in a bubbling pool of blackened goo set by Amon a moment earlier.

Its body lurched as the tar-like corruption swallowed its foot.

"Fall," Amon whispered as he smiled.

The Golem stumbled, its great bulk shifting awkwardly, horns scraping a tree so hard the trunk split in two.

"The harder they fall, huh?" Amon chuckled as his claws tore part of the flesh covering the Golem's left heel.

It roared, violet light flaring, but Amon had already positioned himself behind it. His claws dug into its back, pulling chunks of corrupted stone free. Each piece dissolved into violet dust as the Black Stone devoured it.

Still, the Golem fought on. It twisted, slamming its body sideways, trying to crush him. Amon leapt free, landing lightly.

"Stronger than the others," Amon muttered. "Your Vigor Stat is way too high." He chuckled, before spreading his arms. The corruption pools Amon had scattered across the ground began to bubble violently, and threads started rising into the air.

The Golem roared and tried to charge again, but its foot was caught by another pool of black goo. The next second, the black threads rising from the pools of black goo started climbing up the Golem's body, spiraling, and twisting themselves around its body.

The beast thrashed, roaring and groaning, trapped under the thin, numerous threads of corruption.

Amon exhaled, his grin fading as he curled his back and brought a hand to the ground below.

The Black Stone flared, as his fingers sank into his shadow.

A moment later, his whole hand was submerged.

"Let's go with this one." Amon whispered as he pulled his hand out.

When his hand reemerged, it clutched a weapon.

A long spear, seemingly forged of writhing black corruption. Its shaft was sleek, its blade jagged, its edges dripping with black ooze.

Amon straightened his back and moved the weapon around, amused by it.

He walked closer, stepped on the Golem's body, and raised the weapon upwards.

The Golem groaned and, as Amon pierced its chest with his weapon, a violent light was emitted by its chest, and a shockwave shoved Amon away.

"Heh." Having been pushed a couple of steps back, Amon whistled as he landed on the ground. "Not going down that easily, huh?"

While he thought that the Golem was about to reveal some kind of new power, the truth was that someone was about to interrupt the fight.

In her hands gleamed the Life Force of the three Followers that had remained with her.

The High Priestess prepares to enter the fight.

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