The moment Silver Talon's glaive connected, the specters dissolved into wisps of black smoke. The armored figure froze mid-step, dark qi pooling around the wound like ink in water.
Without hesitation, Silver Talon pressed his advantage. His glaive became a blur of motion, each strike precise and devastating. The darksteel blade carved through the corrupted armor again and again, releasing bursts of energy with each hit.
"Look at the commander," one of his soldiers whispered to another. "He's changed. That's not the Silver Talon we knew."
"The glaive moves differently now," his companion agreed, watching the relentless assault. "His swings are lighter, more fluid. He's lost that stern edge he used to have."
The armored figure straightened suddenly, black qi swirling and condensing around his form. The dark energy built rapidly, threatening to explode outward.
