Numerous pure and impure combinations fought in a battle that had transcended any normal concept of combat.
The air was filled with creatures that had no names. Beings that existed between classifications, that violated the fundamental categories by which all was normally organized. Each one was a unique horror, a one-off experiment in what happened when corruption was given free rein to redesign life itself.
Victor quickly evaluated the situation.
The stalemate was obvious: neither his side nor the enemy was gaining significant ground. But staying in constant combat wasn't an option for them when they only had a fraction of an hour to maintain fusion.
Their enhanced forms operated on borrowed time, while their enemies seemed capable of fighting indefinitely.
A cold realization settled in his mind: they were destined to lose by attrition.
"Zhao!" he shouted, throwing the diamond potion toward the silent flyer. "Take Dragarion back! Now!"
