Dylan stopped for a moment, wiping a dark streak from his cheek with the back of his hand. The warmth of his blood mingled with that of the beast. His fingers trembled only slightly, but his mind vibrated with a painful clarity.
This burning inside him, this essence that always demanded more, growled like a hungry beast he had awakened.
And he knew it—every time he used it, it would take a little more of what he was.
Zirel crouched by the main corpse, using his dagger to pry the anima gem lodged in the monster's throat. The stone, still pulsating, radiated a reddish glow.
"Second rank," he confirmed. "Nothing special. But it should be enough to recharge a sliver of your essence, Dylan."
