The moment his fingers closed around the Corrupted Core, the world ceased to exist. No pain. No sound. No light. Only the assimilation.
Not the cold, icy rush of a lesser beast. Not the chaotic torrent of a human soul. This was different. The consumption of something ancient. Vast. A being alive for a thousand years. Its life force now twisted and poisoned.
It was a flood. A deluge of pure, unadulterated, and utterly raw power. A force so immense and corrupted that it threatened to obliterate his own consciousness. The whispers in his mind were drowned out by a single, deafening, silent scream of a dying forest. A thousand years of slow growth twisted into a single moment of pure, agonized hatred.
His Soul Corruption, hovering at a dangerous 39%, skyrocketed. The number on his HUD was a frantic, blood-red blur. 40%... 43%... 46%... A runaway train. A meltdown of his very spiritual integrity.