"Devour." The word left Max's mind like a silent whisper carried on a midnight wind, even as his eyes glowed faintly under the crimson haze still hanging low over the battlefield.
All around him, the black flames Karl had unleashed continued to ripple across the Second Circle like an endless tide of oily ink, casting shifting shadows that danced and twisted over pools of void blood and mangled corpses. It was the perfect cover, and Max intended to exploit it fully.
Without moving a muscle, he called forth the abyssal pull of his Devour ability. From every fallen Ascendant strewn across the battlefield, an invisible tide of essence began to flow, as if some unseen vortex were sucking the very life remnants from their monstrous corpses.
