Evolution

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He floated in a sea of darkness, just like before. But unlike before, he could see and hear and feel.

He roared, his maw gaping open as claws burst from his fingers, as his feet became grew talons and shoulders expanded, growing, the muscles rippling. A form terrible and powerful.

He felt the needles tickling his hide, barely an inconvenience, as he spun around to face Alzeron. The headmaster was laughing, and Nox beheld the blood coalescing around the Thurinian, a shiny red cocoon, whose hardened tendrils lashed at him, drawing minuscule gashes that swiftly healed.

Before him, the cocoon exploded in showers of crimson, and Alzeron emerged... A different Alzeron. The same mocking and arrogant face, twisted in a grotesque visage of a leering monster.

Not a demon, Erebos spoke in Nox's mind. Close to a Remnant, but nothing like it, either.

That he could understand the former Celestial despite his state surprised Nox. He should have been a mindless creature of hate and slaughter by now.

Our minds are more deeply connected this time, Erebos explained. I can help you control the power within me. You only need to think what to do.

His first thought, of course, was to kill Alzeron.

With a bellow, Nox charged, bringing his entire strength to bear on the larger monster. Alzeron had the advantage of reach and height, but he was thinner, built for speed and ambush, not direct assault.

Nox swung and raked his claws against Alzeron's belly, drawing several gashes. A scream of pain came. A vulnerable hide. The headmaster hurled a punch, writhed in lighting, and Nox howled as his body went numb from the agony.

He can still use magic!

And then Estella's voice echoed inside his head: He's not a monster; that's his Animarta. His own blood!

Is that even possible?

It is, Erebos interjected. A rarer form of Animarta, but not unheard of. And if a Wielder with that power is injured...

Nox didn't need Erebos to finish his thoughts. A nigh invincible weapon, that was Alzeron's power. How did Headmaster Garion defeat him? he asked Estella.

I don't know. Not even Father would tell me.

His legs buckling under his weight, Nox growled. The pain had subsided, and Alzeron was beginning to move, heading for Estella. Snarling, Nox surged, grabbing Alzeron's tail. He squeezed. The headmaster hissed and spun around, his claws arching in the air.

Using all the strength he could muster, Nox wrapped both hands around the tail and swung. Alzeron was surprisingly light for his size, no doubt the result of trading mass for speed. He shrieked, a sound not unlike metal being torn into shreds, and flailed wildly, his claws dragging against Nox's thicker hide.

It was ticklish, and Nox ignored the man's futile attempt at resistance, flinging him like a rag doll toward the trees. Alzeron sailed, his shrieks louder, until the deafening boom of his crash drowned his voice.

Think! How did Headmaster Garion break through the Animarta? It couldn't be something as simple as canceling its magic. It was a living armor, not—

He froze. Alzeron was struggling to free himself from the trees he had crashed onto, but his size was proving to be a great disadvantage for him and his blood armor.

Armor.

Even the best armor can have the smallest gap. Nothing is impervious. But what could damage an armor made from your own blood?

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