Zarek shuggled, wiggling toward his arm until he could just barely touch it.
The instant he did, he felt a flash. His eyes glowed, and he pulled on something deep within him.
He felt like he could see his arm in ways he had never been able to see it before.
'Well, hurry up and imprint and graft, then, dammit.'
Zarek's words seemed to be the final push, a wave of discomfort spreading from him as tendrils of flesh ripped through the protective barrier of Lurker's Godsfall to latch onto his arm.
It was a strange feeling, but after the discomfort, he sensed his pain fading.
Unfortunately, that only lasted a moment before he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
'No. Something is wrong.'
A foreign energy accompanied Zarek's arm. He recognized it immediately—the same energy that came from the Black Knight. The festering power from its blade strike was still present.
It rejected everything, pressing down onto Zarek's body with every intention of shredding him to pieces.
