Third Person's POV
But he no longer looked anxious or filled with panic.
His eyes had turned completely black, and there was no whites left in them.
They looked like two deep, unfathomable, and endless voids, like gateways to something that did not belong to this world.
Along with that, a mantle of darkness clung to him.
It didn't seem like some robe but like a living shroud that wrapped around his form, blurring his silhouette until he looked less like a man and more like a shadow that had gained will.
His body was still riddled with blackened wounds, and foul, deathly energy still lingered and crawled beneath his skin like a malignant parasite on the places where the gray spikes had pierced and scratched his body.
The corruption gnawed at his flesh relentlessly and spread with a slow, deliberate cruelty, eating away at muscle and bone as if savoring the process.
The stench of a thick and nauseating kind of rot and decay was unmistakable.
