The ground cracked and cratered under my fists. Each blow shook the battlefield, stone and soil flying skyward in jagged chunks.
The phantom's armored shell caved under the relentless barrage, the sound of splintering echoing like brittle glass breaking again and again. My blood pumped faster, heat rising through my veins. This was it. I could feel it giving way.
Then, a shift.
I heard it whisper.
"Defying Death."
Beneath me, the mist churned in a way I hadn't felt before. The spikes that had barely pierced my flesh before suddenly dissolved, retracted back into the black haze. The air thickened, choking, oppressive.
A low hum built inside the phantom's body, its cracked armor glowing faintly with veins of deep black. Its form convulsed once, twice, then steadied.
Then it roared.
