Nero fights.
The room becomes a blur of unholiness, claws anda biting silver light. Gungnir bit through the air like the horns of a bull, each strike breaking through the wet bodies of the Hollows.
In this state, technique was no more, pushed to the very edges of his consciousness. The Crimson Crucible style demanded momentum and he gave it everything, pressing forward even when cornered, refusing to yield even the slightest of grounds at the cost of his body's integrity.
A Hollow lunged at him from his left. Nero pivoted and drove the spear through its throat, ripping sideways to open the wound further before kicking the body into two more behind it. He spun and caught another mid-leap, impaling it through the abdomen before hurling it toward the shattered windows.
And yet, the damned things... they kept coming!
