Jolthar sank to one knee on the ground in the midst of the crater; he clutched the Horgath's hilt with one hand, supporting himself.
Each laboured breath sent spasms of pain through his chest as the chaos corruption spread further through his veins. Beneath his skin, blue-black tendrils pulsed with each heartbeat—the price of wielding powers no mortal was meant to command.
He thought they worked fine, but the result was the same as before. Though the power was devastating, he was now paying the price for combining chaos and aura.
His green Beast King energy flowed across his body in healing waves, knitting damaged tissue and purging toxins. But it struggled against the chaos corruption.
These two forces within him—life and chaos—waged constant war for dominance of his flesh.
