The fight dragged on, and Fin's dagger took a beating. The zombie went berserk, its vines thickening, body hardening like steel.
It swung the axe faster, a blur of death. Fin blocked a strike, but the impact snapped his dagger's blade in half. He stared at the broken hilt, then tossed it aside.
"Guess we're doing this the hard way."
The zombie roared, charging with new speed. He ducked a swing, but the axe grazed his arm, tearing through what was left of his suit. Blood dripped, and he stumbled, overwhelmed.
It was too fast now, too strong. Another swing sent him crashing into a wall, pain flaring in his side.
"Fuck, you're a monster," he spat, pushing up. The bloodrush kept him going, but for how long. He threw a punch, mana surging into his fist, and slammed it into the zombie's chest.
It barely flinched, but he felt a spark—its mana, raw and chaotic, brushing against his own.
The zombie swung again, and Fin rolled under it, popping up to land a glowing punch to its jaw. Its head snapped back, and he grinned.
"Oh, you felt that, huh?" He dodged another wild swing, weaving around its attacks. Each miss made it angrier, faster, but Fin kept moving, fists flying.
"Talk to me, big guy!" he shouted, slamming a punch into its gut. "What's got you so pissed?" No answer, just a guttural snarl as it grabbed him and threw him across the room.
He hit the floor hard, rolling into a pile of rubble, but sprang up laughing. "That all you got?"
The fight stretched on—ten minutes, twenty, maybe an hour. Time blurred as they traded blows. Fin's punches cracked vines, drew green blood, but his arms grew heavy, his breaths ragged.
The zombie didn't tire, its berserk rage pushing it harder. A backhand sent him sprawling, face-first into the dirt. He spat blood, vision swimming.
"Running low here," he muttered, forcing himself up. His mana flickered, weak. Then it hit him—he felt its energy earlier. "If I can drain you…" He dodged an axe swing, closing in, and landed a solid punch to its chest.
This time, he focused, pulling at the zombie's mana. A trickle flowed into him, the usual sensation washing over him.
The zombie roared, swinging wildly, but Fin kept at it. Punch after punch, he drained more, feeling its strength seep into his fists.
"Come on, give me more!" he growled, smashing its arm. The axe clattered as the limb weakened. The zombie slowed, its movements sluggish.
Fin's grin widened. "There we go." He unleashed everything—mana-charged punches raining down on its chest, its face, its legs. Each hit drained more, weakening it further. The zombie staggered, vines snapping, green blood pooling on the ground.
He kicked its knee, dropping it low, then slammed a fist into its skull. "Stay down!" Another punch, then a kick to its side, sending it crashing into a wall. The area was a mess now—blood and ooze everywhere, the air thick with the stench.
The zombie tried to stand, slower, weaker. He didn't let up. He wailed on it—left hook, right jab, a knee to its gut.
"You're done!" he yelled, driving an uppercut into its jaw. Its head rocked back, and he grabbed its arm, twisting it until the vines tore free. With a final mana-charged punch, he smashed its chest, caving it in.
It collapsed, motionless, green blood soaking the floor. He stood over it, panting, fists trembling. His suit was in tatters, his body bruised and bleeding, but he won.
"Fucking finally," he wheezed, wiping sweat and blood from his face. The drained mana ran in his veins, keeping him upright. He glanced toward the tower, chest heaving.
"Now… where's Julian-"
His vision blurred, 'uh crap, here we go again.' He thought as he collapsed to the ground, his body too full of power.