"Hold it—!" Mandira shouted again, her hands glowing so bright it hurt to look at.
"I am!" Shennong barked. The cursed sword writhed in his hand like a living beast. "But this thing's trying to crawl into my bones now!"
Sir Juno was already fully consumed by whatever the sword was leaking, the power it let out was insane even for Mandira who was an archmage. She knew this was an otherwordly entity that cannot be allowed to roam freely in this world.
And she knew the danger if it consumed a man like Shennong or Juno.
Tendrils blacker than ink coiled up his wrist, seeking his heart, his mind, his soul too not being satisfied by what Juno could give it.
Behind him, Juno snarled—feral, inhuman.
"UGHH. THIS IS PAINFUL...Samara...my daughter! I am sorry."
The words were guttural. Twisted. Not Juno's voice anymore.
Shennong gritted his teeth. "Is he going insane? That's the last thing we want now."
