Needed a Weapon

When he saw the terrible state that his body was in, Morne almost winced.

He had caught a brief glimpse of his current state while changing out of his armor and into the clothes he now wore, but it hadn't looked nearly as bad from the outside as it did from the inside.

The damage those claws had done to him could be considered minimal compared to the black liquid they had carried.

At first, Morne had thought that the black liquid only worked on wood, but now he had to admit that thought was wrong.

It was much slower than when it came in contact with wood, but the black liquid that had entered his bloodstream was undeniably affecting him, rotting his flesh from the inside out.