Demonic Evolution

Medea was a blur, darting in and out of the corkscrew demon’s melee range at a lightning pace.

The demon had elongated, wrapping loops of its body across the ground as though to trip Medea up. Tiny thorns kept sprouting from its skin as Medea came close, but they were too slow to hit her.

The demon itself still clutched the skull between its hands, and it seems to be chanting in a strange language. Spikes of bright white light kept appearing around its head like a crown, then pointing toward Medea and shooting toward her.

Each time, Medea dodged or blocked the spike with her crescent blade. Between the thorns and the spikes, it was as though she were fighting off two quick enemies at once, all the time keeping her footing and not being tripped by the demon’s elongated body.

But Achilles saw in an instant that she wasn’t landing any attacks.