Evening Odds...Or Not

Em-Sul looked as though he had encountered a particularly angry – and particularly large – porcupine and engaged in rough game of wrestling with it.

The bloody holes he spotted could be seen even on his neck, spitting out blood like fountains.

It was a wonder how he was still conscious, and far from unsubscribing to life yet.

It was also a wonder how he managed to avoid getting the Harmonic Ember stolen from him when Baddan's hand was less than an inch away from snatching it.

The Faction Leader's body – to quite the surprise – abruptly transformed into a full set of strangely disproportionate golden armour that was unnecessarily tall!

A vengeful presence exploded from it, full of vicious life, in stark contrast to the dreary air that Em-Sul's torn flesh had presented.

This set of armour had no perforations made by mysterious attacks. It was full, sturdy and glossy, standing at three meters in height.