With a grin displayed on his pale face, Cynathrax pierced the screaming soldier's heart with Shezmu. The flimsy chain mail simply gave away at the sheer strength and accuracy of the glaive. Pinned against the wall, the man began to choke on blood and go limp. Behind Cynathrax there were people running in every direction. Some were harassed by little imps, others were carried off by humongous insect-like creatures into the sky, and all the while buildings were being punched and demolished by a pair of golems.

"Embrace death," he whispered to the dying man, "for it is your inception to life." Cynathrax pushed the glaive in further to ensure he would not go anywhere, and then he began to feed. Like paper, Cynathrax ripped the armor in two, revealing the precious flesh and fluids that would serve to fuel The Blood Lord. He tore pieces of meat out and devoured them hastily. He then got down to business by tearing the man's chest open and siphoning the blood out of the veins.

"Perfect," he removed the glaive and allowed the body to slump onto the ground. In another motion he removed one of his gauntlets and with the other hand he drew his dagger. Cutting himself, he allowed his blood to flow out and into the now-deceased soldier. Once five cups had found their way into the open chest, Cynathrax knelt and thrust his hand into the open wound. "Awaken now, restless essence. Rise and claim the living in my name." Starting from where Cynathrax placed his hand, the body grew black and lost its features. Soon the wound closed up and the eyes began to shine with a gloomy yellow. Black cloth appeared over the body as it levitated itself upright. From within the robes it produced a shortsword and then floated off to partake in the destruction of the village.

Cynathrax picked up his glaive and walked down the street, followed by a score of thirty imps. To his left were two Blood Golems pulverizing what appeared to have once been a statue. To his right were three wraiths engaged in combat with a dozen foolhardy villagers who had grabbed the nearest object to use as an improvised weapon. Chaos and bloodshed had been brought to Hoviken, and it would soon be claimed by the ruthless Blood Lord.