However, it still forced itself up, weakly standing on its feet.
The black smoke around its body wavered uncontrollably, thinning in some places and bunching into dense knots in others.
It was a pathetic sight, a broken entity trying to reclaim its dignity, but the desperation in its movements was clear.
A long black sword began to form in its hands.
The weapon coalesced from the smoke around its body, a blade of solid shadow that seemed to swallow the light around it.
It gripped the hilt with both hands, its smoky fingers trembling as it raised the blade at Noah.
"Just die… just die!" it shouted.
It was the scream of someone who knew they were outmatched but refused to accept the end.
The figure poured every remaining ounce of its power into the blade, causing the black smoke to swirl around the steel in a violent, hungry vortex.
It raised the sword high above its head.
"Shadow Cleave!" it shrieked, swinging the blade down with all the power it could muster.
