Jack stood there, swaying slightly, his body trembling with the effort of maintaining itself against the constant health drain. Blood dripped from his armor in steady streams.
His breathing came in ragged gasps that sounded more animal than human. [Jack HP: one thousand four hundred fifty-seven over three thousand two hundred fifty] The hunger screamed at him to move, to kill, to consume.
But there was nothing left to kill. Eight hundred demons lay dead.
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