Wrath is more in tune with his wife than Wangji due to their deep connection to one another - tattooed against the skin of their arms, agreed upon before. He can feel the moment she calls on her magic and the moment she unleashes it, and he disappears as smoke and gold wisps wrap around his body. His wife's aim is impeccable at the moment, and the creature lets out such glorious noises of pain as it finds itself burning alive.
He appears behind the place where she's aimed. The skin of its flesh burns with a unique scent of death and coldness. The fire moves across the creature's skin as Emilia maintains concentration on this bolt of pure fire generating from her. Wrath follows after the fire, and he carves through the burned flesh with his dagger. He digs the blade through the skin into the monster, carving it open, tearing its insides out - this is likely unnecessary, but he does like to be thorough.
His hand is close enough to the heat of her fire to feel its incredible burn. He smiles wickedly at the way that it feels, hot enough to nearly be painful. Wrath does love the way she makes him burn when nothing else in any realm could, nothing else through the entirety of his timeless existence except a Goddess of Fury carved in the Underworld before he was created above.
The creature continues to burn, continues to wriggle and struggle against the immense heat and carving, but it fails - the noises of pain devolve into screeching now through its final moments.
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He appears behind the place where she's aimed. The skin of its flesh burns with a unique scent of death and coldness. The fire moves across the creature's skin as Emilia maintains concentration on this bolt of pure fire generating from her. Wrath follows after the fire, and he carves through the burned flesh with his dagger. He digs the blade through the skin into the monster, carving it open, tearing its insides out - this is likely unnecessary, but he does like to be thorough.
His hand is close enough to the heat of her fire to feel its incredible burn. He smiles wickedly at the way that it feels, hot enough to nearly be painful. Wrath does love the way she makes him burn when nothing else in any realm could, nothing else through the entirety of his timeless existence except a Goddess of Fury carved in the Underworld before he was created above.
The creature continues to burn, continues to wriggle and struggle against the immense heat and carving, but it fails - the noises of pain devolve into screeching now through its final moments.