Shadow tired of the game and moved. The Broodmother erupted in an explosion of gore as Shadow's sword sliced through it. Its very soul was devoured by the darkness inside the sword, but the hunger was not sated. It lusted for more. The sword was turned upon the newcomer, with much of the same result. Yet the sword still hungered. More soldiers fell where they stood, some cut down as they ran, others as they attacked the buildings. The mist was not picky. The bodies began to explode into even more mist, widening the influence.