Was this a competition?
He watched, in silence, at the after affects of the damage that was incurred. The force was now invisible tendrils, ribbons spinning out from the mind of the mentalist, as they wrapped around the empty space that surrounded the cultists. How quickly things had gone against them. In the flash of a second, blood and sinew seeped from nooks and crannies of deteriorating and etched walls. All because the former Voice wanted to prove a point. Or show off. Or maybe both.
Within the confines of the spiral staircase, wails echoed throughout. Turning to look at Carach, he shook his head. "Hard to beat that..." He cracked his knuckles as he stepped down the first stair. And then the next. And another. Until boots hit a puddle of blood. Kneeling over, he picked up one of the weapons and inspected it. A makeshift ax with a sharp spike on the opposite head. Another pair of cultists moved upward.
The ax moved from his hand, turning over on itself as it began to slowly spin. And as it picked up speed, the cultists stopped their ascent. The ax moved so fast, within stationary position, that it gave way to an image of a blurry floating ball - only occasionally giving hint to its original form. Without so much as a warning, the ax flew towards the two. Hitting the first across the chest, it deflected off the inner core wall and into the other's back.
The first slumped over, grasping at his chest, as he divided into two unequal halves. The other dropped to his knees as Reverance approached and knelt. He placed a hand on the cultists chest, feeling the head of the axe pushing through the back and the chest. He gripped the blade and applied a twisting pressure.
"You've died for this. For nothing."
The man spit up blood as it dripped from cracked lips. Before he could offer retort, Reverance pulled the ax all the way through. Blade and handle and all. Where the mans chest once was, a gaping maw now stood. As he collapsed to the ground, he turned over and rolled several steps before coming to a stop. Looking back to Carach, after inspecting the weapon within his bloody hands, Reverance shrugged. "I think yours was better."