For a few moments after the explosion, Herriman stood there, breathing heavily with Priroda's lifeless, still mutating body pressed to his chest. It was a bit of a moment of solidarity, him and this corpse, but after a few seconds, he discarded Priroda to the side, like a broken toy. Taking the sickle out of the hook in his chest, he tossed it onto Priroda's corpse before it was called up into the heavens. His body formed back into its usual shape, and he turned his head to Sol. He didn't want to show it, but he was tired, drained from that attack.

He stood there, confident as ever, and addressed Sol. "You are free to surrender, girl. Killing you will hardly be sport." He said, pointing an axe at her.