Shouting behind him and confusion before him, an all too familiar feeling of bloodlust and burning as he downed the blistering beverage. The flesh in his throat, long since ruined, rose again with hot welts of acid burns. Eternal burning was one of the many prices to pay to become one of the fiercest warriors imaginable. Cho's confusion made rage boil in his veins, or perhaps it was the quick work of the drug. There would be no answer to his question either way. Whipping the bottle from his mouth and to the ground, the pouch hit the ground with a slightly hefty slap. There was nothing left in it, it was just a rather heavy container. 

Around him, the air began to feel colder and colder on his skin, and his flesh began to burn from within. Slowly his body began to sweat, saliva foamed from the edges of his mouth. [color=f7976a]"You, why!? I'm drawn to you! Drawn to kill! I don't want to feel anymore! [b]Let me stop feeling![/b]"[/color] With a roaring cry he leaned back and dragged his blade from the loose leather strap on his waist, its heft and girth tearing the ground as it was pulled. With no sense left in him, Feidlimid stepped forward at the sorcerer and began a wide swing of his blade. He pulled itself from the dirt and slashed through the air with ease, and could easily slash a man in two. 

But his vision had gone near entirely red, and depth perception had gone out of the window. All that would hit Cho would be a gust of wind, as it swung harmlessly a foot or so away from his chest. The demon could misinterpret this as a warning swing, but it was a combination of incompetence and poor vision. Upon realizing his first swing had met with no flesh, he would step forward again and again. Swinging its bulk back and forth towards the same spot on his body. Aiming to cleave him in half and end both Cho's life and his own feeling.