Sensing his own predicament, all Byron could do is smile and break out in a cold sweat as he hunches his back forward and takes a step back with his arms to his side.

"Hahah. Well well. It looks like Blight is pissed off. Now how do I get out?"

Byron's eyes dart side to side as he tries to find a way out between the constantly thrashing roots. The roots that once had precision to their attacks on Aria now was more akin to a snakes death throes. 

Whether by sheer chance or calculated intelligence, the Blight had isolated Byron and left little to no room for escape. Surrounded on all sides the only choice was to break out with force or be skewered. 

"Seems like I don't have a choice"

With a resigned voice, Byron lifts his falchion in front of him and begins to trace his finger along the blade.

Drawing blood from his thumb, he rips off his laquered wooden armor and begins to draw runes on his blade. 

The roots, continuing to thrash about began to calm as more roots begin to make their way towards the vulnerable elf.

As Byron finishes drawing the runes onto his blade he begins to chant a verse. 

"Pro corpore gehennae reddo sanguine, 

Sol obscurabit hodie,

Nemopeccatum meum testeur"

With the chant finished, Byron plunges the sword into his chest as he grimaces in pain. Then his pain turns into agony as his arms twist and his legs break. His body creaks and the sounds of snapping bones and tendons reverberate through his ears as they begin to change color. His skin changing from the usual pale skintone to a reddish hue. Claws begin to grow at a unnatural pace and he begins to grow nearly two heads taller. His eyes burst as chunks of new flesh begin to form. Replacing what was his light green colored eyes is now a yellow golden hue.

What stood in the middle of wriggling roots was no longer an Elf, but a Cambion. As Byron's transformation came to an end, a soft red glow began to emit from his back. Strange markings similar to the ones on Leon's back could be seen.

Byron gazes down at his hand as he flexes his hand open and shut.

"I never thought I would have to do this again."

His eyes shut tightly as he lowered his head and muttered under his breath,

"How humiliating. All those years wasted."

Byron looked up and gazed at the source of the roots. A humanoid tree-like figure warily stanced, observing it's new enemy's form. 

"Tsk. To think that a Blight made me do something I hate."

As Byron readied himself for battle, he brought his falchion up to a high gaurd and took one deep breath.

"Here We come!"