As soon as he taunted Prince Alaric, the darkness around him thickened suddenly.
It was as if the sky itself were being blotted out by something.
Rex stood in the center of the massive pit he had created, his gaze lifting to the heavens—as he came to the realization that the sky was indeed being blotted out. What he saw sent a shiver of excitement through him.
Countless shadows began to descend, like a relentless barrage from some monstrous force.
Soon, the ground quaked with each impact.
In a span of a few seconds, the once-shattered landscape now teeming with movement.
One by one, the shadows hit the earth and took form—legions of Werewolves, bare-chested or in ancient black armor. Their numbers were overwhelming, filling the plain with a seething mass of fur, fangs, and fury.
Each beast emerged with a snarling ferocity, their eyes were filled with grief and wrath.
