The Demon Monarchs, the Beastkin, the Primal Dwarven King, and even Iris—all of them were immobilized, locked in place as if the very essence of time had been seized. Their eyes flickered with shock and confusion and their bodies refused to respond.
Even the shadows that had tried to snatch the boy and girl ceased their writhing, trapped in their own suspended state of fear.
Yet, in the midst of this impossible stillness, the boy's eyes slowly shifted, moving ever so slightly to his right. His gaze, though calm, was filled with a quiet recognition as if he knew this presence all too well.
From the frozen air, a figure stepped forward, each step slow and deliberate. He moved with a grace that defied the chaos around him, completely unaffected by the frozen reality that bound the others. His very presence exuded a power that dwarfed even the Monarchs.
