A new, fully regenerated arm replaced the one it had sacrificed during the battle with the general. Though its body had been restored to full strength, the energy required to regrow the limb had consumed the remainder of the soul's power.
The gargoyle stared at its hand, clenching and unclenching its fist, a mixture of fury and despair washing over it. The power to ascend had been so close, yet now it was beyond its grasp. A primal roar of frustration tore from its throat, echoing across the battlefield as its wings unfurled.
But the frenzy that had consumed it moments before faded as quickly as it had come. Though enraged, the gargoyle knew better than to let its emotions cloud its judgment. Its newfound strength would still make it a more formidable opponent, and it had a commanding position to return to.
