The forest trembled with an unnatural silence. No birds chirped, no insects buzzed, and the wind seemed to still in anticipation.
Lyerin, his senses razor-sharp, prowled forward, the weight of his earlier battle barely a memory. His clothes hung in tatters, stained with blood—some his own, most not—and his eyes burned with a feral intensity.
He didn't need to look for long.
Ahead of him, in a massive clearing surrounded by twisted, gnarled trees, stood a beast unlike any he had seen before. Its towering form was cloaked in dense, spiked fur that shimmered with a faint, otherworldly light.
Six limbs, each ending in dagger-like claws, gripped the earth, and its eyes glowed with an eerie, iridescent hue.
Lyerin froze, his lips curling into a grin. "You'll do nicely," he murmured, his voice carrying an edge of manic glee.
