Meanwhile on the other side.
The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the bitter scent of scorched earth. Avon's heart pounded against his ribs as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Astrid, his trident glowing faintly with the bioluminescent energy of Mare Fortis.
Around them, the werewolf fighters snarled and lunged, holding off smaller rogue monsters with feral efficiency.
But the arrival of the hellhound shifted everything.
Its massive, charred body radiated an oppressive heat, each step echoing like thunder. Fiery eyes bore into them, and with a loud growl, it released a shockwave that sent a ripple of terror through the group.
Avon gripped his trident tighter as he glanced at Astrid, she looked exhausted. "Astrid," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the growls and howls around them.
"I know," she said, her tone clipped, her gaze locked on the beast.
