The Ravager loomed above, its crimson eyes burning with unearthly rage. Its claws scraped against the ground, sending sparks into the air as it closed in on Alyssia and Garrick. The wind howled through the clearing, carrying the faint whispers of voices—mocking, taunting, relentless.
Alyssia wiped the blood from her lip, her chest rising and falling heavily. "We can't let it get to him," she gasped, her voice trembling but resolute.
Garrick adjusted his stance, his sword gleaming in the dim light. "It won't," he growled, stepping forward. "I'll see to that."
The Ravager tilted its head, almost amused by their defiance. Then, with a guttural roar, it lunged.
