Black blood dripped from Kaden's daggers as he stood over the Death Weaver's twitching corpse. His lungs burned with each breath, and the countless cuts across his body stung in the cold morning air. The battlefield around him had transformed into a nightmare canvas—blood-soaked earth, scattered weapons, and the endless song of steel meeting flesh.
"Just keep moving," he thought. "Stop moving, you die."
His moment of rest was cut short by a sound like breaking stone. The ground trembled beneath his feet as something massive approached from behind. Kaden turned, and his heart sank.
The beast that emerged from the chaos stood over three meters tall, its body a twisted monument to raw strength. Muscles rippled beneath veiny skin that looked more like armor than flesh. Each arm ended in claws that put greatswords to shame—proper weapons would have been redundant for something built like a siege engine.
