The battlefield seemed to hold its breath. The sounds of clashing steel and cries of war dulled as the air thickened with an oppressive weight.
A cold, suffocating darkness spread like a shroud, and every creature—wolf, vampire, and Shadowbound alike—paused, their attention drawn to the figure materializing in the center of the chaos.
The King stepped onto the battlefield, his presence consuming. Tendrils of dark magic coiled around him, writhing like serpents eager to strike. His crimson eyes gleamed, cutting through the gloom as they fixed on Eryon.
A faint smile curled his lips, equal parts cruel and mocking.
“You’ve grown stronger,” the King said, his voice smooth but laced with contempt. He took a measured step forward, his black cloak trailing behind him like a shadow of death. “But you’re still the boy I spared last time. Let’s fix that mistake.”
Eryon’s muscles tensed, his claws flexing at his sides. He stepped forward, his amber eyes glowing with fury.
“You took everything from me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not running this time.”
The King’s smile widened, a glint of amusement flashing in his gaze.
“Good,” he said. “Show me what you’ve learned.”
Nearby, Lyra’s heart raced as she watched the scene unfold. The oppressive air pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe. She took a step forward, her instinct to fight overriding her fear, but a hand gripped her arm, holding her back.
“Stay back,” Cassian said, his voice a sharp command. His body was tense, his golden eyes locked on the King. “This is about to get ugly.”
Lyra hesitated, her grip tightening on her weapon as she watched Eryon square off against the King. The battlefield seemed to shrink, every other fight dimming in comparison to the storm brewing between them.
The King moved first, his forces parting instinctively to give him space. His blade shimmered with dark energy, the runes etched along its edge glowing faintly. He advanced on Eryon with predatory grace, each step deliberate, as though savoring the moment.
Eryon met him head-on, his movements swift and unrelenting. His claws gleamed under the dim light, each swipe aimed with deadly precision. When their first clash came, it was cataclysmic—a shockwave rippled outward, shaking the ground and sending loose debris flying.