Zack’s POV
The air trembled like a drumline of death as the ichor-scarred pit shuddered. I barely had time to brace before the earth itself split, and a form rose from the black ooze—a silhouette twisted, grotesque, impossibly tall. My gut clenched. Every instinct screamed danger.
It was a Lycan. Or had been. Massive, every muscle bulging, fur matted with ichor and runes glowing faintly in the black, its jaw opening impossibly wide to unleash a scream that cracked the mountain’s bones. The corrupted Ancient Lycan had come—born from the ichor we had so narrowly survived.
“Hold the line!” I roared, claws extending as my wolf surged beneath my skin. My roar echoed across the battlefield, striking fear into the hearts of even our enemies.
It lunged immediately, faster than physics should a
