Chapter 37: Second Blood
Caelan and Gruden no longer resembled anything born of man.
They stood like predators carved from the marrow of war itself, bloodlust thickening the air until it shimmered with tension. The ground cracked beneath them as they surged forward, blurred shapes of raw aggression, twin storms chasing ruin.
Aric's gaze snapped upward. His scythe met Caelan’s blade a breath too late.
CLANG.
The steel scream of the clash sent quakes down Aric’s spine, his bones protesting the sheer weight behind the blow. It was not the delicate, calculating assault of the Lucerna clan, who fought like poets of precision and intellect. No, the Blackthorn legacy fought like blood-drunk gods.
They were flesh-forged weapons, built to manipulate their very biology: channeling mana into th
