The Chain-Bearer’s roar tore through the forest, shaking mist from the branches above.
Its massive chains rattled, each link thicker than a man’s arm, each swing strong enough to level trees. The ground trembled beneath its steps as it lumbered forward, blindfolded head turning as if sniffing out Aric’s soul.
Aric spat blood onto the earth, clutching his ribs. His sword pulsed in his hand, black flames flickering along its edge. His scar burned like molten iron, begging—demanding—to be unleashed.
Behind him, Seraphel held the girl close, staff raised. The priest’s face was pale, lips trembling with effort. His light flickered like a dying candle, but still he stood firm.
The Chain-Bearer swung.
Aric rolled, the chain crashing into the ground where he’d been. Soil exploded into the air
