Chapter 91
After a stunned moment, the air suddenly fills with the flash and bang of flying magic. Bolts of Myrkai fire erupt, washing over the blueshell, blooming in balls of flame on its carapace or missing entirely to burst among the crowd. More screams, the shouting of pack leaders trying to organize a defense, the panicked rush of people determined to get out of the way. The blueshell stalks forward, clawed arms rising and falling, already tinged with blood. The mass of sword-tipped tentacles at its mouth stretches out, slashing and skewering, lifting bits of torn flesh to be consumed. I see a boy rolling on the ground, clutching at the stump of his arm, moments before the tentacles descend and silence him for good. One big claw grabs a younger girl, lifting her screaming into the air. She lash
- Writer
