Knodalon's death was not marked by thunder or collapsing skies, but by something far more profound… a silent rupture that rippled through every living thing.
Across continents and oceans, beasts froze mid-hunt, mid-flight, mid-roar. A tremor stirred within their veins, deep in the marrow where their bloodlines slept. For a fleeting instant, their hearts beat in perfect unison, resonating with a presence that had governed them since antiquity.
And then… it vanished.
The foreign energy that had coiled around their bloodlines as an invisible serpent receded.
No… not receded. It was torn away.
For countless generations, that unseen force had bound them, shaping their growth, dictating their limits, capping their potential. It had masqueraded as instinct, as fate, as the natural ceiling of their kind.
Now, as Knodalon's will dissolved into nothingness, those shackles shattered.
Beasts felt it first as pain, a burning surge racing through arteries and nerves.
