Nyssara slowly crawled out of the murky pit, her claws brushing the ground—immediately shifting color to match the terrain, silent as a shadow.
She was like a panther lying in wait, eyes locked on her prey, poised to strike the moment an opening appeared.
Bloodveil, meanwhile, was still deep in the slaughter, completely unaware. The blood-chains in his hands whipped through the air, tearing through a swarm of zombies in a single sweep.
And then—just for a heartbeat—a gap opened.
"There it is!"
Nyssara's eyes narrowed, and in a flash, she moved. Her body blurred into a phantom streak, shooting straight toward him.
She was fast—blisteringly fast. In the blink of an eye, she was right in front of him.
"Who—?!" Bloodveil's expression darkened as he sensed the danger. He turned his head just in time to see a pair of glowing yellow eyes locked onto him.
At the same moment, razor-sharp claws sliced through the air, aiming straight for his throat.
A jolt of dread shot through him.
