The Beast Leader had no idea how he had sprawled across the cold, merciless ice.
His body slammed against the frozen surface with a dull crack, reverberating across the battlefield like a drum of humiliation.
The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, leaving him gasping as frost bit into his flesh.
For a moment, he could do nothing but lie there, the world tilting around him, the silence in his ears broken only by the rush of his own blood.
When he finally staggered upright, still reeling from the blow, his hand instinctively rose to his cheek. The skin there throbbed violently beneath his fingertips, tender and swollen. He pulled his hand away and saw dark smudges of violet already blooming beneath his skin—a mark of defeat, a bruise too ugly and too public to be ignored.
Yes… he had been struck.
And the culprit?
Kael:"..." ??
