Inside the Blood Valley, the air itself seemed to throb with a low, sinister hum. The crimson mist thickened, as if the valley had begun breathing in unison with the beast that stood in its heart.
Fenric Bloodfang.
But he was no longer just the wolf champion he had once been. His fur was slick with gore—blood dripping down his muzzle, coating his claws. Yet not a drop of it was his own. It was the lifeblood of his allies, Vexa Moonscar and Ralkor the Ironhide, whose screams had been swallowed along with their bodies.
His back arched and cracked as bones jutted out like jagged spikes, tearing through skin. Muscles swelled unnaturally, twitching and throbbing with raw power. His frame grew broader, towering even more menacingly than before, until his shadow stretched across the entire valley floor. His fangs lengthened, dripping with saliva and leftover flesh.
Then—he howled.
