Too late.
Jay hit him.
The collision was not merely an attack, but the clash of two ancient bloodlines. The air around them exploded, a shockwave ripping outward and hurling soldiers and monsters alike several meters away. Lyssar's silver armor cracked, its protective runes flickering wildly before going dark one by one.
And from Lyssar's chest a roar burst free.
It was not the sound of a man but the instinctive scream of a creature realizing it stood before something vastly beyond itself. The roar echoed across the battlefield, heavy and deafening, making soldiers' blood quake and freezing nearby monsters in place for a heartbeat.
"Zelthar—!!"
Lyssar was flung backward, his body slamming into the ground hard enough to form a small crater. He tried to rise, trembling fingers gripping his sword, breath ragged, blood seeping through the gaps of his silver armor.
Jay stood before him.
