The Crimson Abyssal Lion didn't rush into the fray. It didn't charge or roar, nor did it announce its presence with reckless fury like lesser monarchs eager to display their dominance.
Instead, the world itself seemed to bend in anticipation, as if reality were holding its breath for something that had ruled this land long before any of them had come into existence.
The air thickened instantly. Waves of mana pressure surged outward from the depths of the Lion's territory, heavy and suffocating, pressing against their skin, filling their lungs, and weighing down on their minds like molten iron poured directly onto their souls.
Trees bowed and groaned under an invisible force; trunks warped as branches snapped and collapsed inward. The scorched earth cracked open in widening fissures, magma-like heat bleeding through them as if the very mountain were reacting to its king's presence.
