The Warlord pulled its pillar free from the mud.
It turned all four of its red eyes on Holden and opened its mouth, revealing rows of black teeth that stretched all the way down its glowing red throat.
"RRROOOAAARRR!"
The roar hit Holden like a physical wall. It shook his cloak, flattened the mud around his boots, and made the rain seem to flow sideways for a second. Behind the Warlord, every single beast in the horde dropped flat to the ground, terrified and completely submissive.
Holden didn't flinch.
But behind him, he heard Lyra's sharp intake of breath. He glanced back over his shoulder.
She was on her knees, one arm wrapped around Emric's broken body, the other raised in a defensive stance. Her face was pale, her energy nearly spent. Her eyes met his and they were wide with fear.
Not fear for herself but for him.
Holden offered a reassuring smile, silently telling her that he had everything under control.
Then he turned back to the Warlord.
