Agram stepped through the dissipating veil of illusions, his hulking frame emerging like a shadow made flesh. Each step cracked stone beneath his boots, and the once-glowing glyphs shattered like glass under his presence. Rage burned in his eyes—cold, disciplined fury honed by decades of war.
The Warhound had been unleashed.
Around him, remnants of his battalion rallied to his presence. But the illusion field had done its damage. The battlefield writhed in disarray without clear orders, with two generals dead and the chain of command in chaos.
Then Agram raised his arm.
A blood-red glyph flared across his palm.
"Crimson Judgment."
The sky darkened as red lightning spiraled upward, then exploded outward in a dome of death. Militia soldiers screamed as fire and shadow engulfed the ridge. Half of Lucas's forces were swept into the blast—men and beast-bonds alike hurled like ragdolls.
Lucas clenched his teeth. "Aegis—NOW!"
[Skill Activation: Aegis of the Ancients]
