The construct that formed was terrifying to behold.
A giant warrior of pure shadow and malice rose from the pavilion floor, standing fifteen feet tall with armor that seemed carved from solidified night. In its massive hands materialized a spear of crackling dark lightning, its point aimed directly at Prince Vlaran's heart.
The shadow warrior moved with impossible speed for something so large.
Its spear thrust forward with the force of a battering ram, catching Vlaran in the shoulder and sending him crashing into one of the marble pillars. Blood seeped through his torn robes as he struggled to maintain his footing.
At that moment, Angelina and Jaegar burst through the pavilion's entrance, both stopping in shock at the scene before them.
Angelina's eyes went wide as she took in the dark construct towering over the wounded prince. "Aegisoran?" she whispered, using the ancient name for the shadow warrior technique. Her voice carried awe—she had thought such arts were lost forever.
