He grabbed Mozrael and pulled her back just as the creature's jaws snapped shut where she'd been standing a heartbeat earlier.
The sound was like thunder as teeth crashed against earth and splintered rock.
The beast turned toward them, and its grin widened.
"More face… more face to wear…Pretty face..."
Aramith let her go gently. "You can rest for now. I'll handle this."
Mozrael looked confused.
She looked at the creature, then at Aramith.
"I thought you were—"
"I understand," he cut her short. "Let me deal with this thing first."
"No, I can still help."
"Very well." Aramith didn't argue.
The creature's laughter distorted, echoing from every direction. It stretched its arm and tried to slash at him.
Aramith raised his hand.
His form blurred, vanishing just as the claws ripped through the ground. He reappeared above the beast, shadows spiraling around him as his sword took shape—sleek, jagged, and with black smoke dripping from its edge.
