The air rippled with heat as the hulking, ever-smiling demon stepped from the smoke. Its skin was a glossy, dark crimson, stretched taut over bulging muscle, as though it had been carved from some obscene, living statue. The grin never faltered. It was too wide, too sharp, filled with jagged teeth that seemed to glisten no matter how dim the light. Each breath rattled like a forge's bellows.
Seyren ducked low and darted behind a small hut connected to the base of the watchtower, his back pressed against the rough planks. He clenched his fists, trembling slightly despite himself. From here, he could only catch fragments of the fight, the blur of the demon's claws, the thunder of its stomps, and the sound of barriers snapping apart like wet parchment.
The hulking demon didn't rush. It didn't need to. Each step forward shook the broken stone beneath their feet, the air thickening with the weight of its chaotic mana.
