A sharp laugh echoed across the battlefield.
Not human. Not sane.
It rang out again—mocking, high-pitched. Then came a blast. A wave of fire tore through the ranks of Ravagers, hurling burning bodies through the air.
Kael stood in the center of the chaos, flames crawling up his arms like living snakes.
Across the field, the Ravagers stirred.
Wolf-like, but wrong. Their fur was replaced by scales, their faces twisted into wide, grinning maws. They didn't howl—they laughed.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"This is annoying, Didn't Eir say he chose this mission based on the weakest threats? How is Fire's supposed to be their weakness."
One of the Ravagers lunged.
Kael didn't move. His fist shot forward—one clean strike. The creature snapped backward, skidding across the ground like a broken toy.
A sharp crack echoed beside him.
Max stood at his flank, blaster raised. A shot had gone straight through a Ravager's skull.
