"Faster! They're gaining!"
The carriage violently shook as it tore down the dirt road, the four Spirit Stags foaming at the mouth as they galloped at magical speeds.
Their hooves struck the ground with the force of hammers, kicking up clouds of dust that choked the night air.
But the cloud rising behind them was bigger.
Illuminated by the harsh orange glow of torches, a stampede of forty elite riders was closing the distance. And at the front of that avalanche of steel and malice was a monster.
Baelor, the Slaver King, wasn't riding a horse. He was mounted atop a Steel-Scaled Rhino, a massive 4th-Order beast with armor plates thick enough to shrug off siege weaponry. The ground trembled with every step it took.
But the beast wasn't the scary part.
It was the pressure.
CLANK. CLANK.
Damien could hear it in his mind, the sound of phantom chains rattling. It wasn't a physical sound; it was a psychic weight pressing down on his soul.
