Staring at the massive Mad Dog Mistveil before him, Thoren did not rush to attack.
The two stood locked in place, predator and prey studying one another through the shifting fog.
The air grew heavy.
Oppressive.
With each passing second, the tension between them thickened, stretching time until it felt warped, drawn out into an endless moment where even breathing felt intrusive.
Then, the Mad Dog Mistveil Mini Boss took a single step forward.
Instantly, the atmosphere changed.
The fog churned violently, its density rising at a visible speed.
What had once been passive mist now moved with purpose, coiling and surging like a living entity responding to its master's will.
'This is bad…'
Thoren's pupils constricted as his perception plummeted.
More than half of his sensory range vanished in an instant.
The fog no longer felt natural. It pressed against his skin, crawled into his lungs, seeped into his thoughts.
