Two of the gargantuan tentacles lashed against the gates, halting their closure with brute force, while a third swung straight toward the True Depriavta of Wrath. Vlad raised his sword into a defensive stance just before the blow landed.
It was only a tentacle—just one appendage of the imprisoned monstrosity—yet the strike carried such unearthly force that it sent Vlad tumbling across the ground, rolling violently until he finally skidded to a halt. Blood erupted from his lips in ragged coughs. His arms trembled from the impact, bones aching as though they had been crushed.
"What in all creation is that power?" Vlad, who had faced horrors beyond count, could not still the tremor that ran through him.
