The momentary stillness hadn't even settled.
The battlefield's brief hesitation—shock, recalibration, the sudden intrusion of something that should not be here—was cut off mid-breath as the ground screamed.
The earth abyssal's domain surged again.
An entire section of the remaining outer wall—ballistae, barricades, even some corrupted soldiers—simply folded inward as gravity inverted. What had been solid fortification moments ago sank like wet clay, dragged toward a rotating mass of corrupted earth that chewed and swallowed without haste.
The fortress wards flared in protest.
Runes ignited across walls and towers, overlapping barriers grinding against one another as they tried to compensate for the sudden pressure spike. Light fractured. Several sigils blew out entirely, their anchors snapping with sharp, concussive cracks.
Screams returned.
The battlefield would not pause for long simply because there was a new demigod on the field.
