Lucky.
And on the ground—no, above it too, for their towering forms dwarfed the forest canopy—two colossal figures rose, each more than twenty meters tall. Their very presence dragged the air into silence and cast shadows that swallowed the battlefield.
Beginning.
Lily.
Michael's two undead Titans.
Immediately, Lucky's wings spread wide, scales shimmering beneath the night sky. His eyes—wolfish yet draconic—burned with a light that felt older than the forest itself. Then, for the first time since his advancement, he released it.
[Skill Activated: Intimidation]
A terrible aura rolled outward.
It did not explode like fire or sweep like wind. It pressed. A suffocating, invisible weight that ground against every soul in range.
