Ancestor Nightingale's eyes opened wide, his shock evident on his face, his heart racing out of his chest.
The moment Ancestor Thistle fell to the ground, the clouds rolled, Laws practically foaming in the region.
Almost on instinct, Theron summoned the Alpha, and it moved without even looking at him, tearing into the Laws that dissipated and Ancestor Thistle's corpse with naked abandon. For a moment, it looked like a beast without the slightest hint of intelligence, more feral than it was sentient.
Blood flew and the sound of crunching bone echoed.
Slowly, Theron turned away from Ancestor Thistle's remains, his eyes landing on Ancestor Nightingale, who was trembling from head to toe—not out of fear, but instead due to the chill.
It felt like no matter what he tried, he couldn't grow warm. His robes were soaked through, and despite the fact he should have been able to easily evaporate it with his Mana, let alone his Mana Domain, it just… wouldn't go away.
