Chapter 63 - The Tyrant's Hunt

The moon hung in the sky like a fractured blade, its silver light battling through a shroud of blood-red clouds that churned and twisted as though alive. The battlefield below was a wound in the earth itself, scarred with jagged cracks that glowed faintly, molten veins pulsing with an unnatural heat that seemed to breathe in rhythm with the chaos. The air was thick with the acrid stench of ash and blood, and a low, guttural hum vibrated through the ground, as if the world were groaning under the weight of the violence unfolding upon it.