A sound unlike anything Apollo had heard in centuries shook the clearing, not a roar or howl, but a vast, subsonic vibration that resonated through the earth itself. Pain. The forest was in pain.
The wolves froze mid-attack, their burning eyes suddenly unfocused as if listening to a distant voice. The corruption in their veins pulsed erratically, golden light flickering like candles in wind.
"Now!" Apollo shouted. "Strike while they're disoriented!"
Thorin reacted first, his axe sweeping in a devastating arc that caught two wolves in a single blow. The dwarf fought with renewed fury, each strike precise and deadly despite his exhaustion.
Cale moved with a soldier's discipline, his sword finding vital points with methodical efficiency. Renna darted between them, her knife opening golden throats with surgical precision.
