A Leviathan.
A Leviathan.
A damned Leviathan!
How exactly were they supposed to defeat a Leviathan?!
The good part was, the Leviathan was a Disastrous one.
'Like hell that makes any difference.'
Northern clenched his teeth angrily as he snatched a broken rock from the ground. He hurled his arm backward — the very wind seeming to part like frightened children before his hand — as it tore forward, sending the stone whistling through the air.
Nearby, one of those burnt abominations raised its clawed hands, poised to carve down on a female Drifter who shielded a young girl. Her weapon had shattered from blocking the creature's claws twice, and now her death loomed inevitable.
She folded down, accepting her demise with horror etched across her face.