The battlefield stood frozen in collective disbelief.
Transforming between human and beast form was no ordinary occurrence—it was the stuff of ancient legends, a power reserved only for those of true Beast Kin lineage.
Yet here they all were, witnesses to the impossible.
Jolthar looked down at his naked body, a moment of very human vulnerability breaking through his divine transformation.
"Fuck! Where are my clothes?" he muttered.
His wounds were gone, so were the bandages, and he was standing but naked.
His gaze swept across the pit's edges, where soldiers from Chittera and Hamen's forces stared with terror and astonishment.
Rows of eyes fixed upon him, mouths agape, bodies trembling.
"What are you looking at?"
The growl that escaped Jolthar's throat was unlike any human sound.
It rumbled like distant thunder, carrying with it a primal authority that made every soldier stumble backward. The very air seemed to compress around his voice, forcing an instinctive submission.
