Aamir's fist slammed into the beast's thick, pulsating veins, sending shockwaves rippling through its grotesque body. The vibrations traveled up his arm, numbing his knuckles for a split second before his body adjusted to the impact. The Thornfiend's massive, writhing vines lashed out in retaliation, their thorns gleaming with venom, but Aamir moved like flowing water—each punch parrying, deflecting, countering.
Then—
A sinister presence loomed behind him.
A low hiss. The scent of decaying flora.
A Thornwine Flower lunged, its petal-like jaws widening, revealing rows of needle-like thorns dripping with sap.
