Austin burst out of the tent flap, his lungs searing, the terror of the beast right behind him acting as a physical shove.
He heard a hideous rip as the Shadowheart, fueled by adrenaline and the agony of the sword and dagger wounds, tore the canvas tent apart in its haste.
The structure collapsed in a splintering mess of wood and cloth.
The creature emerged, fully revealed in the strange, eerie yellow light of the Eclipsed Moon.
It was an abyssal hybrid, standing taller than a man, with the heavy, muscled body of a bear, but elongated, clawed forelimbs and a thick, segmented tail ending in a bony, razor-sharp spike.
The purplish glow of the Shadowheart—the corrupted organ—was visible and pulsing beneath a patch of thin hide on its chest.
It let out a thunderous, pain-filled roar and instantly focused its gaze on the two fleeing figures.
Balvan, breathing hard, grabbed Austin's arm and yanked him toward the camp's center. "Keep moving! Don't look back!"
