Rising from the Ashes (Andrew) novel Chapter 3097

Andrew's vision blurred at first, then gradually sharpened into focus. He saw beneath the bleak earth a world of devastation and raging war, fires blazing across the landscape.

Black castles crumbled, consumed by flames. Villages burned one after another, and towering Highland Tribe warriors clutched their wives and children, leaping desperately to escape. Yet, they could not outrun the collapsing ravines that opened beneath them, swallowing them whole into eternal darkness.

On the distant plains, two mighty beings fought to the death.

Fenrir's fur bristled like black steel needles, each strand gleaming with an oily sheen that rippled with every savage movement. This was a werewolf far more massive than even Kaelen.

His eyes were not the typical green glow or black pupils common among werewolves. Instead, his eyes blazed blood-red, just like a vampire's. Its wide mouth was soaked in crimson, though it was unclear whether the blood belonged to itself or its enemy.

Razor-sharp white fangs lined his jaws below the lips, and from deep in his throat came thunderous, rumbling growls that never ceased.

Standing against Fenrir was Arcturus. He was a powerfully built man with his upper body bare. His hair fell to his shoulders, partially covering his face. Yet, the exposed jawline, nose bridge, and lips looked as if they had been carved from stone, sharp and intimidating.

With a roar, Arcturus planted his bare feet on the fractured earth, launched himself high into the air, and slammed his fist directly into Fenrir's enormous mouth.

Howling in pain, Fenrir retaliated with a swipe of his claws, tearing bloody gashes across Arcturus' chest.

Arcturus seemed to feel no pain at all. He threw his head back with a roar and commanded his people to retreat.

At this point, the Highland Tribe warriors were clearly losing ground and could no longer hold the line, yet wave after wave of werewolf armies kept coming.

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