His observation was cut short.
The creatures below had all turned toward him, their gazes cold, unified, purposeful. The air trembled as their malformed throats worked to form sound, their newly restored vocal cords vibrating out of sync. What came next was a chorus of distorted voices, overlapping and jagged:
"Blasphemer!"
The word carried divine weight, more a judgment than an insult. It reverberated through the air, echoing across the empty field like a decree of execution.
Erik barely had a second to react before one of them, the one wielding the frozen blade moved.
One instant, it was standing below, its gaze fixed on him. The next, it was in the sky, right beside him, its form a blur of cold mist and motion. The air where it once stood shattered with a concussive crack, shards of frost spiraling in its wake.
Erik's pupils constricted.
"So fast—!"
The air cracked like ice as the creature's blade carved through it, a jagged blur of frost aimed straight for Erik's throat.
