Edward stared down the cliff where the white-furred beast had fallen. The echo of its roar still clung to the air, fading beneath the mountain's endless howl.
The faint shimmer of [Extraction Available] lingered in his mind even though the light had vanished, a strange pulse of energy that made his skin prickle with anticipation.
Could he really create a summon from a mana beast?
The question burned in his thoughts, refusing to quiet. But before he could even voice it, the wind carried another sound—a low, guttural growl rolling through the fog ahead, shaking loose tiny stones from the cliffside.
"Something's coming," one of the elven knights warned, his tone sharp, fingers tightening around his weapon.
Elarien's gaze snapped toward the sound, her posture shifting immediately into battle readiness. "Form up," she ordered, her voice cutting through the howl of the wind like steel.
Edward's hand went to his weapon.
