The second Wolfthrall Ruler's jaw opened impossibly wide, the dark, corrupted mana pulling down from its anchor to form the absorption field. The remaining smaller wolves surged forward in a tide of bone and rotted claws, sensing blood.
Hide didn't try to dodge. He didn't reach for another Mana Blast right away.
Instead, the pure, unadulterated thrill of the fight took over. The Abyssal Scale Carapace reacted to his unrestrained intent.
The black scales, which had been fractured and chipped, suddenly surged with new life. They thickened, interlocking with a sharp, metallic sound that cut through the growls of the wolves. The scales crawled rapidly up his neck, rising in thick bands that covered his mouth and nose, turning the lower half of his face into a smooth, featureless helm.
Across his forehead, the last bare strip of pale skin vanished. Small, hard plates converged at the center, stacking and pushing outward into a jagged protrusion. Then another, and another.
