Suddenly, the Warchief from the other side of the dimensional crack continued, his voice no longer restrained, no longer holding anything back as it thundered across the sky again and again, each word filled with a burning fury that seemed capable of tearing the very fabric of space apart, his rage pouring through that fracture like a storm that refused to calm down, his grief for his fallen son twisting into something violent and uncontrollable.
"You think this ends here?" the Warchief roared, his voice shaking the air itself as it descended upon the battlefield. "You think killing my son is something you can simply walk away from?"
His tone grew heavier, deeper, filled with a terrifying promise that made even the bravest among the knights feel their spines go cold, their hearts tightening as they listened to the wrath of someone far beyond their understanding.
