The creature that emerged from the dark rift was no longer a mortal wolf, nor even a man. King Malakar stood eight cubits tall, his body swollen and warped by centuries of stolen necrotic lifeforce. His skin was plated in jagged scales of black obsidian, glistening with veins of bubbling crimson magma. Two colossal leathery wings, ribbed with sharpened bone-spurs, unfurled from his shoulder blades, and from his brow curled…
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