Chapter 8 - The Valley of Fire
The western valley of the Moon Ash territory was a narrow, jagged gorge flanked by towering stone cliffs—a natural bottleneck where armies went to die.
By the time Enia and Kyle led their forces to the mouth of the valley, the night air was thick with the acrid stench of burning pine and tainted blood. Across the rocky plain, a massive army of the Black Blood Pack had assembled. Their pelts were dark as midnight, their eyes gleaming with malicious red light, and at their front sat General Vane—a towering brute of a wolf-shifter with a hideous scar running from his left ear down to his massive chest.
"Well, well, well," Vane bellowed, his voice carrying across the wind as he shifted back into his towering hybrid form, his claws scraping against the stone. "The little lapdogs of Moon Ash actually brought themselves to the slaughter! And who is this leading you? A human girl?"
A chorus of cruel, mocking laughter rippled through the Black Blood ranks.
Enia stepped forward, walking alone out onto the open stone plain between the two opposing forces. Kyle and her elite guard stayed back at the entrance of the gorge, giving her space, their weapons ready.
Vane sneered, baring rows of yellowed fangs. "Little girl, if you surrender now and hand over the secrets of your sacred shrine, I might let you die quickly. Otherwise, my pack will tear you limb from limb and scatter your pieces across—"
"You talk too much," Enia interrupted, her voice calm, clear, and carrying an unnatural weight that instantly cut off the general's laughter.
Vane’s red eyes narrowed. "Kill her!"
Fifty shadow-stalkers—elite assassins of the Black Blood Pack—lunged forward from the ranks, moving with blinding speed, turning into streaks of black lightning as they rushed across the stony ground toward Enia.
Enia didn't flinch. She didn't even raise a weapon.
She simply raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
BOOM.
A wall of white-gold fire erupted from the earth in a wide, perfect circle around her, shooting fifty feet into the air. The moment the shadow-stalkers hit the flame barrier, they didn't just burn—they bounced off as if slamming into a solid mountain of compressed energy, shrieking as the divine heat scorched their dark magic right out of their bodies.
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General Vane staggered back, his jaw dropping in sheer disbelief. "What… what kind of sorcery is this?"
"Not sorcery," Enia said, her eyes blazing with liquid gold as the ancient runes spread across her neck and cheeks. "Inheritance."
