The blood moon hung directly over the center of the Blackthorn Ravine—a colossal, bruised orb of crimson light that stained the mist, the trees, and the shattered stone of Morwenna’s cottage in hues of fresh blood. The air was frigid, thick with the smell of ozone, burning wood, and ancient, desperate magic.Bellamy charged down the mossy slope, his boots tearing through frost-covered fern and black mud. In his right hand, his iron hunting knife blazed like a fallen star, bathed in a brilliant, humming sheath of azure elemental fire." Radices Tenere!" Morwenna screamed from the shattered terrace above.She thrust her hands downward, her palms dripping with glowing crimson arcana.Instantly, the earth beneath Bellamy erupted. Massive, ancient roots—thick as oak trunks and spiked with three-inch black thorns—whipped out from the mud like gigantic, coiled serpents. Three of them lunged simultaneously at his chest, ankles, and neck, seeking to crush his bones and pin him to the froz
Last Updated : 2026-10-14
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