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Chapter 130: Confrontation
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Chapter 132: So Much For That Title
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... d like a falling tower. Heat scythed forward; breath went white-hot and straight; plates locked as if they were the jaws of a trap closing.
The ridge held its breath.
Fog pulled apart in long, pale scrolls as the Netherbreed’s roar rolled through the stone and pressed at their ribs.
Fire popped in shallow bowls where old oil had found the air; each flare lit the world like a shutter click—motion, freeze, motion again—until even the shadows seemed to change their minds. ...
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