Shadows of the Ancients

Arthur's colossal form moved through the valley like an approaching storm, each stride accompanied by the crunch and grind of ancient bones reduced to ash. The dry, brittle remains scattered beneath the weight of his scaled feet, releasing clouds of dust that coiled around him like spectral tendrils. The dim, reddish light that filtered through the iron-gray sky struggled to pierce the shroud of his presence, casting elongated shadows that seemed to writhe as he advanced. The earth beneath him felt strange—a pulsing resistance, almost as though the land itself resented his intrusion, siphoning energy with every step.