New Form

Murzok's gaze darted in every direction, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of Alex.

Left. Right. Below. Above.

The cockatrice thought, panic rising in his chest.

"Where is he?" 

His massive body trembled as the tension built, his powerful legs aching from constant movement.

The pain from his injury gnawed at him, making every step more difficult, more desperate.

He couldn't believe it.

He, the king of his species, had been reduced to this—a frantic, cornered beast.

And by what? A mere human?

Murzok snarled, leaping to the side, then dashing forward.

His instincts screamed at him to keep moving; Alex could appear from anywhere.

His wings flared out, ready to strike, but hesitation slowed him.

He was losing his composure.

Then, out of nowhere, a Blastshard whistled through the air, landing mere feet from him.

Boom!

The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the ground.