A massive, aberrant creature emerged from the horde, taller and more grotesque than any Kael had encountered. Its eyes glowed faintly with intelligence, a cunning mind guiding its violence. The Wardens faltered, weapons ineffective against its sheer strength.
Kael's Sight flared violently. He extended threads outward, probing, searching for weak points, control points in its corrupted soul. Hunger surged, demanding surrender and consumption, promising immediate mastery. But Kael paused, observing, calculating. He began threading control, guiding lesser undead to entangle the creature, forcing it to overextend and falter.
The battle was grueling. The creature struck with overwhelming power, crushing walls and scattering defenders. Kael's body trembled, muscles screaming, yet his Sight wove tirelessly, restraining, redirecting, stabilizing. Each strike, each manipulation, tested his limits.
Hours later, the creature fell, immobilized by the precision of his control, not by brute force. Exhausted and bleeding, Kael realized the lesson: strength without intelligence and restraint was meaningless. Survival required mastery, not mere power.