Pulling the monster felt like dragging the weight of ten worlds. But it hadn't started that way.
At first, it moved.
Just a few feet. Then a few more.
The entire Academy shuddered. Statues toppled. The upper floors of the main tower cracked and slid, bowing to some unseen giant. Trees far from the battleground bent sideways, and distant waters sloshed against gravity's pull.
Northern let out a roar that wasn't human.
It was something ancient—something primal. Something that didn't care what lay crushed beneath its feet.
The sky darkened as clouds swirled into a whirlpool above him, caught in the orbit of his Will.
And the Leviathan moved again.
A full body-length this time. Then two.
The monster growled—more irritated than pained—but its limbs splayed awkwardly, unable to find purchase. It tried to rise, only to be dragged forward once more.
