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As Song Woo-Ji and Bong Me-Eon were cautiously pulled away by the little skeleton, Volk felt an odd, creeping sensation within him—a pull, faint at first, then growing, filling his entire body.
It was foreign, disorienting.
He shook his head, trying to dispel it, but the pull grew stronger, spreading from his chest to his limbs, his fists loosening from their rock-like grip.
His breaths quickened, the cold weight of dread settling in his gut.
The Horde behind him began to shift uncomfortably.
Several Orcs looked down at their hands, alarm spreading as they realized they were growing smaller, their muscles shrinking.
The ones who had been transformed into towering, battle-hardened Ogres were now feeling that power drain from their bodies, like sand slipping through their fingers.
One Orc warrior, his voice shaky with fear, cried out, "What… what's happening to us?"