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The Black Dragon Sarkeiz soared through the sky, seemingly flying from the moon. It grew from a black speck on the horizon, gradually eclipsing the brilliant, radiant moon. Eventually, half of the moon’s face was obscured.
With Sarkeiz’s appearance, the atmosphere on the battlefield shifted dramatically once more.
“Rooooar!"
The dragon’s roar thundered across the river again, crashing down upon the battlefield like a storm.
Several climbers dropped their weapons in fear, overwhelmed by the apex predator’s presence. As the roar faded, a cacophony of screeches erupted from the thousands of wyverns.
“Screeeech!"
“Skreeee!"
It was as if they were answering the dragon’s call.
Moments later, a palpable wave of magic rippled from the dragon flying high in the air. Simultaneously, the wyverns went into a frenzy. Their speed increased as though they had been injected with a stimulant.
The Night Witches were caught off guard by the sudden escalation. They frantically adjusted their brooms, weaving through the air in desperate attempts to evade the now faster and more aggressive wyverns.
But this time, they couldn’t dodge with the same ease as before.
“Screech!"
“Aaaargh!"
Several witches were unable to avoid the onslaught and were ripped apart by the wyverns. They dangled from the jaws of the beasts, their bodies limp, before plummeting to the ground.
I moved, intent on saving them, but before I could meaningfully...
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