The battle raged on.
The Ice Dragon, surrounded by the shattered remains of two Titans and the burning frost of broken magic, stood tall and terrifying. Its wings, though torn, still rose like blades. Its body cracked with frozen might, thick with ancient mana.
The last two Ice Titans fought fiercely, slamming fists into its side, but the dragon barely flinched anymore.
It turned its head, slow and deliberate, like a beast that had sensed something.
Its glowing blue eyes scanned the area… then stopped.
It saw someone.
A human figure, running away swiftly hiding among others.
The hollow dragon's eyes flickered, the blue glow trembling with something strange—an old memory. A shadow of the past. It looked again, staring through the frozen air.
Its mouth parted.
A sound, ancient and cold as death, rolled out.
"Léo'xavuth…"
The word shook the air like thunder wrapped in frost.
Bishop Polly, still under the barrier, gasped.
"Leo...?"
He felt it immediately.
