At another corner of the battle that will go down in history....
The battlefield trembled under the shadow of wings.
Christopher stood amidst corpses and ruin, his Crimson Blade dripping with ichor that hissed as it struck the ground. His breath was heavy, misted with the stench of blood and smoke. The chaos around him—shrieks of goblins, howls of warped beasts, roars of dying orcs—faded for him, for his opponent was unlike anything else on this cursed land.
The wyvern loomed above, a towering creature of scale and fang. Its body was armored in obsidian plates laced with crimson veins, and its wings stretched wide, blotting the fiery sky. The maw opened, releasing a guttural screech that cracked the air like thunder. But its eyes… those burning, tortured eyes were what froze Christopher. They weren't wild. They weren't beastly. What Christopher is feeling from those gaze were almost... human.
ROAR!!
