Syléane staggered slightly, her scarlet scales now streaked with blackish blood, her heavy and raspy breathing echoing with difficulty in the devastated hall. Despite the crushing fatigue and deep wounds marking her body, a fierce gleam still burned in the depths of her eyes. The fire of rage gradually gave way to a more lucid determination, a brutal understanding of her precarious situation.
She slowly straightened up, her legs trembling under the effort, and cried out in a strong voice, desperate but authoritative:
- "What are you waiting for, you fools?! Go warn Belgaroth and the other dragons of my family! Inform Paris immediately! We need reinforcements from the noble families! I'll hold him here, but hurry, or all will be lost!"
