I winced instinctively, my body remembering too well what that kind of force felt like.
Yeah… that's definitely an internal-organ-twisting level of pain.
A part of me had been worried—what if, somehow, that man managed to defeat the dragon? But seeing him flattened like that in a single hit was strangely comforting.
If he went down that easily, I had nothing to worry about.
I turned slightly and gestured toward the window, signaling Anna and Berno to move.
The dragon's attention was still fixed on the battered man, its nostrils flaring with heat. The perfect distraction.
If we were going to get out of here, now was the time.
But—
"Cough…! …Where do you think you're going?"
The voice, hoarse and trembling, came from behind.
I froze.
Slowly, I turned my head—and there he was.
The man was standing.
His body was a mess of blood and torn fabric, his armor dented beyond repair. Yet somehow, impossibly, he was still on his feet.
Even after taking a direct hit from a dragon.
