Shadows rose from the wyverns' corpses—thicker and darker than the natural darkness around them.
They peeled away from torn flesh and shattered bones like living ink, twisting and stretching until they took form: seven shadow wyverns, each shaped like the beasts they once were, but now composed entirely of blackness. Their eyes glowed with eerie, pale light, and wisps of dark mist curled off their bodies.
They raised their heads and roared toward the sky.
The sound was different from normal wyvern cries—deeper, hollow, like echoes from a cavern filled with ghosts.
Then, slowly, their attention shifted.
They looked toward Arthur, standing calmly before them.
One by one, all seven of them examined him, their glowing eyes focusing on his face, his aura, his presence.
Without a word spoken aloud, they understood.
They took a step forward.
