Draco smirked. "Let the slaughter begin."
The chant of a dragon, the chirp of a phoenix, the caw of a crow, the bellow of a demon, and the roar of a tiger.
The surroundings warped. Clones surged forward.
One attack. Several fell.
Most of the weaker beings were cannon fodder—though each was far stronger than cerulean-rank.
From the ridge above, Rose clenched her fists until her knuckles went white. He's been fighting creatures like this alone? Beside her, the other girls watched in silence. They had hidden while Draco bled for them. The shame burned hotter than any flame.
Not again, she thought. Never again will I watch from the sidelines.
The angry, ferocious volkoids charged. Draco's words had ignited their rage. They would devour him whole.
Draconic Draco led the charge. With a wave of his draconic aura, the weaker volkoids froze—dragons were ancestors to all volkoids, and that pressure meant death. One by one, they ruptured into blood mist. The ground turned crimson.
