Princess Milabuella stared at the frozen tsunami, jaw dropping.
"W–Wyverns can do THAT?!"
"Mine can," I said smugly, sipping my coffee.
The Siren Queen roared, tail whipping violently. She darted upward—her body twisting like a monstrous eel—lunging for Raya with claws extended.
Her hands were webbed, long-fingered, each tipped with razor-sharp talons
that glowed with a sinister green shimmer.
Poison. Of COURSE the sea hag had poison. Her claws slashed across Raya's shoulder—sparks of mana flew—Raya shrieked in pain but didn't fall.
My blood boiled. "NOBODY MAKES MY WYVERN BLEED."
The queen smirked—(if that twisted jaw could smirk)—and sang again. This time her voice fractured the ice wall Raya made, shards raining down like glass meteors.
Raya spiraled back, wings flaring, catching herself midair.
The Siren Queen surged up in a spiraling column of water, her serpentine body pulsing with ocean magic.
She was faster now. Stronger. Fully enraged.
