The space warped from the sheer heat that smoked out of the Killdeer Mountains, now reduced to a valley of black glass and char.
The dragon beat its wings against the air, smoldering fumes streaming from its snout.
It growled in brewing fury… a livid glint flickering in the depths of its slitted eyes.
The humans had definitely gotten away. As a dragon, it was well familiar with the intoxicating smell a burning human gave off, and it detected none of it.
It was filled with rancor…
Its maw parted, letting out another sky-shaking roar.
Meanwhile, beneath it, the new batch of Bloodborne appeared in troves.
A figure leading this batch frowned at the sight that lay before him.
Then he glanced at the sky, narrowing his gaze at the sight of the dragon.
But it was clear there was no fear in his eyes. His figure took to the skies, riding the wind.
Arriving fearlessly before the dragon in the air, an ancient dialect rumbled from the Bloodborne's throat…
