The creature had been blasted backward thirty meters, its chest scales shattered and bleeding. A deep gash, easily five meters long, carved across its torso where Levi's attack had partially broken through its defense.
But it wasn't dead. Wasn't even close to dead.
The wyvern's eyes blazed with fury and pain as it struggled to its feet. Steam rose from its wound as its natural regeneration began to work, the gash already starting to close.
"Huff… huff… huff…"
Levi gasped for breath, his transformation flickering as his energy reserves depleted. That attack had taken everything—he had maybe one or two more golden drops left, and using them would almost certainly cripple his meridians permanently.
Across the plateau, Marcus forced himself to his feet. His spear was broken, snapped in half by the shockwave. His face was pale with shock as he stared at the wounded but still very much alive Golden Wyvern.
