The moment Eliron warped them into the sky, he distanced himself from Azarath and made use of another spell, one of the newer spells he had discovered.
[Dread Roc's Heritage]
Eliron stiffened a groan as his back arched backward. His clothes were suddenly ripped apart as black feathers slipped out of his back, spreading out to his sides.
"That stung…" he smirked, wiping off some blood from his nose.
The grand mage, Azarath on the other hand did not need wings to fly. As a vampire, flight was second nature to him, he simply suspended in the air, a small smile on his face as he watched Eliron curiously.
"You're a strange one aren't you?" He stole a glance at the magic tower that was several meters down.
"You say you will kill all the mages in the arena, yet you brought me out here. If not for your earlier threat, I would have been led to believe you were trying to protect them."
"Protect them?" Eliron scoffed. "Make no mistake, they are my precious hostages."
