The wyvern lowered its upper body to the ground as if stalking prey. Its slitted eyes gleamed like a predator. The moonlight reflecting from its scales gave it an ominous crimson glow.
Its eyes showed no interest in the tarantula's corpse lying on the ground, instead it was only focused on the living, breathing centipede before it. I raised my body up to flex my true size.
This way, the creature would think twice before attacking. But slowly it began to circle around me with no intentions of backing down while flashing its sharp, deadly teeth.
The corpse of the collasal tarantula painted a picture of the carnage that was about to unfold.
A centipede vs a wyvern. Usually both these creatures wouldn't even be mentioned in the same breath.
It was like comparing heaven and earth. And looking at the wyvern, I felt the difference between our power.
This was a monster I had no business facing and for the first time I understood how it felt to be hunted.
Escape…
