Blue, revolting energy continued radiating from the gigantic wyvern. His glowing blue eyes were filled with dread, and his ravenous maw kept spewing cold mist.

  The combined assault of the nine had driven the hostile beast into a catastrophic frenzy. Earlier, he had been holding back his power just to toy with them. He delighted in watching his prey struggle fruitlessly, knowing that even if they escaped, he could hunt them down again just to continue the torment.

  But now that fa?ade had shattered.

  The smooth, gleaming layers of overlapping ice shards that armored his body, a form he had groomed for centuries, were now marred by the offending stickmen who had supposedly invaded his peace and defiled his master’s abode.

  His eyes burned with intense ire. The energy radiating from him distorted the air itself. It was suppressive and malevolent, clearly meant to crush them like the insignificant insects they were to him.

  His transgressors lay sprawled across the ground, scattered around him.

  Teeth clenched, fists tightened, bodies trembling, each of them struggled desperately to resist the oppressive force bearing down on them.

  Deinofrigus wore a twisted smile, clearly enjoying their futile resistance.

  “Not only have you defiled this sacred abode,” his voice thundered, “but you also dared to disfigure the great Deinofrigus.”

  “Be grateful, for it is I who shall be your undoing.”

  His throat shimmered with iridescent light, preparing to unleash another torrent of icy flame.

  Then he paused.

  Something felt wrong.

  He counted the fallen intruders again.

  “…Strange,” he murmured. “ I would have sworn there were nine… why are there only eight?”

  He scanned the chamber but found nothing.

  Until instinct... Or rather, the field of energy he radiated, informed him that what he sought was directly beneath him.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Glancing down at his cracked thorax, he flinched in bewilderment.

  James clung to him like a spider on a wall, his head buried within the fractured spot created by their earlier assault. It looked as though he was trying to widen the opening, either to enter the beast’s body or extract something from its icy flesh.

  Despite James being pressed against him in a chamber filled with his energy— which in retrospect was a mana zone, it had taken precious seconds for Deinofrigus to notice him.That alone spoke volumes of James’s skill. Not that the wyvern intended to praise him.

  His expression twisted in irritation.

  “Disgusting!”

  “What are you doing? Get away from me!”

  Deinofrigus swung his winged arm to crush the pest clinging to his chest.

  But he struck nothing.

  James had slipped away, now standing several meters back.

  He was clearly strained. His legs trembled, his glassy eyes looked exhausted, and his breathing was uneven. Resisting the wyvern’s mana zone was taking its toll.

  Yet something about him had changed.

  Fangs protruded from his mouth. Blue blood from the wyvern stained his lips, which he slowly licked with a weak grin.

  Deinofrigus stared at him, his melancholic, incandescent eyes narrowing.

  The brown stickman had fascinated him from the moment he initiated telepathic contact, a feat only a rare few could accomplish. When he forced fear into the minds of the intruders, James alone resisted and even rallied the others.

  Now, within the oppressive mana zone, though weakened, he endured better than the rest. He had even approached the wyvern’s body and escaped unharmed.

  Deinofrigus’s smile crooked.

  Through draconic sight, he saw James’s aura changing from the familiar mana merging with something vile and predatory, forming a strange hybrid energy.

  “Now that I observe you closely,” Deinofrigus said slowly,

  “you are different from the others. You are no mortal… are you?”

  James said nothing. His gaze, though weary, remained cold and aloof.

  Curiosity flickered within the wyvern. It felt as though James had awakened a power long, long suppressed.

  Deinofrigus’s smile twisted further.

  His gaze shifted toward Lysandra, who struggled to remain standing beneath the oppressive force.

  His throat glowed again, and a torrent of icy flame shot toward her.

  A gate bearing the image of a three-eyed monster suddenly opened before Lysandra, swallowing the attack.

  High above Deinofrigus’s head, another gate opened, releasing the same torrent back toward his face.

  The wyvern hissed in surprise. Even under such overwhelming pressure, she had managed to activate her ability.

  It was commendable of her but it was not enough to get much of a reaction from the mystic beast.

  Above her, an orb of condensed mana formed and fired a concentrated beam downward.

  She had no time to react. Summoning another spatial gate immediately was beyond her limit.

  Time seemed to slow. Her eyes widened in terror.

  Was this the end?

  The blast descended.

  The others watched in horror, convinced she had been struck.

  But when the light faded, James stood before her like an unyielding wall.

  A shield of ice shattered in front of him.

  He staggered, breathing heavily.

  “James…” she whispered weakly.

  Only then did she notice it.

  Cold mist and drifting frost seeped from his body, swirling around him like the breath of winter itself.