A bone-chilling wind tore across the snow-covered plain, the very air a shimmering white canvas of swirling snowflakes. Typhania, her silver armor gleaming like a beacon in the bleak landscape, gripped her rapier tighter. The Mystical White Beast's booming voice echoed in her mind: "Face your future."
Before her, a monstrous creature materialized from the swirling snow. It was a dragon, not the majestic, fire-breathing kind from legends, but a twisted mockery of its former glory. This spirit was of medium size, but its emaciated form seemed to pulsate with a dangerous energy. Its scales, once vibrant, were now dull and chipped, a patchwork of greys and blues marred by patches of raw, exposed flesh.
