"Perhaps all that talk about you being one of the greatest dark mages to walk the planet were lies. So far you've yet to entertain me Valkuy, or should a say Achlys." said a figure riding atop an 8-meter tall jet-black wyvern.
The forest around them had been burnt to the ground, leaving a 1-kilometer radius of bare ground surrounding them.
"How do you know that name?" asked Valkuy, breathing heavily as sweat dripped down his face, his left arm had been severed from his body, and his victorian suit had burnt patches all over it, his white shirt stained crimson red from his blood.
"There are a lot of things we know about you, but that information will soon become useless with your death," replied the figure, his wyvern shooting out streams of black flames so hot that as it licked the ground the sand began to crystalize.
