The six fortresses Dyon built would allow him to advantage of the whole mountain range.
Dyon took a deep breath, positioning himself in a massive fortress he built to take on just a single opponent. His mind trained on the blood thirsty beast that was his target. Unlike his current beast companions, she was massive, stretching to over ten meters long.
If described in a few words, the beast could only be called a creature of the dark.
Massive bat-like wings that stretched from its wrists down the side of it back. A long, grotesque, lizard-like face. Scales of dark green and black coated its body, hiding the muscles that vibrated with vitality and strength.
This beast was nothing like those of this Region. It didn't have mixed DNA or severe deformities. In fact, Dyon knew exactly what this creature was.
It was the failed Dragon of history. A beast that was so close, yet so far from the mighty sovereigns of the skies.
The wyvern.
A roar shook the dark mountain range.
