High, high up into the skies his body was lifted as if it was merely a light weight, the pain on his shoulder intensified as the teeth of the dragon burst into blue flames, a power different from mana.
The Minotaur king knew, because it hurt much more than mana! The dragon's already sharp teeth, now encased in blue flame, tore his shoulder down, The bones melting.
[ARGH!]
But even in this desperate situation, he was able to retaliate! He must! He couldn't fall like this, not like this! He thought to himself, perhaps to comfort his restless mind. The shoulder that the dragon, Alan, had bitten into was not connected to the arm wielding the sword.
The Minotaur king turned to look down, and although they were high up, he was confident in surviving the fall! Therefore, He imbued almost all his mana into his sword, as a last desperate struggle to be free of this fiery grasp.
