Draven's giggle carried into the air, a laughing roar that filled the whole battlefield. Adela's face stayed grim, her eyes fixed on the monstrosity in front of her.
"ADELA... YOU MAY HAVE THE POWER LIKE THAT BITCH, BUT YOU CAN'T WIN AGAINST ME NOW."
Adela seemed aware of the fact that Draven was talking about Anesthesia. A feeling of resolve rushed over her, but she remained firm, refusing to show any sign of weakness.
In front of the startled people, Draven ripped at Drakuseth's shattered wings, his claws digging deeper into the wounds while the dragon's agonized howls filled the air.
Before Adela could even try to get Drakuseth to safety, Draven's tremendous might took over. With a terrible scream, he pulled the dragon's wings from its body in the wink of an eye. The air around them became thick with the fragrance of blood as it poured down in a red downpour.
