The Black Dragon lay sprawled upon the earth, its life flickering but not extinguished.
Crimson torrents flowed from a grievous wound on its left shoulder, and the once-majestic left wing hung as tattered testament to a fierce struggle.
Upon the ground, the once-mighty dragon raged in a frenzied state, a whirlwind of pain or unrelenting wrath directed at its adversaries.
In this dire moment, the dragon's rampage was a chaotic tempest, laying waste to the earth, reducing buildings and nearby objects to rubble with each unpredictable motion. Lunaria, unable to anticipate the capricious actions of the beast, dared not approach, for the path to the dragon's heart was shrouded in inscrutable chaos.
At long last, Luke reached the dragon's location.
"Luna, I'll assume the role of decoy this time. Swiftly dispatch this dragon," Luke declared, his intent to end the creature palpable.
