As Lucavion settled into a meditative posture, the healing potion working its magic on his battered body, Vitaliara moved silently through the remnants of the battlefield.
Her sharp eyes scanned the area, taking in the scattered scales of the Lesser Abyssal Wyrm that had been blown away by Lucavion's final strike.
The scales, once a part of the beast's impenetrable armor, were now strewn across the crater, their dark, reflective surfaces glinting ominously in the dim light.
Vitaliara began to gather the scales, her movements precise and deliberate. Each scale was a reminder of the fierce battle that had just taken place, a testament to Lucavion's relentless drive and the power he had unleashed.
She handled them with care, knowing that they held a significance beyond their immediate value—they were pieces of a creature that had been formidable, and they might still serve a purpose in the future.
