The air grew heavier, suffused with an ominous tension. The guardian's towering form seemed to radiate an almost suffocating power as though it had reached its breaking point. Its movements, slower but more deliberate, gave the impression of calculated rage—a creature that had been pushed too far, but still held mastery over the battlefield.
Pyris stood firm amidst the chaos, his breath steady, eyes alight with determination. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, yet his presence was unyielding.
His dragon blood thrummed with energy, and his aura crackled with sparks of lightning and flickers of bending space-time.
"You've pushed me hard very well," Pyris muttered, his voice calm yet dangerous, "but this ends here."
