The dust began to clear. And the truth appeared.
One Citrineclaw warrior was sent flying across the arena, crashing violently against the stone wall. Another was dragged across the ground before being thrown aside like broken armor. A third collapsed entirely, clutching his shattered knee.
In the center of it all—
Draculeus slowly rose from one knee.
His claws were buried in the chest of another Citrineclaw warrior, lifting the man slightly off the ground. His midnight scales were smeared with sapphire blood, and his glowing blue eyes burned brighter than before. Then he threw the body aside like it weighed nothing.
The Dragonborn cracked his neck slowly.
"That was fun… You almost had me."
Arteè's broken glasses reflected the midnight blue glow as he stared at the monster standing before him. The hunters had not been finishing the dragon. They had been the ones getting slaughtered.
"So… this is… a Dragonborn."
