As long as Noah continued supplying mana, the dragon could repair its damaged body.
He immediately poured mana into it.
A faint blue glow spread across the dragon's injured wing. Frost began gathering around the torn scales, slowly attempting to reconstruct the damaged structure.
The process was working. But it was slow. They were already falling.
"Pull up!" Noah shouted.
The dragon beat its wings desperately. Its injured wing shuddered, barely generating enough lift to slow their descent.
Tharlyssa watched from behind, her expression twisting into a cruel smile.
She raised her hand, preparing another attack. But then she noticed something.
Noah wasn't attempting to escape anymore.
Even with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and his dragon struggling to remain airborne, he continued directing it downward.
Straight toward the burning surface of the World Tree.
Tharlyssa's smile faltered.
'What is he doing?'
