Fifteen seconds had elapsed since the Herald pinned Jack beneath its massive weight.
The Herald's breathing had become increasingly frantic, each inhalation drawing more of the red cloud into its lungs, more of Jack's technique into its body.
The creature's massive head jerked from side to side, its golden eyes wide with dawning comprehension that something catastrophic had occurred, that the moment of triumph had transformed into something far worse than mere combat disadvantage.
The air within the localized perimeter grew thick, weighted down by an oppressive, iron-scented pressure.
The ambient temperature plummeted as the boiling demonic mana began to phase-shift from a volatile gas into something dense and suffocating.
The dragon's legendary instinct, honed over centuries of dominance at the right hand of the Dragon King, began to scream.
