He dumped everything he had into his core. The golden liquid pumped through his body. He fully engaged the latent agility of the Dreadwing, ripping away every single restraint.
He kicked off the ground hard and immediately became a gray, blurring streak across the sunlit battlefield. It was the very first time he was using his absolute maximum speed. The physical toll was instantaneous. The air resistance slammed into him like a solid wall. He was moving so fast that the morning wind felt like literal blades slicing across his exposed face and neck.
His lungs burned. His muscles screamed under the sudden, explosive output.
As he ran, his eyes snapped upward. The bright morning sunlight glared off the petrified wood, illuminating the defenders standing exactly where the beast was going to hit.
And he saw her.
