A colossal explosion of golden light completely engulfed the dragon, its shockwave shaking the entire village, rising into the sky in a blazing column visible for miles around.
The smoke took an agonizingly long few seconds to clear, but when it finally did, Mark and Aria could see the result.
The dragon was still standing, but only just.
Its body, once imposing and seemingly invulnerable, was now covered in smoking wounds.
Its scales had cracked and been torn away in dozens of places, blood poured from countless punctures, and one of its wings hung damaged, scorched by the explosion.
And in front of the dragon, among the smoking craters the arrows had left behind, Alice was getting to her feet.
She rose with difficulty, swaying, her breathing ragged, her body pushed to its absolute limit.
But even so, she planted her feet on the ground, raised her fists, and flashed a defiant grin, as if the fight had only just begun.
