Colin of the Ice Island stood on the vast and chaotic battlefield, eyes vacant, limbs stiff.
In the sky above him, a dragon was flapping its wings, stirring up a fierce wind, attempting to ascend higher.
But it had endured many heavy blows, with over a dozen spears and arrows of varying depths lodged in its body, tearing its flesh, imposing an unbearable weight upon it.
Its Dragon Scale was shattered, Dragon Blood spilled onto the ground, and its wings were torn, the entire body like a kite riddled with holes.
Snap!
It struggled in the sky, helpless to reverse its downward plunge, only managing a sorrowful cry before slanting down from the sky to the earth!
"Run! Run!" At this moment, Colin heard Martin's voice, distant and inconspicuous.
BOOM!
The dragon crashed to the ground, the earth trembled, dust billowing. Colin was knocked down by the impact, falling to the ground.
He sat there, staring blankly, oblivious to how he narrowly avoided being crushed to death.
