Jared acted as though the threats were wind; the Dragonslayer Sword blurred into a silver-gray storm, each rotation faster than the last.
His eyes glowed crimson, chaotic force nearly bled dry, and fresh cuts mapped his arms and shoulders, yet the blade never paused.
Jared pulled his gaze from the blazing wreck of the nearest sky-skiff. Lucky hovered beside him, wings beating unevenly.
Cracked crimson scales dulled the unicorn's natural luster, and every breath sent out only a handful of weak sparks. Heat that once rolled off the beast like a furnace now felt no warmer than late-autumn air. The change pinched Jared‘s chest tighter than the corded bruises wrapping his ribs.
A raw roar rose over the clang of steel and the hiss of shattered spells.
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