Dragons Attack

Blood splattered across the King's golden armor, his movements swift and deliberate as he cut down his enemies without hesitation. Each swing of his blade, Aagis, was calculated, a prove of his unmatched skill on the battlefield. His piercing gaze was fixed ahead, narrowing as he spotted Lucan standing at a distance, far removed from the chaos.

Even from afar, Azrael could make out the sinister smirk etched on Lucan's face, as though he were eagerly awaiting Azrael's approach. The sight only fueled Azrael's resolve, his grip on Aagis tightening as he forged ahead.

Just as he was about to move closer, a voice called out his name. Azrael turned sharply, his golden armor catching the light of the setting sun, to see Sevastian sprinting toward him with urgency. His expression was tense, his movements swift, as though delivering crucial news.