The wolf's four black wings flared, gathering wind from every direction. In one mighty thrust, it unleashed a gale strong enough to disperse the swirling purple storm.
Toxic vapors were ripped apart, carried off into the howling night. Even the stampeding demons below momentarily wavered under the onslaught of that gust.
Sierra Ling's eyes shone with disbelief.
She had faced numerous formidable mages—some from the Celestial Academy, others from competing factions of the Black Sect—but never one who transformed into such a gargantuan monster.
Her star palace began to flicker as her concentration wavered.
"Curse you…this can't be," she spat. "I'm a poison victim, chosen by the dark arts to surpass mortal limits." The sting of pride made her voice waver.
"I will not lose to someone whose magic I can't even classify!"
Another flash of lightning lit the clouds overhead, revealing the contorted frustration on her face.