Dead?!

He might have mana jet, but Leon knew the sky didn't belong to him. It belonged to this thing. In the air, the bird had too much freedom, too much speed, too many angles. The land, though? The land was where humans thrived. His legs were meant for standing, running, dodging—not flying.

But he had underestimated its speed.

Way too much.

Before he even touched the ground, two obsidian claws lashed through the sky like streaks of lightning and grabbed him mid-air.

They clamped down on his head.

Hard.

Part of his face and his eyes were now pressed against those metallic talons—he couldn't even struggle properly. And then it hit him—

That smell.

It was like rotting flesh mixed with burned feathers and acid. It made him gag, but there was no time to focus on that. His life was in danger.