The golden-black fang began to spin—faster and faster—until it transformed into a devouring vortex. For a split second, it felt as though it had become a massive, ancient maw—something primordial and insatiable.
The black spiral fangs reacted in kind, moving as if they had encountered their arch-nemesis. They began to rotate violently, forming into eerie, grotesque maws that sent a bone-deep chill down the spines of the onlookers.
The spectators, already wise from witnessing the prior devastation, had long retreated to a safer distance—beyond the ruined city, far from the battle's reach.
From where they stood, they could clearly see the massive, monstrous form of the Dragon Eater—and opposite it, Drakion, in his human form, appearing as nothing more than an insect in comparison. But they knew better. Drakion wasn't a worm.
He was a dragon hiding in the skin of a man.
