Damon didn't flinch. Even as the wyrm's molten gaze burned into him like a branding iron, even as its roar shook the heavens and its murderous intent swept across the battlefield like a tidal wave of flame and hatred, he stood his ground.
Breathing heavily, mana core still vibrating like a furnace on the edge of collapse, he stood atop the cracked earth, shoulders trembling from weakness and from the sheer exertion of channeling more power than his body had ever handled.
Blood dripped from his nose, his fingertips were scorched, and his vision blurred at the edges… but he was smiling. Blood essence was freely flowing into his body. Not just any ordinary blood essence! A wyrm's blood essence!
This was the strongest, or rather the most pure bloodline he had ever absorbed, and his veins burned, his organs screamed, and his soul threatened to collapse under the weight of it all.
