Chapter 502: Battle Of Dura [5]
As Asher was about to pull out his sword, a deep, rapid thud-thud-thud filled the air. He tilted his head upward, his white eyes narrowing. The flapping of wings, vast, leathery and powerful, grew louder, and from beyond the curtain of clouds, a colossal wyvern descended.
It was massive, the size of a young dragon, its wings stretching wide like sails of death. Behind it came more... a squadron of nightmares. Over a dozen wyverns spilled into the sky like a tide of scaled wrath.
The heavens darkened further as the swarm grew. Fire poured down like rain. Jets of flame bathed Asher’s army below. Swiftwings, smaller, faster, swooped with surgical precision, picking up soldiers mid-charge and ripping them apart in the air, flinging limbs and armor into the skies like bloodied confetti.
Asher’s gaze sharpened.
Now, nearly twenty of them were barreling toward him in formation.
He wrenched his Kingsword from Garen’s body in one smooth motion, turning to face the oncoming fury. The instant the blade left flesh, the wyverns let loose a chorus of flame.
Orange mixed with blue, a superheated blend of destruction, erupted from their mouths. It came from every direction, engulfing the very space where Asher stood. The inferno roared upward like a volcano breaching the skies.
Without hesitation, Asher raised his hand and summoned a dome of pure ice, thick, crystalline, humming with ancient frost. But even as the barrier shimmered into being, the heat intensified.
Cracks webbed across the ice.
He could feel it, the flames beginning to bite through, the once-immaculate walls slowly melting and groaning under pressure.
Above, more shadows arrived. More wyverns.
The sky was now a roiling hive of death, thirty adult wyverns, their wings stirring the stormclouds, their mouths spewing fire with wild, unrelenting ferocity. Thirty of such beasts were enough to raze an entire city to the ground without resistance.