The sky tore asunder with the cataclysmic breath of the chaos Draconian unleashed, a force so devastating that it vaporized everything in its path. However, it was the last time that breath would be unleashed by the Shadow.
Crimson and black blood stained the pristine snow as the calamity collapsed to its knees. The ice beneath it fractured under the immense weight of its body, struggling to pry open its mouth, which was ensnared in a prison of ice—ice unlike any other, infused with every ounce of Alan's mana. He had pushed the limits of his dragon heart, and thus was the result.
The Shadow lay impaled, a lance driven through its throat and anchored into the frost-rimed earth below the Shadow. It unleashed catastrophic waves of frost mana, detonating within its very form like a series of explosive charges.
