The combined barrage hit the smoke cloud. Then, slowly, the Dragon arose. Its golden scales were charred, smoking, and deeply gouged. The wound on its shoulder was a gaping, festering hole, leaking golden ichor. One of its massive wings was torn, shredded at the membrane, dripping a thick, glowing substance into the void. It roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated rage and agony, a sound that spoke of ancient power brought low.
Mainu's internal thoughts were a maelstrom of fury and disbelief. That crazy insect! That suicidal ship! My energy is running low from all that body enhancement and the absorption of that blast! If I hadn't absorbed Terralia's essence, I would've died from that blast! These bastards! They can actually hurt me! Its ancient pride was wounded, its invincibility shattered. It had been hurt by primitives, by mere insects.
