A head flew into the air!
Little White Dragon's expression did not change.
The smile remained on his face, his eyes were still open, and his mouth was still poised to speak.
As his head slid off his neck, he even blinked.
It seemed he had yet to grasp the truth of his own death.
The instant his head separated from his neck, the skin and muscle around the cut were seared by intense heat. The edges blackened, and no blood flowed out.
His body remained standing. The cut across his neck was as smooth as a mirror, revealing the bone and windpipe within.
But they, too, were charred, with a dark red, carbonized sheen.
Only after a moment did blood well up from deep within the wound.
Dark red blood burst through the seared flesh and sprayed into the air, becoming a cloud of bloody mist.
The mist settled on the water and slowly spread through the clear ripples, leaving a dark stain like a drop of ink falling into clean water.
The instant his corpse fell,
his human form became that of a white dragon.
Silver-white from end to end, its scales glinted in the sunlight. But its head was gone, leaving only a bare neck, the flesh at the severed end drifting gently in the water!
The white dragon's corpse floated on the surface, rocking gently with the waves.
Its body stretched across the water for dozens of yards. Pale, cool light played across its white scales as it wound over the surface like a silver ribbon.
The severed head floated nearby, its smile frozen in place.
Even in death, he had not understood how he had died.
His eyes remained open, their pupils dilated, reflecting the gray-white sky and the dark green peaks in the distance