Little Blackie remained utterly unruffled by his mother's furious pounce and Orgrimmar's treacherous flanking attack.
His molten-gold eyes brimmed with restless excitement.
The power of chaos's divine favor within him was purer than an ordinary dragon's magic, and far more domineering.
The Black-Winged Tyrant's claws tore through the air, reaching for Little Blackie's skull with a piercing shriek.
Little Blackie neither dodged nor retreated. Instead, he raised his forelimbs to meet her with even greater ferocity.
Boom!
The dull crash of their claws sounded like two hills colliding. A visible shockwave rippled outward, tearing the lingering poisonous miasma at the bottom of the canyon to shreds.
The Black-Winged Tyrant felt tremendous force surge through her claws, jarring her arm bones numb.
Her enormous body was forcibly stopped mid-charge, and she even stumbled half a step backward.
How was this possible?
Humiliation and shocked fury drowned her reason.
"You insolent wretch!"
She roared, sweeping her tail like a black steel whip toward Little Blackie's comparatively vulnerable waist and belly.
Almost simultaneously, Orgrimmar's Dragon-Devouring Vines coiled around him as though alive.
At the tips of those thick, scale-covered vines, every enormous, tooth-filled maw snapped viciously at Little Blackie's limbs and wing roots.
They sought to inject a paralyzing toxin and drain his draconic power.
Emerald poisonous mist rolled in as well, its corrosive stench so pungent it made him want to vomit.
The dark red light seeping through the gaps between Little Blackie's scales suddenly blazed.
He released a low, ancient draconic cry.
Its cryptic syllables carried the unique pressure of an ancestral black dragon.
Then his massive wings snapped outward, and the gray patterns along the edges of their membranes erupted with powerful spatial fluctuations.
That force blasted the entangling Dragon-Devouring Vines away.
Five pitch-black blades of light, condensed until almost