Horace looked at Big Dog lying flat and inexplicably felt the urge to stroke his fur. Fortunately, he held back in the end, or things would have been awkward.
The Dragon Lord's wounds had yet to heal, but his eyes were full of schadenfreude.
Maliketh could not be bothered with them.
He simply lay there with his eyes closed, his tail moving now and then.
Mm.
Actually, this place was pretty nice too. Apart from the slightly noisy wind, life as a wolf was peaceful.
Maliketh rolled over into a more comfortable position.
He really was a little sleepy.
I'll just sleep for a bit...
He was still guarding Destined Death, after all.
As for where he guarded it... what difference did it make?
And so Maliketh drifted off to sleep.
Beyond the storm, the ruins of Crumbling Farum Azula rose and fell amid the sea of clouds.
The ice dragon Borealis hovered in midair, his enormous wings paddling absently through the air, bewilderment written all over his face.
He turned to look left. No Fortissax. He turned to look right. Neither of those two was there either.
"?"
How strange.
Where was that Ancient Dragon? Where was that talkative human?
He waited another two seconds. Still nothing.
Forget it.
He lowered his head and looked at the things scattered through the ruins below-some long-weathered bones. The ice dragon's eyes lit up. He was a little hungry.
Nothing in the world mattered more than filling his belly.
He dove.
Meanwhile, a deafening crash rang out from the Beast Clergyman's Sanctum on the other side of Crumbling Farum Azula.
Dust filled the sky, and rubble flew everywhere.
Godwyn crawled out of the ruins of the Beast Clergyman's Sanctum, his golden hair caked with dust.
He coughed twice, spat out half a