The sky was lit up with sparks.
Owen recovered from Vorthraxx's last strike just in time to see the adult dragon circling back, his purple-veined scales catching the light bleeding through the clouds. The battlefield below was a smear of motion: hunters and demons locked in combat, the lines shifting by inches, by feet, by bodies. But up here, there was only the two of them.
Owen activated his [Dragon's Eye]. Vorthraxx's movements slowed in his perception, not enough to matter, but enough to track. The adult dragon was faster, stronger, more experienced. But Owen had more than enough months learning to read momentum, to predict strikes before they came, to move where his opponent would be instead of where he was.
Then vorthraxx dove toward him!
