Silent warning

Orion's intuition screamed at him, that it wasn't a mere coincidence. The sinister spark of dark magic had materialized precisely when he was about to end the undead wyvern, an ominous alignment that couldn't be dismissed as simple happenstance. Someone out there was harnessing the same malevolent magic to control this wyvern, the same magic that had invaded their home, the very force that had cruelly torn Lisa away from him.

The mere recollection of this dark force kindled a consuming rage within Orion. His bleeding fist clenched in silent fury, and the mana pulsating within him responded like a tempest ablaze. Yet, even amidst the swirling tempest of anger, Orion's focus remained unwaveringly fixed on the immediate task at hand. While others might succumb to the irrationality of rage, Orion transformed—becoming more focused, more merciless, and deadlier with each surge of fury.

In that pivotal moment, everything fell into place with a profound click. The wyvern's peculiar lack of aggression when provoked, the eerily coordinated magical assaults during their intense battle, and the inexplicable resurrection of the beast after a blade had pierced its skull—all the pieces of the puzzle converged.

It became unmistakably clear to Orion—The wyvern, with all its formidable might, was nothing but a mere puppet, an undead marionette manipulated by a malevolent force was definitely observing every twist and turn of the unfolding drama. The puppeteer wielded the very dark magic that Orion had just sensed, and the truth unveiled itself as an ominous undercurrent in the grand tapestry of unfolding events.

As soon as Orion felt the sinister spark of dark magic, the wyvern also responded as if receiving new command. Its massive wings unfurled, ready to flee above in the sky, but Orion wasn't going to let it escape that easy.

With a swift, practiced motion, he completed the runic circle and with the last sign, The enchantment took effect almost instantly, and a glacial frost began to creep along the wyvern's wings. The beast struggled to break free, attempting to flap its wings and thwart the encroaching ice. But instead of breaking free, the ice only spread further, encasing the creature in an ever-tightening grip.

A thunderous roar echoed through the air as the wyvern, in a desperate last-ditch effort, unleashed a volley of draconic tongues. The ambient temperature surged, its imposing horns elongating further, and flames reigniting on its wings, mercilessly melting away the encasing ice.

Yet, in a fleeting dance, the flames vanished before fully manifesting, leaving a palpable panic in their wake. Frustration consumed the creature as it grasped the irreversible nature of its impending demise; destiny had already etched its final chapter.

In a moment of electrifying suspense, a sudden suction force surged forth, a voracious whirlpool gobbling up the surrounding mana and quashing any desperate attempt by the wyvern to conjure magic. Then, in an overwhelming burst of freezing energy, a runic circle erupted, spiraling skyward like a celestial pillar.

A hushed awe blanketed the vicinity as onlookers ceased their frantic retreat, captivated by the surreal phenomenon unfolding before them. It seemed as though the heavens themselves had descended to intervene in the clash of mortal and mythical.

As the aftermath of the relentless surge of freezing energy, the wyvern found itself ensnared in the icy grip of fate. A few moments later, The towering pillar of an icy storm gradually thinned, until it vanished completely. In its wake was the crystalline sculpture of the wyvern—a majestic creature now frozen in time. Its once-mighty form stood as a monument to the inevitability of forces greater than even the mightiest of creatures. The battlefield, bathed in the glow of remains of snowflakes, bore witness to the culmination of a struggle that transcended the normal confines of magic.

Orion's gaze lingered upon the frozen wyvern, weariness etched across his features beneath his mask, evident in the laborious rise and fall of his chest. Tremors coursed through his hands, a manifestation of exhaustion that occasionally erupted into fits of coughing.

However, with a deep breath and a determined clenching of his fists, he forcibly subdued the quivering that threatened to overcome him and a cold resolve emanated from his eyes instead as he approached the frozen behemoth.

His hand made contact with the icy surface, and a radiant aura of white mana enveloped his palm. Orion shifted his focus towards the direction, where he had sensed the ominous spark. Though now elusive, he was certain that the true orchestrator of this desolation still lingered there, watching his every move.

Maintaining his cold, emotionless gaze, as if issuing a silent warning, Orion exerted a faint force. A wave of sound resonated through the icy sculpture, causing it to shake, the crackes snaked through the icy sculpture before ultimately shattering into a cascade of sparkling frost. In an instant, the once terrifying wyvern vanished, leaving no trace of it's existence behind.

Orion's eyes remained fixed on the distant horizon, a palpable anger simmering beneath his mask. Yet, he acknowledged the futility of confronting the force behind the undead wyvern. In his current state, it would be a reckless march towards his certain death. So Despite the depth of his anger, he tempered it with a reluctant sense of rationality. With a deliberate yet silent departure, Orion faded from the scene, leaving behind a battlefield devoid of the tyrannical menace that once roared within the streets of Elsmere.