Eagle's End

The painful cry of an unfortunate nestling burst from the great eagle's throat, spreading its agony to every observer of the brutal bloody scene. The Conqueror Flame Raider was himself to blame for what was happening, he acted arrogantly, yet he was not strong enough to defend his right to look down on the others.

Perhaps if the Dormant Lord wasn't here, the Conqueror Flame Raider would still be circling above the fortress, firing at defenseless monsters and Phantoms, but luck was clearly not on his side.

Thump.

The massive wing flew off the ground, half sinking into the sand. For normal monsters, it was a feast, one wing containing enough energy to make a few of them move on to the next stage.

Yet, for the Dormant Lord, it was useless trash. He needed energy like all creatures, but he would never use a being despised by him as a vessel of energy.

It was beneath his dignity, his pride, which, unlike the flaming eagle, he was entitled to.