"Hurt that time, didn't it?" He asked.
It was clear that some damage was dealt to the sturdy hide of the entity this time as marks were laid on its flesh, yet it remained stalwart, facing him as changes to its shape took form again.
A chaotic evolution spawned from the centaur; crossbows of varying shapes protruding from its flesh, locked-and-loaded, primed for the Dragonheart. They stretched out in a black, metallic material that was evidently the bones of War.
"--I'm getting real sick of your kind always changing shape. Insecure much?!" He yelled out.
All at once, the dozen crossbows fired off with enhanced velocity, shooting rapidly towards the scale-clad young man. To deal with the majority of the arrows, he stomped down, invoking a terraforming spell; walls of stone rose from the ground to his left-and-right, deflecting a majority of the arrows.