High above, in the golden barrier, the battle was fiercer than ever.
Inside that sealed-off space lay a mysterious void. Elven King Anasterian had transformed into a giant golden sword, clashing relentlessly with White Dragon Frostsire's will projection in midair.
"Whelp, even if you wield the sacred sword of the Elves, you still can't defeat me!"
"The gap between a lord and an arch lord is an unbridgeable chasm—you won't cross it with just one sword."
Roar!
White Dragon Frostsire's hiss echoed across the void, pounding into Anasterian's ears and radiating oppressive force. At the same time, the great white dragon reached out a set of razor-sharp claws, capturing the soaring sword in one iron grip.
In the next moment, Frostsire bared his fangs and chomped down savagely.
Crunch!
Under the horrifying pressure of that bite, cracks began to form along the sword that was King Anasterian.
"When I roamed this continent freely, the Blood Elves were mere vassals to the dragons!"
