While Andesha was distracted with the gemstone, there was a sudden roar that shook the valley. The fog parted and a huge dragon head with open jaws rushed towards her.
“A dragon!?” The Mistress of Wither Decay jumped in fright, but she immediately chanted loudly: “Northern Wind, I command you to conjure a bitter winter!”
She flung out her palm; a blizzard formed on top of her head and blew out a wild storm of frost and hail. Shards of ice were fired like projectiles, striking the surroundings in front of her. The strong wind tossed her hair about and made it dance, but she did not move at all.
It was as though she was a queen who controlled the weather. Snow covered the half the valley in the blink of an eye, turning the ground into a carpet of hard ice. The Lernaia Hydra’s dragon head was forced back as the sharp ice fragments pierced through its body, riddling it with holes.
Andesha felt there was something wrong with the strength of the ‘Dragon’. She pointed at the head with her thumb, chanting:
“Time flows; nature withers. Your scales shall fall from off your body, your muscles will slack and rot, your blood turns dry, your bones be brittle, today is the day when your end is nigh!”
The Lernaia Hydra’s head bellowed. Its white scales turned yellow and fell out, while its muscles and blood were turned into liquid, and rained all over the area before turning back into mist.
In just a few seconds, the gigantic head disappeared.
But before Andesha had the chance to relax, the air was agitated. Mist gathered and the dragon head appeared once more.
Andesha’s brows formed a knot between her eyes.
Brendel had used this opportunity to slip past them while she was facing off the Demonic Nightmare Fog, but he was still struck once by a stray shard of ice on the shoulder, causing him to lose sensation of his entire arm.
Even though the Andesha’s magic did not affect him much with just a thin layer of ice spreading across the injury, it was the physical damage that caused him to grit his teeth.
He ran over a hundred meters before he spotted a crevice in the cliffs and went into it, gasping a little when he stopped. It was as though a knife had been stabbed into his shoulder. His blood seemed like it was being pumped hard to fix the wound, causing him to feel a scorching heat as it fought against the freezing magic.
Faena asked with a little concern in her voice when she saw Brendel’s twisted expression.
“Hey, country bumpkin?”
“What?” Brendel snarled at her.
“You—” Faena wanted to ask if she could do anything to help, but Brendel’s attitude made her angry. She scoffed and her tone was hard: “Nothing at all.”
Still, she asked again in a whisper: “Hey, country bumpkin?”
“What is wrong with your eyes? Lady, do you think I’m free to talk to you?” Brendel snapped at her.
“Huh? Who’s the obnoxious one? You mean c
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