The war had begun.
Foster and his dragon soared through the skies like a comet of fire and light. Their fused auras lit up the night like a second sun, a tide of golden and emerald radiance cleaving the air with an unearthly hiss. Below, the elves looked on, silent, amazed, witnessing the birth of a legend.
But opposite, Joker, still levitating in the air, had lost none of his assurance.
- Voilàààà..." he shouted with a hoarse laugh. I've been waiting for you, Foster! Come and show me what you're made of when you fly!
With a flap of its wings, the dragon swooped down on him, and Foster raised his katana, which flickered with pure flame, his grimoire vibrating at his side.
The first collision shook the sky.
Foster leapt into the air, propelled by his companion's power, and unleashed a salvo of [World Tree Roots] modified by the dragon's magic. The magical tendrils, fiery and vivid, shot out in all directions, seeking to pierce Joker.
But Joker... danced.
