As the battle raged, the storm overhead grew more intense, twisting and churning with energy from the clash between James and Zarathros. James's focus was unwavering, his dragon powers at their peak as he poured his strength into each strike. But Zarathros was a force of ancient, dark magic, ruthless, relentless, and as much a master of this chaos as James was a force of hope.
James soared upward, his wings pulsing with radiant blue energy, each beat sending waves of light across the darkened battlefield below. Zarathros followed, his massive, demonic form trailing tendrils of darkness that cut through the air like sharp blades. The two dragons locked eyes mid-flight, each seeing in the other the embodiment of their purpose. For James, it was protection; for Zarathros, it was domination.