After sinking the last of the tall-masted ships, Valerian was in a very happy mood, his expression filled with pride.
Heh, as expected of me, the Great Valerian!
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed and he felt an impending sense of danger. Trusting his draconic instincts, he retreated his wings back inside his shoulder blades and rolled mid-air.
As soon as he did, several poison-coated daggers brushed past his feline body, missing him by a hair's breadth.
Valerian's heart was gripped by panic and he hurriedly looked in the direction of the port—where the daggers were thrown from.
There, he saw five Magi dressed in black robes, radiating mana signatures far stronger than him.
"Oh no!" He blurted out in horror when he saw them throw a dozen more daggers towards him.
He was falling in mid-air and had already retracted his wings inside his body. The daggers were aimed with such accuracy that they were sure to pierce him as he fell from the skies.
