The acidic breath lingered in the air, a foul mist of corrosion that hissed and sizzled against the arena floor. Vauleth stood at the edge of the blast zone, his nostrils flaring, crimson chest heaving. The fused Verdara-Light dragon staggered back, thick bark melting away from its left flank in globs of darkened pulp. Beneath the wooden plating, tangled vines thrashed violently, scorched and torn.
For the first time in the match, Kain felt hope flare in his chest.
And then it died.
New vines erupted from the wound, weaving together at impossible speed. Glowing golden sap surged through the tendrils, reinforcing and rearmoring the damaged area in seconds. As the last shreds of bark locked into place, the fusion creature exhaled calmly, as if nothing had happened.
Kain's eye twitched.
"Of course," he muttered. "Of course it regenerates."
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