The moment the wooden dragon's claw struck the ground, the arena began to change.
From the cracks between the arena stones, thin green tendrils slithered up like seeking fingers. Dust scattered as roots erupted from beneath, spiraling outward in complex patterns. The light above dimmed, not because of clouds, but because a canopy was forming—not real trees, but illusions given weight and shape by spiritual force.
The wooden dragon had activated its domain. Not one that belonged to the light dragon itself, but rather one inherited from the Verdara inheritance.
And unlike the Solar Dragon's prior attempt, this one was much more powerful.
Aegis, mid-lunge, staggered. His arm raising to block an incoming blow slowed, the motion dragging unnaturally like he was moving through wet clay. Around him, the field thickened with invisible weight. Even his hardened form let out a low groan of strain from the invisible weight.
