Behind him, Roman summoned his own mount—a Ghost Wyvern, an undead-type creature wreathed in cold mist and flickering with eerie blue flames. Its wings stretched wide, bones reinforced with dark metal, and its eyes glowed with spectral fire.
Milim, grinning as always, whistled sharply. A crimson Blood Wyvern emerged from a swirling portal, its scales slick and dark like liquid rubies. Its roar echoed across the sky, shaking nearby clouds with sheer raw aggression.
Liliana and Naval followed suit. From twin pulses of light came their shared mount—a Glass Wyvern, a sleek, elegant creature with semi-transparent scales that shimmered like crystal in the sunlight. It moved with a graceful silence, each wingbeat light and precise.
In the Tower, wyverns were more than just mounts—they were lifelines.
