The majestic figure of a dragon whose scales were like the midnight sky had grown vague and unclear against the backdrop of a silver moon. It was not because of the darkness of the night, though, or because Seishan's vision had turned hazy from sweat and blood.
It was because the dragon was entirely covered by transparent silhouettes of the glass wasps, who were sinking their stings into his body and tearing his scales away with their razor-sharp mandibles.
The dragon snapped its jaw shut, shattering the body of an especially powerful abomination, and then let out a deafening cry.
The glass bodies of the lesser wasps vibrated, and then exploded, a cloud of sharp shards raining down upon the Lake of Tears.
Diving down, Nightingale opened his maw once more. In the next moment, a devastating sonic blast slammed into the surface of the Mirror Gate, making it ripple.
Seishan could have sworn that a net of thin cracks appeared on the surface of the lake.
