The roar of the Ice Wyvern echoed across the peak—sharp, resonant, a sound that seemed to shake the very air.
But Noel didn't freeze.
He couldn't afford to do it in this situation.
In a swift motion, he reached into his pouch, fingers closing around the first of the sleep grenades. Without hesitation, he hurled it toward the beast.
The orb struck the wyvern's broad chest—too low.
Smoke burst out, curling around its torso, but the effect would take too long to reach its head.
"Shit. I missed."
Noel's hands were already moving.
He pulled two more grenades, eyes narrowed, and threw them in rapid succession—one, then the other. Both arced clean through the air, landing near the wyvern's snout.
The creature inhaled—deep and instinctive.
Its wings unfurled with a sudden, powerful beat.
Not good.
It was trying to take off.
Noel
grabbed the remaining seven grenades and hurled them all in a single, calculated burst—scattering them across the air around the wyvern's head.
