Draven's body had been completely taken over by Selene's power, transforming him into a massive dark wolf as huge as a hill.

  Though his form had become strange and terrifying, his consciousness remained clear—every movement was under his own control.

  Hearing Clara's sharp taunt, the wolf's eyes, burning like molten blood, suddenly flared with fury, as if rage was about to erupt from his pupils.

  The next second, he howled toward the sky, and the black flames around him flared violently, as if countless tongues of fire were ravenously licking his fur. The air itself warped from the intense heat.

  Draven had no intention of replying to any words—he couldn't be bothered arguing with such a woman. He remembered clearly: the day the Serpent Ancestor merely touched the black flames, the entire snake was burned to a crisp!

  He was no lord and didn't understand all those fancy magic duels, but he knew one thing very well: if the black flames touched even a bit of the opponent, that opponent was done for.

  The dark wolf suddenly leapt up, charging toward Clara like a black meteor. He abandoned all technique, relying solely on his massive size and the fierce black flames to smash through.

  This style looked like a mad dog's frenzy, but Draven intended to turn the fight into a desperate collision—he wasn't leaving any room to retreat.

  But Clara was not easy to deal with.

  Her rank was higher, her combat experience far more seasoned, and her reflexes extremely fast. She understood the wolf's strategy: it wasn't about hitting accurately but about getting the black flames on her body. Once contact was made, she would be finished.

  Even so, she dared not be careless. She found that although the dark wolf attacked brutally, his power was tremendous and his speed not slow at all. If she slipped up even briefly, she might be forced into a corner.

  Clara felt agitated. She wasn't like Freya, who forced her way to lordship through potions and secret arts. Her strength was built up bit by bit, her magic stable, and her fighting style mature.

  But now, she had to admit, this dark wolf really was worthy of fighting her.

  Once again, skillfully dodging the wolf's charge, Clara twisted and quickly retreated. She created distance, hovered in midair, and began breathing heavily.

  Draven mistook her for trying to flee and was about to give chase. But before he moved, he saw Clara suddenly halt, a chilling smile spreading across her face.

  She said nothing, only slowly raised her hands as if surrendering. But the expression on her face was not one of begging—it was madness, like a person on the brink of collapse, ready to risk everything in a final counterattack.

  "Be careful," Selene's cold voice suddenly echoed in Draven's mind, tightening his chest.

  "Where are you?" he looked around but saw nothing.

  "I'm inside the wolf's body. Don't waste time."

  Draven didn't ask more. He knew now wasn't the time for words. Because Clara's body was starting to change.

  He had thought her jet-black hair was just dyed, but now he saw clearly—she wasn't hiding her identity; she was that rare dark-haired blood elf variant.

  Between her hands suddenly appeared a viscous liquid energy, so black it nearly looked purple, sticky like ink.

  The liquid spun violently in the air, then suddenly splattered down, as if someone had poured a bucket of slick oil over her entire body.

  Her originally fair, smooth skin instantly became completely blackened. She looked like a demon rising from the depths of hell.

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  "What the hell is this…" Draven barely had time to comment.

  "Attack now! Don't let her complete the transformation!" Selene's voice rang urgently in his mind again.

  No more words were needed. Draven moved instantly, controlling the huge wolf to charge like a black mountain crashing down.

  If this woman didn't dodge, he'd crush her with a single paw today!

  The towering wolf leapt through the air, arriving before Clara in an instant. He spread his claws and swung them down fiercely—the claws sliced through the air like blades, black flames dancing wildly between his fingers.

  This time, he felt it—actual contact! A solid hit!

  "She's done for!" Draven rejoiced, waiting to see her burn clean in the black flames.

  But the next second, his smile froze.

  A sudden sharp pain shot through his paw, as if it had been bitten hard. Then, an overwhelmingly violent force erupted explosively from Clara's body.

  Before he could react, the entire wolf felt as if it had been struck by a giant hammer, losing control and flying backwards, crashing heavily to the ground!

  "Shit…" A chill ran down his spine. How was this possible?

  He struggled to roll over and stabilize himself. Just as he stopped falling and before he could see what was happening, a sharp whooshing sound pierced his ear.

  Draven barely saw it and instinctively dodged backward—the dark shadow whistled past his wolf back!

  A black beam of light brushed past the dark wolf's front paw. In that instant, Draven felt a chill sweep through his entire body, as if some unknown force had locked onto him.

  He had never sensed such intense malice before—like hundreds of dead souls screaming, cursing, and moaning all at once in his ears.

  "What the hell is this thing…" he muttered under his breath.

  The black beam howled past and exploded on the ground, spreading a nauseating black mist. The fog writhed and twisted as if alive, and within it came the agonized screams of the subhuman soldiers. Some hadn't escaped in time and were swallowed by the black mist, their cries of pain tightening Draven's chest.

  "Draven, hurry! Don't let her destroy the city!"

  Selene's voice sounded in his mind, unusually tense. Draven clenched his teeth hard, a nameless fury rising in his heart.

  "Watch me tear you apart, black skin!" he roared, unable to contain his rage. His voice echoed through the air, filled with genuine hatred.

  Clara halted midair, the transformation on her body now complete. Her skin had turned pitch-black and smooth, as if she were a monster crawled out of a barrel of machine oil.

  The noble, cold elegance of the blood elf was completely gone, replaced by a disturbing presence.

  Hearing the insult"black skin," her face twisted. The mocking confidence vanished in an instant, replaced by murderous intent shining in her eyes.

  "What do you know?"

  Her voice dropped low, thick with suppressed anger, as if Draven's words had struck her most sensitive spot.

  "I don't need to know." Draven snarled, commanding the dark wolf forward with a single thought: kill her.

  This time he didn't hesitate. The dark wolf leapt up, claws aiming straight for Clara's face.

  But Clara didn't dodge. She raised her hands, weaponless. Clenching her fists, which gleamed black as if charged with some extremely dangerous energy.

  She lightly punched the wolf's front paw. The movement was minimal, almost careless—but the next second, a tremendous force launched the wolf's entire body flying!

  "Damn!" Draven cursed as the dark wolf flipped three times midair before barely stabilizing, landing with a heavy crater.

  A stabbing pain shot through his right paw, his palm blackened as if burned. Looking down, his eyes filled with shock.

  "This isn't right…" He gritted his teeth, his expression more serious than ever.

  That punch wasn't just powerful—it pierced straight through the black flames' protection.

  The black flames were his trump card, his pride, a magical fire that even the Serpent Ancestor found hard to resist.

  Yet Clara's fist completely ignored the black flames and punched right through them!

  "What do I do?" he whispered.

  Selene's voice immediately replied:"Don't speak out loud. Just think it quietly in your mind. She's not in good shape either."

  Draven steadied himself, forcing down the pain. He observed Clara again. Her breathing was somewhat erratic, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

  Though she acted strong, her body betrayed her weakness.

  "So that's it…" A slight smirk curled the dark wolf's lips.

  Suddenly, he turned around and stopped attacking, instead sprinting wildly away. He wasn't scared—he was betting that this strange black skin state wouldn't last long!

  And he was right.

  Clara's expression grew increasingly strained. She knew her situation perfectly well: this black skin state was a temporary power granted by Zora's divine blood. Her body was bearing the burden of that divine blood, burning itself away every second.

  If the fight couldn't be ended soon, once the divine blood's effect ended, she would lose all her power and be so weak she wouldn't even stand a chance against ordinary soldiers!

  Watching the wolf retreat, Clara's mouth twitched with frustration and hesitation.

  She knew exactly what to do. Reason told her to retreat now and find a safe place to recover.

  But her pride, her arrogance, and the phrase"black skin must die" stabbed fiercely at her heart.

  "Damn bastard…" she gritted her teeth and suddenly moved.

  The next second, Clara became a shadow and vanished from where she stood. She wouldn't let Draven escape—not for anything!

  Several black lights streaked across the sky with her movement, shooting forward like arrows, aiming directly at the dark wolf's back!

  The battle wasn't over. She chose to pursue!