With Grani bearing him aloft, Rhea'li goes unnoticed. For with two transformed ancients occupying the dragon's attention so wholly, who would pay attention to a small miqo'te borne on the back of a flying horse(?)?
Tapping into his bond with the spirit, drawing strength from his two ancient friends, Rhea'li breaks his limits, as only a true Warrior of Light could. Wings of aether unfurl behind him, the shadow of Bahamut overtaking him.
It is Bahamut's own attack, Teraflare, near as powerful as the one from the primal itself, that pours forth from Rhea'li, tendrils of aether striking the one place that isn't being attacked by Azem or Emet-Selch: Bahamut's back. Scales appear to melt from the assault, aether bleeding out from the new open wounds, the blasts from the primal's mouth noticeably weaker as it tries to shake the two transformed ancients off.
"Finish it!" he shouts down to them, his own wings fading as he takes hold of his floating grimoire.
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Tapping into his bond with the spirit, drawing strength from his two ancient friends, Rhea'li breaks his limits, as only a true Warrior of Light could. Wings of aether unfurl behind him, the shadow of Bahamut overtaking him.
It is Bahamut's own attack, Teraflare, near as powerful as the one from the primal itself, that pours forth from Rhea'li, tendrils of aether striking the one place that isn't being attacked by Azem or Emet-Selch: Bahamut's back. Scales appear to melt from the assault, aether bleeding out from the new open wounds, the blasts from the primal's mouth noticeably weaker as it tries to shake the two transformed ancients off.
"Finish it!" he shouts down to them, his own wings fading as he takes hold of his floating grimoire.