The mythical beast, the flying dragon, emerges from the cracks of legend, its silver‑gray scales glowing with a cold, radiant sheen. Its sharply defined, forged horns pierce the void; the hidden storm brews as its wings fold in unison; and its claws grip the universe with an iron‑tight hold. Every texture is etched with untamed power, and every contour of its posture is a majestic proclamation. When it lets out its roar, the barriers between dimensions tremble before its might. In its realm, only the title “Master” is worthy of the ancient Rowway.