From his vantage point, he watches as fighters rush for the massive crocodile, running headlong into battle with his Lord's fires burning in their eyes. It fills his heart with a rush of pride, for Helovia and especially for the mass of Dragon's Throat denizens that leap into the fray beside him. Everything is hectic, bodies swarming like a stampede, becoming just as dangerous in the process. Their fervor works against them, but Cera can only focus upon the false God beneath him. He lunges, wings shifting and giving him height, hooves hard and poised for the creature's spine and hips. Scales meet the solid bottoms of his hooves, a sharp and slick sensation that contrasted oddly against his nerves, but the blow itself was solid. Cera had little weight to speak of to begin with, but he utilized all of it, all four hooves slamming down upon war-hardened hide. 

War hardened my ass, he snarled inside his mind. This creature was nothing but a slick serpent, hiding away instead of fighting honorably. It had desecrated his Lord's promise, failing to meet the Sun and its followers on the field of battle head on. The monster was no god. It may have powers far greater than any other magic-imbued mortal, but it would fall beneath the weight of the Helovians and their fury just as any other mortal did. How dare you call yourself a god, Cera spat, teeth flickering in the light raining down as fire from above, something wild and hateful on his normally candid and gentle features. 

RANJIRI! Cera's eyes jerked up as Ilaria's voice, tinny from the distance, rang sharply across their bond. She was there, immediately familiar, her aura a burnished red-gold like sunsets and precious metals. His only vision came from Ilaria, random flashes and snippets of normal vision, and he watched with a mix of horror, disgust, and unrelenting pride as his sister stabbed her horn into the monster's eye and ripped it completely free. For a moment he wanted to scream at her to leave, to get out and get to safety, but...at the same time...

The most important realization in that moment, as the crocodile's body skidded out from between his hooves, was that he didn't need to try and ask Ranjiri to get to safety. He was there, fighting, was he not? He would not undermine Ranjiri's talent and fervor in favor of his brotherly instincts. Fight on, little sister. With a proud, quirked grin, he took to the skies once more. Once more he aimed to place his full weight upon the crocodile's lower back, lower him further to the earth and pin his movements for the other fighters if at all possible. Wings held aloft in case he slipped on the hardened scales, but he aimed for the right back leg joint in particular this time, hoping to break something with a second repeating blow. False gods have no place here.