Rhys stared at the other berserker before him, and that's what it was. Seeing fury like this shocked him for a stunned moment. That had been him, a few times.

That would be him again, someday.

He was thankful today wasn't that day, still having enough of his awareness to hear Alison calling to him. It's the kind of name that was shouted during a dungeon run. This was not a boss Rhys had ever encountered. Figured he'd have to pick a class himself before he got the chance to fight something of this caliber.

With the dragon breathing its ice up at the ceiling, it left an opening under its ribcage. Rhys slid under it and leapt into an upper cut under the spine, right at the shoulder blades as Alison commanded. The force sent a tremor through the dragon's skeleton, and a few of its ribs fell free and clattered onto the ground around Rhys. That was definitely the weak spot.

Unfortunately, it put Rhys at the heart of the dark magic that held the lich dragon together and he landed in a pained crouch, forced to roll away before one of the ribs landed on him.

The dragon thrashed in a newfound rage, swiping with its claws and tail-- the latter of which snapped off and tumbled into a table of Greek cuisine.