The draconic man almost couldn't believe his own ears. Another boy who could speak the spiritual tongue stood before him, but it wasn't just that. It was the weight the words held, the tone of voice, how cold and ruthless it was. There was only one person he knew who carried such a powerful voice, and that was the Queen of Spirits, Priscilla.
"Y-Your majesty?" The draconic man felt a chill run throughout his body as he questioned verbally if that was who it was. His entire body, mind, and core knew, but it was like he wanted to verify for himself. Dragons were prideful, strong creatures who generally feared nothing aside from their own kin at times.
However, the Queen of Spirits was always someone who stood above them. Someone who they dared to never challenge, for if they ever did, their entire existence would be no more. Many have tried, and all have failed. It had always been passed down to other dragonkin the Queen of Spirits' strength.
