The black dragon muttered despondently.
"It appears I will lose a follower..."
It closed its eyes.
"I am sorry, Noctis..."
The black head's dragon gradually disintegrated into a black mist.
"But you simply chose someone far too terrifying as your opponent."
After just a couple of seconds, the only thing left from the dragon's body was black mist. Like a whirlpool, it violently gathered towards Hex's black and wrinkly hand.
Despite the large amount of black mist, it all disappeared as though Hex's hand was a black hole.
Hex giggled.
"All the same..."
In the middle of the city, at a luxurious watchtower, someone watched this scene unfold.
It was an old man. He was sitting in a well polished wooden chair. One of his eyes was closed while the other was open all the way. He had short grey hair and a modest beard. While his hair made his old age clear, there wasn't a single wrinkle on his face.
