As Vesuvius stood guard, the darkness around the black dragon silhouette didn't just sway—it pulsated, writhing like serpents. He poured more mana into the barrier and domain around him, reinforcing it against the encroaching void.
His voice, laced with pride, sliced through the oppressive silence. "Are you a void walker?"
Even with his caution, his voice brimmed with absolute pride and confidence, not betraying his inner turmoil as he refused to show any sign of weakness that was unfitting of a dragon.
The black silhouette slightly shifted its neck, and Vesuviuse's eyes were trying to discern the truth behind the doppelganger. A hypothesis immediately formed in his mind.
'How should the form of nothingness look? They probably don't even have their form, as they are nothing and are only imitating the existing form around, that's me.'
