Doran stood on the front deck. He placed the flute made of demon beast bones on his lips but never blew it. His behavior annoyed the soldiers; even Neville, who rarely spoke, questioned Doran's seriousness.
"What are you doing?" Neville pushed Doran's back using his sword sheath. "The golden dragon will probably swim farther away if you don't call him now."
Doran clicked his tongue. He sighed roughly, saying, "Please understand me. Catching the golden dragon is not as easy as catching a fish."
Liviana laughed. "So, are you afraid? Are you afraid you'll be eaten alive by the golden dragon when it appears before you?"
Doran wanted to deny Liviana's accusation, but the truth was that he was terrified of facing the golden dragon. Unlike the demon beasts he usually met, the golden dragon was a demon beast equivalent to a celestial beast.
If he was careless, he might become the golden dragon's meal.
