Draktharion felt uncomfortable.
'Hm?'
Atticus didn't feel human. No, at this moment, he didn't feel like a being with any emotions at all.
Draktharion felt as though he were being stared at by something far colder—a machine.
It was as if he was no longer facing a man, but a program filled with nothing but calculations, running countless scenarios, dissecting every move before it even happened.
There was no fear, no hesitation, no anger—just cold, ruthless intent.
Draktharion frowned. He didn't like this. In his past life, just like this one, he had been a dragon. A being who was the overlord of his world.
But now, being stared at by this boy, he felt small. He couldn't accept that. He wouldn't.
Suddenly, the world seemed to pause. The air grew thick, suffocating. The sound of lava flowing in the distance faded as the tension between them reached a breaking point.
