"Hey, how would you like to become my first tamed beast?"
Grey said, his voice cold yet laced with curiosity.
Morthas didn't react.
The beast's breathing was ragged, its body too weak to move, its energy drained from the relentless battle.
The poison coursing through its veins ensured that even if it could muster the will, its body wouldn't obey.
Grey crouched slightly, observing the lion beast closely.
He wasn't asking out of politeness.
Morthas had no choice.
The thought of making the powerful creature his first tamed beast had solidified in his mind.
Morthas wasn't just any opponent. Its ability to transform into a swarm of flesh-seeking mouth bats was a game-changer in combat.
And its resilience, the way it had endured hit after hit before finally succumbing, made it the perfect ally.
Still, a sliver of doubt nagged at him.
Would taming the lion beast count as a victory in the arena?
