At this moment, in the castle not far away, Henrik and the others had just recovered from Hillrenes' transformation.
Even though it was battered and bruised, looking utterly disheveled, there was no doubt about it—this was a real dragon.
"I thought it was some special ritual of the Dragonkin, stripping down before the fight starts," Henrik sneered.
A deep disappointment flickered in his gaze.
"What a pity, all that light covered everything—nothing to see," he muttered under his breath.
Amanda, however, wore a solemn expression. At the time of her own ascension, there had also been traces of dragons appearing in her memories.
But upon careful reflection, none of the dragons in her recollections could compare to the one before her now.
No matter how battered this one appeared.
Roger adopted an act of attentive listening, clearly unimpressed by the information Hillrenes had provided thus far.
