The giant dragons in the grand hall were in a fervor, each vying to condemn and scold the "ungrateful Red Dragon," even if it meant feigning rage.
"Very well."
Tiamat looked around once more, her sharp gaze sweeping over the dragons as she asked lowly, "So... who among you can kill this traitor for me?
Just kill him, and I shall bestow upon you the strength of a demigod, the bloodline of an Ancestral Dragon, and a mountain of gold!"
Tiamat's voice was resonant and powerful as it echoed within the hall, but at this moment, those dragons who had been passionately vocal fell silent as if under a Silence Spell, collectively sinking into a hush.
The terms of strength, bloodline, and riches indeed sounded quite substantial, exceptionally enticing, and under normal circumstances, countless five-colored dragons would surely rush forward.
