I stand there, my breathing still a little uneven after what I've just done.
The air around me still trembles faintly from the crushing aura I unleashed. The elven counselors and warriors stare at me—some still shaking, others barely managing to rise after collapsing under the pressure.
But my eyes are fixed on her: the Matron. Seated on her carved throne, she hasn't moved a muscle. Not a tremor, not a bead of sweat. Nothing.
She watches me, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.
She resisted. Completely.
This woman radiates a strength I've never seen before. If she can withstand my aura without flinching, then the dragon king… he must be terrifying. Far more than I imagined.
A small voice in my head whispers: If she fears him, what does that say about our mission? But I push the thought away. No time to doubt now.
I released that aura to show them my resolve, to prove I'm not just some human kid spouting empty words. And it worked… or at least, I think it did.
