The Dragon Kind powerhouse was residing in the eastern city, secluded within a sprawling private estate that swallowed nearly half the hillside.
Even from a distance, the place radiated menace. Heavy wards shimmered faintly in the night air, layered atop reinforced barriers so dense they pressed against the senses. The unmistakable pressure of a Rank 10 presence lingered like a storm cloud—silent, oppressive, and waiting.
Jasper stood before the towering iron gates and lifted his hand.
Knock.Knock.Knock.
The sound echoed far too loudly in the stillness.
A moment passed. Then another.
Finally, an irritated voice barked from somewhere deep within the estate, rough as gravel and thick with sleep-fogged displeasure.
"Who in the void is pounding on my gate in the middle of the night?" the voice roared. "Have you lost your damn mind?"
