Fafnir stared at the two as if he were facing the worst nightmare a millennia-old dragon could imagine: the devastating combination of shame, ancient humiliation, and a demonic couple with zero patience for draconic pride.
The roar he let out next didn't come from his throat—it came from his soul.
Low, deep, laden with an ancient hatred that could melt continents.
"YOU… YOU TWO…!"
But that was all he could manage to articulate.
Vergil crossed his arms, looking at the dragon with the same expression one would have when watching a petulant child being forced to do their homework.
Sapphire merely clicked her tongue.
"Fafnir, just go. You know you must."
The dragon snorted so hard that the hot wind pushed Vergil two steps back.
The ground trembled.
The magma behind him rose as if fleeing from draconic anger.
"YOU ARE INSUFFERABLE—" he began, but another sharp look from Sapphire cut him off mid-sentence.
"Fafnir."
Three syllables.
Pure authority.
