"You treacherous spawn of serpentine dragons!"
Daloré roared, his fury burning like wildfire. His health was down to less than 60 million, and after channeling the Forbidden Curse into the scroll, his mana pool was empty.
Now, of all times, this wretched mockery of dragonkind dared to challenge him to a duel?
"You loathe my kin, yet you invoked the names of my ancestors to power your curse. Who's the real hypocrite here? If we're talking disgrace, no race compares to dragons."
Crimson Lizard King sneered, her voice sharp as ice.
"Nice one! Great comeback."
Orson gave a thumbs-up from the sidelines, grinning.
This version of Crimson Lizard King had gotten sharp—fast. Her verbal skills were just as sharp as her blade. A true mouthpiece!
With a guttural growl, she raised her bone sword and brought it crashing down.
BANG!
