Zevran blinks. "…Lower class?"
Mero bursts into a laugh, circling around Alix's head. "Master, with your strength—you could easily build a middle-class force in this continent. This continent is one of the three main continents of the world. Why settle in lower continent?"
Alix walks toward the balcony and pushes the curtains aside. Moonlight washes over his eyes.
He stands at the balcony railing, the city's distant lanterns flickering like stars fallen to earth. His cloak sways gently in the cold night breeze.
"Why settle?" Alix repeats, his tone soft, almost contemplative.
Then his voice hardens—like iron drawn from fire.
"Because I will conquer this world."
Mero freezes mid-spin.
Zevran's eyes widen, instincts flaring—pure draconic instinct roaring to the surface. Conquer the world? Even ancient dragons, beings of pride and greed, would never dare to speak such words so boldly.
But Alix continues, gaze focused far beyond Sona City—beyond this continent.
