Hearing those words, Bonbon shouted, "Can't I just have that?"
"No."
Auren frowned, 'Essence of what?'
In the other end, Romeov and the beast within him shuddered in a way that could have been called worship.
The Essence of a Primordial Beast—pure, condensed, legendary—was the stuff of song and nightmare. It was the power older empires whispered about and then pretended not to remember.
"Are you referring to the same Primordial Essence the Druka gave to Drakan?" Romeov asked, voice thin with greed and reverence.
"So you've heard of it," Ugha said, smiling with something like approval. Romeov tried to smile back, lips betraying the reach of his ambition.
Auren frowned at the name of Druka and Drakan.
History weighed on him then, heavy and black.
He knew the Banthaya Marshland and Kugaw Wasteland had once been bustling human territories until Drakan descended and turned them into a scarred husk.
