The man's voice broke through the stillness once more—soft, raw.
"We walked a road stained in blood and shadows… and yet, you stood beside me. Even when the world called you a beast. Even when the heavens declared you unholy."
The dragon's eye opened, faintly glowing. Pain shimmered within, but also something deeper—loyalty, trust, love.
"They called you a monster," he said bitterly, "not because you were one… but because you were born on the wrong side of the line."
The dragon gave a slow, tired huff of breath, embers drifting from its nostrils.
"You served the Devil Emperor once," the man continued. "You tore through kingdoms. Burned cities. You were feared… hated. And yet…"
His voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut, as if the memory itself burned too much to bear.
Luca in his thoughts , Devil Emperor, wasn't this around 7000 years ago?
