The sound of Peko's teacup clicking softly against its saucer remained confined to the continuous, razor-thin current of wind that swirled precisely around the edges of their circular table, actively bending the ambient sound waves to ensure their conversation remained absolutely private.
It was a flawless, invisible barrier of Magecraft maintained by Peko without a single ounce of visible effort.
Outside that invisible barrier, the upscale café was completely packed to the brim, yet a suffocating, highly tense silence dominated the room.
Every single eye in the establishment was magnetically drawn to their table.
Half the patrons were practically vibrating with sheer, primal terror as they stared at the seven-foot-two Greater Dragon, who sat happily humming to herself while she aggressively demolished a three-tiered platter of tarts.
