The Dragon King couldn't help but feel arrogant.
Three hundred years of experience. Thousands of matches. Grandmasters from a dozen realms who had walked away humbled.
And now a human boy, barely more than a child, who had probably never even seen a Dragon's Mountain board before tonight.
Vorathor couldn't help but glance at the women gathered around the room.
His wife, who hadn't looked at him with warmth in decades. His daughter, who was currently glaring at him like he was an inconvenience she had to tolerate. The Battle Angel daughters, who treated him like furniture.
Even the human girl who hadn't spared him a single glance.
But they were all watching now and soon they would see exactly who was worthy of their attention.
'I'll play with him a little.' Vorathar thought, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 'Give him just enough hope to think he has a chance. And then—'
