"I knew you were the weakest among us three, but I didn't expect you to be so useless," the Necromancer said with a stern look. His tone was sharp with mockery and disdain, deliberately meant to wound the Flying Serpent's pride, and the gaze with which he looked at it was heavy with disappointment.
The Flying Serpent did not feel humiliated upon hearing the Necromancer's words. There was no reason to feel that way, after all.
'Good,' it thought quietly, feeling like it had won a small battle. 'The greater his disdain for me, the less chance he'll suspect something's wrong. Master will definitely catch him off guard when the times comes. His many trump cards... He won't get the chance to put them to use before he's forced into the maws of death. Lord Necro, your end is nigh. What a pity you will not know that until it's too late.'
The Flying Serpent felt smug. It was acting for the first time, yet it had fooled the greatest master of Dark Arts Veloria had ever known.
