Queen Sharika—or rather, the one who was using her body—did as she promised.
Without missing a beat, she extended her hand forward, as if catching something out of mid-air. The figure at the end of her sight was none other than Divron.
Thump!
The next moment, the old dragon suddenly felt his body weaken, as if struck by a powerful curse, or as if his Dragon Heart had been torn straight out of his chest.
His vision flickered, but he was completely confused. He had no idea why he'd suddenly lost power.
The only explanation he could come up with was the woman staring at him from below, her hand now clutched tight, a thin smile across her lips.
[When this is all over, call for me, new master of my vessel. Whisper my name to the wind, to the powerful sun, and I shall respond.]
The woman spoke in a gentle tone, as if there were no danger left at all.
[I, and the Powerful One, Sekhmet.]
