A little time had passed since Bolas's outburst.
By then, the misunderstanding had already been cleared up.
Although judging by the way Bolas continued staring at the pair folded behind his back, the drakes' anger still hadn't subsided.
And even after understanding what actually happened, Noah couldn't deny that the drake had a reason to be upset with him.
Noah looked toward Bolas with a trace of pity in his eyes. He understood the drake well enough to know that the wings had meant far more to him than another ability.
Bolas had spent most of his life without them. Decades of his life had been spent feeling inferior without them.
Then Noah had finally given him the ability to fly. Only to unintentionally take it away again.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, Noah now stood in front of him with a pair of authentic draconic wings of his own.
Even unintentionally, Bolas felt insulted; every twitch of Noah's wings felt as though Noah was gloating that he had taken his away.
