Damon stood at the edge of his tower, hands resting lightly on the cold stone railing as he watched the city below convulse in battle. A strange nostalgia stirred in his chest.
He was powerful now. Truly powerful.
Yet still not powerful enough.
He mattered… but not enough to change the world.
When he had been weak, a great dragon had been a calamity. Now, at his fourth class advancement, a great dragon was still a calamity.
A loose, stray blast of magic veered toward the tower. The defensive runes flared to life with a sharp hum and swallowed the attack without a ripple.
Blood dyed the streets. Corpses of monsters carpeted the ground.
Damon watched with a languid expression.
"Aren't you being too arrogant?" Renata asked, her hands resting on the railing as she looked down at the chaos.
