Myrine Archon's breath had caught in her throat at the moment the figure announced himself.
Her tactical mind, which had spent centuries developing frameworks for understanding power and dominance, was struggling to process what it was witnessing.
A single human announcing his intention to destroy an entire dragon force composed of thousands of creatures that had been refined through military discipline to operate as a unified organism.
"That's not possible," she whispered, her voice emerging with the halting quality of someone forcing their consciousness to articulate thoughts that resisted formulation. Her hands pressed flat against the table, her knuckles whitening from the pressure.
...
Sariel Nyctelios felt the blood drain from his face.
His hand gripped the edge of the table with enough force to make the aged wood creak in protest. His ancient body went rigid as he heard the name spoken across the scrying mirror.
Ren Ryzard.
