The ink traces hanging in midair—the pair of pitch-black dragon eyes suddenly blinked.
The next moment, a streak of gold, like the finishing touch that brought a painting to life, fell into its lifeless eye sockets. The demonic dragon, which had been nothing more than ink-wash lines, immediately became vivid.
Roar—
The dragon's roar shook the heavens.
The giant dragon sketched in ink broke free from the constraints of the flat surface. Details rapidly filled its illusory body: jagged bony spines covered its chest and belly, while four winding dragon horns atop its head pointed diagonally at the sky. It was a perfect recreation of the demonic dragon Drogon from the world of Winter and Summer Song.
Drogon was not especially large, only twenty meters long. According to the timeline of the Winter and Summer Song novels, it had only just outgrown the stage of a juvenile dragon by the end.
Not to mention Ladon—even the two female dragons at Ladon's side far surpassed it.
But the strength of Prajna's summons had little to do with their established settings.
Three years ago, perhaps because she had answered Lothar's request and stuffed in too much private content to promote the luxury goods from her own workshop, the Winter and Summer Song series personally polished by Prajna had consistently sold somewhat worse than The Witcher series.
Dragons were savage beasts, and among the many savage beasts—manticore, ghoul, cave troll, and the like—they were among the fiercest. Any medium dragon breed already lay beyond the ability of ordinary people to hunt.
Once they ran rampant, they posed a far greater threat to humanity than werewolves or vampires ever could.
Other than madmen such as the dragon-worshipping cultists, almost no one liked such monsters.
But after Lothar repeatedly rode demonic dragons into battle and