"Bronze Dragons!" Raszageth's voice was like the roar of a wounded beast, her fresh hatred and old grievances instantly ignited. "Just as expected, you are the lackeys of those hypocritical Aspect Dragons! This human is truly your pawn! Is all of this your conspiracy?!"
Her gaze swept toward Onyxia, and feeling that pure and powerful Black Dragon aura—along with the other female's pressure and sense of power that clearly surpassed an ordinary adult Black Dragon—her vigilance spiked to the absolute limit.
"Another offspring of Neltharion?!" Raszageth's dragon eyes contracted, the electrical arcs around her body once more turning violent yet orderly as she entered combat readiness. "And—so young, yet this strong—?"
Only then did Onyxia shift most of her attention away from Deren, casting her first direct look at the strangely shaped, impressively imposing peculiar dragon opposite her.
A trace of confusion and scrutiny flashed through her golden slit-pupils; the other's aura was ancient and feral, brimming with the pure power of the storm element yet carrying the essence of the dragon race.
Yet she had never seen a dragon of this form in any draconic records or accounts.
"Who are you?" Onyxia asked in a low voice, eyeing her with complete wariness.
Her Dragon Awe remained unreleased, yet it made the surrounding air feel noticeably heavier. "I have never seen a dragon like you."
"Hahaha!" Raszageth let out a poignant and mocking laugh, her laughter filled with endless resentment. "Young Black Dragon, it seems they—have truly scrubbed the history of our existence completely clean! How pathetic!
Do you know nothing of even your own roots and the wars of the past?!"
"Did they not tell you about that tragic civil war known as the War of the Scaleborn, which swept across the homeland of the northern dragon race?!"
"The