Kangerweian, off to the side, had practically been about to slip away when Leviathan's battle roar, enough to make a dragon's liver tremble, reached him. The entire dragon froze on the spot.
"Tibilus?"
The Black Dragon prince turned his head, staring wide-eyed at the Brass Dragon that had suddenly transformed into a heavy truck and charged Balor, then turned with utter bewilderment toward the Bronze Dragon relentlessly sniping at Balor.
If Kike merely felt that the Brass Dragon seemed strangely familiar, then Kangerweian, being a dragon himself, immediately sensed that those two Metal Dragons had a great deal to do with Tibilus.
And so, driven by a kind of awe he refused to admit to, he no longer dared to leave.
Originally, he could have fled without the slightest psychological burden. More precisely, trying to judge and restrain a chaotic evil species like Black Dragons by the moral standards of the lawful factions was itself a laughable notion.
Kangerweian had always thought this wandering Master had been sent by Tibilus to straighten him out.
And given his familiarity with Drow wanderers, he could tell at a glance that Master Kike's martial techniques and swordsmanship were simply not meant for ordinary people to practice. Ordinary bodies did not possess that kind of flexibility—much less his draconic body.
Call him a fraud, and yet the occasional tricks he displayed were remarkably sharp. Call him formidable, and Kangerweian would say he could swat him to death with one claw—provided he could land the hit, of course.
Perhaps the only thing Kangerweian felt he had truly benefited from was the "Wanderer's Creed," or rather, the "Assassin's Creed," taught by this teacher. It had indeed gradually transformed him from a gifted wanderer who only knew how to rely on his weak presence into a professional