"Haha. I thought you'd have gotten smarter by now."
The old mage mocked them freely, earning a smack across the shin with the flat of a sword.
A guard said to his companion, "Those Golden Lions who arrived tonight make me uneasy..."
"But the captain said the black-haired boy is the King of the North... They wouldn't bring him here to attack us."
"You're right, but I still have a bad feeling..."
"Then let's tell the captain. I'll go with you."
The two guards left the tent, their footsteps fading away. "So, what do you know?" a whisper sounded from empty space.
"I know everything. For instance, you slaughtered your own people."
"Is that true?"
Annan's outline appeared inside the tent. The old mage studied him. "You're the King of the North?"
"Please answer my question first." Annan looked at him intently. "How can you prove what you said?"
"I saw it myself. They slaughtered Ghost Town, then attacked several villages along the way..." The old mage chuckled. He was clearly exhausted, yet excitement still burned in him. "Locking me up was the stupidest thing they could have done."
"They're coming back. Get word to your men, King of the North... Don't disappoint me."
"No need for that."
Annan heard footsteps. He turned toward the tent entrance and asked the two guards who came in, their faces registering shock, "Why is there a prisoner here?"
"He's leaked the information!"
The guards shouted and drew their swords as they lunged at Annan, snuffing out their last chance.
Annan lowered his eyes in disappointment. An oval Spatial Rift appeared before him, and a dragon claw reached through, swatting the two guards away like balls of crumpled paper.
The tent tore apart, and a fearsome dragon roar echoed over the forest.
At the