Amon slowly walked to Fenrir's side, his gaze falling on the latter half of his body. It was still skeletal in form, the massive spine gradually petrifying from front to back until it connected with the stone wall.
Like a legendary undead creature, half of him displayed the semblance of life, half the semblance of death. Life and death merged ingeniously into one, seeming to carry some mysterious religious significance.
His fingers lightly touched the point where the dragon's body joined the stone wall.
"Being trapped here isn't a solution in the long run. If enemies really attack, you won't even have a way to retreat. Tell me, how can I restore your freedom?"
Fenrir froze. Seeing the sweat beading on Amon's forehead as he roasted the whole lamb for him earlier, he had already pushed down the thought of asking for help. His appetite was simply too enormous; he did not want to make things difficult for his brother.
"It might be troublesome..." The giant dragon lowered his eyelids, his voice growing softer and softer. "It's okay. I can drive the bad guys away."
Amon looked up at him, his gaze resolute. "What are the conditions?"
He knew Fenrir had the ability to forcibly break free from his restraints himself, but doing so might damage his body. Making up for that damage could require an even greater price, perhaps even another cocooning.
Fenrir hesitantly shifted his wings, scratching messy marks across the stone floor. After a long while, he finally said softly:
"I need a lot of food... a very, very large amount."
The way he carefully said it was like confessing a secret that should never have been voiced.
Amon raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
When Fenrir nodded solemnly, Amon let out an imperceptible sigh of relief. He