"He's—your younger brother?" she forced out, her voice unbearably hoarse. Fragments of memory suddenly snapped together—Amon had indeed mentioned it before, casually saying that he had a "younger brother" who was very "well-behaved."
That was right. Amon was a dragon. A dragon's younger brother was naturally also a dragon. The logic was flawless.
Yet she had almost never truly associated the word "dragon" with the man before her. His inhuman nature was cleverly concealed beneath a human exterior. Aside from those special abilities, there was not a trace of anything dragon-like in his everyday behavior, to the point that she often forgot Amon was a dragon.
The "younger brother" she had subconsciously imagined was perhaps a quiet, somewhat unusual young man, or someone like Amon—skilled at disguising himself and lurking among humans.
But the "very well-behaved child" Amon had spoken of—
Was actually a classic giant dragon, coiled at the end of the realm of death, its body like a moving mountain range, as though it had stepped straight out of an ancient epic's carved relief!
Ignoring Rigerif's shock, Amon walked forward naturally, raised a hand, and gently patted the enormous head before him, covered in dark bluish-black scales. He moved as though petting a domesticated dog, even though that "head" was the size of a small car.
In a gentle tone, he asked, "Have you been good while I was away, Fenrir?"
"I've always been good!" Fenrir immediately replied. There was even a hint of eager pride in his voice. "I've listened to my sister! I didn't visit any websites she said I wasn't allowed to see—I swiped away any weird livestreams that popped up right away—and I didn't click any of those strange links either!"
He sounded like an elementary school student reciting the rules.
After saying that,