Flames flickered above the warship's platform. Faerlina was trapped in the inferno, her Ice Block gradually cracking.
The defensive spell had drained much of her energy, yet the black dragon's fire showed no sign of stopping. Katrana had no intention of letting her live.
"Stop, please! Don't burn me to death. I can help you cultivate poisonous creatures. I'm still human, not undead. I'm different from those monsters!" A trace of seductive charm lingered in Faerlina's hoarse voice. Though she was an older beauty, she still retained her allure. Magic maintained her figure and skin, leaving her no less attractive than a young woman.
Katrana glanced at Rowan and said coldly, "I'll listen to you. You decide."
Rather than taking over, Katrana asked for Rowan's opinion.
Rowan gazed coldly at the Necromancer amid the flames and said calmly, "A human Mage who devoted herself to the Scourge-can we really expect her to have a change of heart?"
"I don't know about a change of heart, but she's attractive, and she understands those particular needs you men have." Katrana still held a prejudice against Rowan. This fellow acted like a gentleman, but underneath, he was still a lecher.
Otherwise, Ilucia, president of the Barov Merchants' Guild, and Lucille, heir to House Vikress, would not have such ambiguous relationships with him.
Men were creatures who always coveted more, even when they already had plenty. Any claim that they did not love beautiful women was an act.
"What are you trying to say? What's wrong with young women? Of course, I'm not discriminating against mature women. I'm simply not interested."
Katrana rolled her eyes at Rowan and intensified the flames until only a thin layer of ash remained on the platform.
"I've dealt with your problem. Remember, I did you a huge favor.