Horace wasted no more time.
He opened his eyes, a mass of flowing golden light already gathered in his hand.
He raised his hand and pushed that golden light toward the Dragon Lord.
"[Thou shalt no longer disappoint thy subjects]."
This was no request, but a "Great Rune."
The golden light sank into the Dragon Lord's battered body. A faint sheen began to appear along the edges of those ashen scales, moisture seemed to return beneath that shriveled flesh, and the edges of those old wounds slowly began to heal.
This was a miracle that turned back time.
The Dragon Lord found it unbelievable. "...This is..."
It felt its strength gradually returning.
"...Thank you."
The Dragon Lord's voice was very low, almost inaudible. Even now, the old dragon retained some of its regal reserve.
Horace did not respond. He simply withdrew his hand and watched the Dragon Lord calmly.
"You still need time to rest. Great Runes aren't all-powerful. Your injuries are too severe. Recovery won't be quick."
The Dragon Lord nodded.
It could already feel that this healing came at a price. That power was both a restraint and a blessing. From now on, it would never disappoint its subjects again.
Because it no longer had the right to be disappointed.
"I promise you... the Ancient Dragons will never betray you."
This was not submission. The Dragon Lord had not called him king or offered the allegiance of dragonkind.
But this carried more weight than submission.
Horace nodded.
He suddenly turned to Froesanks.
"You haven't seen each other in a long time. Catch up."
Froesanks looked at Horace, then at the Dragon Lord, and hesitated for a moment.
"...May I?"
The question was directed at both Horace and the Dragon Lord.
The Dragon Lord did not answer. But its