The Undead King reappeared before Alex, his expression unreadable, though the faintest trace of amusement lingered.
"Well?" Alex asked, his arms still crossed, his tone calm but expectant.
The Undead King's grin widened, his hollow eyes flickering mischievously.
"As I suspected, your dragon is in worse shape than he lets on. He's lying there like a wounded beast, blood seeping from that grotesque hole in his wing. It's a wonder he's still alive."
"And?" Alex pressed, his patience wearing thin. "What did he say?"
"Oh, the usual stuff," the Undead King replied with a dismissive wave. "He claims he'll be fine, though I'd wager otherwise.
That wound isn't just a physical injury, it's crippling him. Without that wing fully healed, he's bleeding energy with every breath."
Alex's expression darkened as he absorbed the information.
Alphox's condition was worse than he feared, and the dragon's stubborn pride was only making matters more difficult.
