Silence filled the night except for the crackling of fire above. The two Ice Flame Dragons hovered in the air, looking down at the castle grounds below.
It was an incomprehensible sight for mortals and mages alike. Even those not adept in the complexities of the Mystic Arts knew that a spell was something intricately connected to its caster. It was an extension of themselves like another limb.
Yet now, they saw Michael wretch control of the Dragon right under One's nose. It followed Michael's order as if the Dragon had no connection to its original caster in the first place.
No one knew how absurd this was more than Trakius, the 7-star Tower Master.
Seberus' words came crawling back to Trakius. All those hyperbolic descriptions of Michael's talents in the Mystic Arts didn't seem so excessive now given what he just witnessed. In fact, genius wouldn't even begin to describe the mastery it would take to do something that Michael did so easily.
