Several miles away from Lochras, Silas floated mid-air, his aura expanding into every inch and crevis of the world around, him as if his mana alone was capable of warping reality to the naked eye.

His once rampaging blood lust had quietened down under Silas' control. There was no feeling of terror and grief when one looked at him, nor was there an everpresent sense of dread that crushed the souls of everything that stood before him. After all, to the naked that could not resist his blood lust, he no longer looked like a multi-armed wretched monster covered in eyes. No…

Now, his figure was like a specter, both present and untouchable, an enigma that defied the natural laws. He was suspended in the air as if gravity dared not assert its claim upon him. His white hair, now a halo in the dimming light, gave him an otherworldly appearance, a seraph of destruction watching the quietus of the day. 

Then, as the skies bled the last of their light, a new figure emerged from the distance, its powerful wingbeats a rhythmic counter to the stillness that had befallen the land. Is gargantuan figure blurred through the skies, yet Silas could see it all the same. The wyvern, with scales that held the deep hue of sapphire, soared towards Silas, its core radiating an intense energy that suggested a vitality unmarred by the violence that had unfolded.

 His eyes were locked upon the figure in the distance that was flapping its membranous wing. It seemed to have seen him as well since it had dramatically lowered its speed after reaching a certain distance.

And after a while, it reached much closer, its figure having settled on the ground before it stretched its neck to look up.

"You know, I thought you would continue to fly while we talked. I heard dragons were prideful creatures, so think that one of you would look up at me like that…" Silas couldn't help but snicker under his breath, but that did not agitate the wyvern. Its aqua-blue eyes continued to stare at Silas before it opened its maw and spoke…

"What's the point of having such pride in front of an insect? Would an insect feel less scared of you just because it had higher ground? Would you feel less significant than it if you saw it above you?" The wyvern asked its voice deep and tremor-inducing. Rock on the ground shook rapidly, tapping against the ground as they jumped up and down, creating a rhythm close to that of the wyvern's voice.

Silas didn't know how it spoke since it didn't seem to have the facial structure to use human language, but after a second thought, he just assumed that it had something to do with the glowing thing inside its body.

Of course, since the creature before him was a wyvern, seeing anything more complex than a "glowing shiny thing" was close to impossible at his current core grade. Sure, he might be able to contend with someone like Ivy and easily win due to how bad she was at using magic, especially at her level. However, this did not mean he didn't fall under the conditional drawbacks of only being a pristine amethyst core at the edge of becoming and sapphire core.

His eyes would need an upgrade for him to see anything past the wyvern's mana-filled scales that essentially blinded Silas from seeing anything past them even after using a significant amount of mana to power his eyes. The problem of not being able to see past the scales was not a problem of power, but rather, a problem of complexity. Powering his eyes more would only make the scales look more complex while also shining brighter in his vision, therefore not allowing him to see past them. Doing the opposite would simply not allow him to see deep enough into the body to understand what was happening.

However, even with such problems on hand, Silas could still tell how strong the creature before him was. It was a wyvern, after all, so he shouldn't have been surprised that it was so much stronger than its core might imply. After all, even that weakling of a giant was able to surpass its core grade and compete with the other sapphire cores in strength during that massacre.

Suddenly, while looking down at the wyvern, Silas couldn't help but allow a large smile to grace his face.

"Big words for a half dragon." 

"You think you can anger me with your words?" The dragon scoffed.

"I thought I could… I guess not." Silas shrugged.

"Now, if you'll kindly move out of the way, I'll think of sparing you. I have a job to do, after all." The wyvern spoke again, its voice booming through the vicinity with enough power to cause the air to visibly ripple.

"To think a might lesser-dragon would choose to join humans for such a flimsy cause." Silas sighed with what seemed to be disappointment. "What do you guys call yourselves. The Liberationists? The Liberation army? Hm, doesn't sound right." Silas stroked his chin in thought.

"You know of us?" The Wyvern asked with a tinge of curiosity.

"Well, technically, yes. Though, you're not gonna be all that important to the kingdoms until you decide to attack that tournament they've chosen to have. Still, I can't believe you're slaughtering children for such a flimsy cause." Silas laughed.

"Flimsy, you say?" The wyvern muttered before turning its head toward a specific direction. Then, for a few moments, silence descended. Neither Silas nor the wyvern spoke, but every second it continued, the tension seemed to get thicker… Stronger. 

'Oh wait. That's not tension.' Silas looked at the wyven with a smirk.

'That's his aura.'

"When I felt my comrades die, I first thought that they had been killed by that general from the Xylem army. It didn't make sense to me since I was certain he wouldn't be able to kill them so quickly, nor create such a dense form of bloodlust…" The wyvern paused and turned toward Silas, its pupils not constricted as rage burned deep inside.

"And then I saw you… A man who gave off no magic, but is capable of floating mid air without maintaining a magic circle. How strange. I don't remember my master warning us of someone like you." The wyvern heaved out something that sounded like a sigh.

The moment hung between them, charged with the potential of violence, yet neither moved to strike. It was as if they both understood that moving an inch would spark a battle that would leave its scars throughout the entire forest.

"Why do you side with these people?" Silas finally asked his voice and tone hard to discern. However, there was a sense of genuine curiosity, if not one of slight pity. He spoke to the wyvern as if it was a victim rather than a killer. "I'm sure you're not in love with the idea of being chained by some human," Silas asked, his words leaving behind an underlying question that he was certain that the wyvern had noticed.

After all, despite what many might say, the wyvern before Silas was intelligent, far more intelligent than many of the humans that Silas had met in the past.

The wyvern's gaze did not waver. "Chains are a matter of perspective," it began, its tone measured. "To ally oneself for a cause is to choose one's shackles. I chose mine with the vision of a future where my kin need not hide from the greed of humans or cower from the wrath of mages."

At these words, Silas could not help but raise a brow. He hadn't heard of wyverns being enslaved by humans from anyone. Such a thing would have been something he would expect to hear being mentioned at least once. However, the chance of it being done in secret was always there, so Silas didn't question the creature's words.

Silas nodded, his expression contemplative. "A noble cause, indeed. But what of those who stand against you? Those who fall by your hand or mine—do they not deserve a future as well?" Silas asked, his tone and words cryptic as if he was trying to say something under all the blabber that was going around.

The wyvern's aura flared, the ground trembling faintly beneath them. "Not all seeds grow into trees, human child. Some are destined to wither so that others may reach for the skies." The wyvern spoke in the same tone, its words also cryptic.

"Ah, the cruel pragmatism of nature," Silas said, slowly and more accurately replicating the way of speaking that the dragon had used throughout their conversation. He looked away from the wyvern for a moment, as if lost in thought, then locked eyes with it once more. "But let's not dwell on philosophy. You've asked me to move, and yet here I am, wondering if you truly have the might to make me."

If anyone else was there to hear their conversation, they would have not understood a single word… But Silas and the Wyvern understood one another. Like old friends meeting again for a conversation between like-minded thinkers.

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