The moment the aura pressed down on him fully, Max felt a deep tremor ripple through his body and soul, as though something ancient had turned its gaze upon him. His breathing remained steady, yet his heart thumped once with heavy force as recognition struck him.
'This is the aura and the pressure of the Black Dragon,' Max said silently, his thoughts sharpening.
He had felt something similar before.
His mind was pulled back to Obsidian Dragon City and the Nine Dragons Painting, to that vast painted world where he had come face to face with a true Black Dragon.
Back then, the pressure had been overwhelming, primal, and domineering, a presence that demanded reverence and fear from every living being that stood before it. That aura had been etched into his memory so deeply that he could never mistake it for anything else.
Yet the feeling washing over him now was different.
Similar in nature, but far heavier.
