(Meanwhile Planet Wamir, Veyr's POV)
*Flutter*
*Paper Crinkling*
The poster fluttered weakly in the desert breeze, its edges curled and sun-bleached, yet the face upon it still stared back with haunting clarity — sharp eyes, dark hair, and a defiant expression that seemed to be carved from pride itself.
—------------
Aegon Veyr.
Dragon of the Evil Cult.
Wanted Dead or Alive.
Reward: 200 Billion MP Alive.
50 Billion Dead.
2 Billion for Verified Proof of Existence.
—--------------
It was, by every imaginable standard, an absurd sum of money, enough to buy a couple solar systems, or to start one of the universe's most prominent merchant groups from scratch.
Veyr stood silently before it, his hood drawn low, the coarse fabric brushing his jawline as he watched two men chatting idly beside him.
"Two hundred billion, can you believe that?" one said, squinting at the poster. "That's not a bounty, that's a god's ransom."
