"I know," Rory replied with a small nod, her expression calm but firm. "But you haven't even brought down a single beast yet. And with you only showing Rank Five strength right now, who knows how many you'll actually manage to kill once we're out there?"
Dax froze, staring at her as if she'd just spoken complete nonsense.
What did she just say? Was she questioning his abilities? That was infuriating.
He was a Rank Eight Etherian. Crushing a few level-five beasts was no different from swatting insects with a lazy hand. If he wanted, he could wipe out the whole hunting ground in minutes––all by himself.
"I'm already doing you a favor," Rory continued, unfazed by his internal outrage. "I gave you half a serving of breakfast. If Paros finds out, he'll probably accuse me of playing favorites."
As she spoke, Rory casually began pulling the half-bowl of fruit oatmeal back toward herself, as though the matter were already settled.
