The Black Dragon plunged headfirst into Jasmine's embrace, his entire body trembling violently, his mouth opening and closing continuously as he tattled to Jasmine: "Jas, gru gru gru gru."
As the Black Dragon spoke, he even used his small claw to point toward the grass patch with a look full of grievance, as if a bullied child had found his backer.
Jasmine also did not have the time to carefully consider whether the Black Dragon had actually called her name in the urgency of the moment. She first looked at the butler and saw that the fire on his arm had been quickly extinguished, leaving only a mottled, pitch-black patch on his sleeve and slightly reddened skin; only then did she feel somewhat relieved.
Afterwards, she became slightly puzzled, narrowing her eyes to look toward the dense grass patch that was still rustling. In this desolate wasteland, where did a fireball come from? Could there be a mage in hiding?
