Drakonix's sharp eyes caught the steely expression on the representative's face. Something had shifted. The man's clenched jaw, the tremble in his shoulders—not from fear, but from long-suppressed rage—said it all. The minority clans had reached their limit. They would bow no longer.
"How dare you speak so rudely to me?!" the Dragon King bellowed, his voice echoing like thunder across the gilded halls. His scaled hand came down hard on the armrest of his throne, shaking the golden structure beneath him.
The representative didn't flinch. "I said nothing false. There wasn't a single lie in my words." His voice rang with bitter clarity. "You don't care about us, do you? To you major clans, we're little more than trained beasts—obedient and disposable. We, the minority, once held respect for you. We took your words seriously. We believed in your guidance. But we were fools."
