Cutting off the limbs wasn't what caused the real pain—not truly. That was merely the beginning.
The true torment came from Rebecca's Law of Darkness, which clung like tar to the freshly severed flesh of the Dragon King. It burrowed into the wound, corrupting the divine essence within him like a cancer. That spreading, gnawing corruption—it was this that drove him to agony beyond measure.
But she didn't stop there.
Her law slithered outward, sinking its roots deep into the Dragon King's inner world, infecting every corner, every thread of his dominion. He could feel it: his grip on his own soulscape weakening, unraveling. He was being ousted—his throne, his realm, his legacy, all becoming hers.
Then she went for his upper limbs—first one, then the other. Her movements were steady, almost surgical. There was no rage behind her actions, only a chilling patience.
After that came the most painful ordeal of them all.
She began to pluck his scales. One by one.
