The Last Primal

"[Reptilian] So, it was indeed the little traitor that caused this scene? How amusing…" A deep, husky voice rang around the silent battlefield. The heavy dust formed a dry cloud, showing only a huge, towering monster steadily approaching.

*Thud!* *Thud!*

Each of the monster's steps rang loudly, ominously in the ears of the stunned crowd standing behind their brave and powerful leader, the ex-archbishop. Each thud shaking the ground ever-so-slightly fueling their growing dread and trepidation further. As the horrifying silhouette kept on growing as it approached them, they trembled, shuddered with fear. Exchanging looks, they all seemed to come to a silent agreement and slowly began to back away, finding more solace in the sheltering cave where the little girl, Tolliah kept on spectating everything that was playing out.

Unlike the rest of the rebels, she had a growing, elated smile plastered on her youthful face, adorning her expression.

She wasn't bothered by the large monster, even though it looked fearsome, she had no doubt that her 'Papa' was the strongest!

"[Reptilain] Little traitorous wyrm… You have the cheek, to not just betray the cause and go against the will of the Ancient One, but also… steal from us?!" The saurus general, Zokor sneered in the midst of the shroud as it stopped a small distance away from the stout, silent, and weirdly calm-looking ex-archbishop.

Though it irked him to no end that despite his show of force, his fearsome appearance, this scrawny, wrinkled old skink dared to not show any fear and instead stood still as if he was the same as the rest of this scum. At the same time, the shadow of doubt slowly began to take its seed in the depths of his heart; was there something more this traitor was hiding that gave him this confidence?

'[Reptilian] Hmpf… There's nothing to worry about, he must be trying his best to display a strong front to his people and hide his exhaustion the best he could. I bet he would try anything to avoid fighting and reveal his shame…' He quickly waved the cloud of doubt away and reassured himself mentally. 'Yes… that must be the case!'

Listening to the filth the large oversized lizard was spewing, Aiden merely flashed a calm smile. He looked just as nonchalant, carefree as before.

"[Reptilian] The 'Cause', you say? How amusing… From what I see, I see nothing but disgusting filth, trash that is lost in his own delusion of conceit. From that high pedestal, you have raised for yourself and are using to look down on the rest of your kin…" Aiden chuckled at his own words for a moment, before fixing it and continued. "…Sorry, you USED to be before your clearly forced… half-*ssed evolution. You should really try to look around a bit more and realize the errors of your ways before it's too late."

His tone that was carefree, light-toned, suddenly shifted to colder, heavy threats as he reached the last sentence. The underlying meaning was so clear, that even a blockhead like this musclehead lizard could understand.

Zokor's face twitched, forming an angered scowl, as he realized the true meaning behind his opponent's speech. He clenched his large, clawed hand, his broad shoulders trembled under his steadily rising rage. His eyes flickered with an ominous luster as he gazed at the scrawny elderly, robed skink in front of him.

"[Reptilian] You!" He heaved with anger. "…Nice… I get it. You really do have a death wish…" General Zokor flashed a relaxed, almost crazed-looking smile, looking as if he 'understood' the reasoning behind the skink's brave front and heavy words. It was obviously a play and he was shivering in fright underneath this layer of… verbose skin underneath.

"[Reptilian] Fine, if that is your true wish, I will gladly fulfill it!" Zokor sneered, as he suddenly launched himself into a charge, rushing with an explosive momentum towards the scrawny-looking elderly skink.

He didn't seem to put the old man in his eyes. He was convinced that the strange power, the skill he used had to be a stolen scroll from their archives. If so, he was sure that he had to be swift and decisive, not to give time for the conniving, shrewd enemy to be able to gather his stamina and launch another attack.

He had to end this battle swiftly, and at the same time, as violently, with as much brutal, vicious display as he possibly could, so that the rest of this pathetic filth would no longer dare to go against them in the future.

As for the little kid, he almost sneered as he thought of the special surprise he had planned for after this whole situation was settled…

Opening his hands, he raised his arms as he almost flew like a rocket in the air. As he looked at the stoically standing figure of his opponent, he was already smirking, celebrating inwardly.

What a pathetic leader! Scared stiff, unable to even raise his arms in an attempt to defend? How could such a weakling, a wyrm… no even less than that, be able to lead these people? How dare they rise up, and speak against the obvious truth? How could they be deceived by this… this…

Suddenly, all his thoughts froze in Zokor's mind. His eyes, which were closed into two slits snapped wide open with the sheer shock. He couldn't believe his own eyes, his own body even though everything was clear.

Just as he was about to swipe down with his claws and shred this pathetic excuse of a skink to tiny, gruesome bits, the man's thin-looking arms suddenly blurred as they shot up, grabbing his own palm with ease.

Several strange, hazy afterimages were left in its wake, drawing a straight, slight arc as the two stick-like limbs absorbed all that incoming force with ease. The archbishop's movements were simple, yet it carried something profound, something Zokor just couldn't understand. How did those weak bones not snap under all that strength they had to absorb?! Why didn't he flinch at all? How could he withstand all that pressure, all that pain without showing any of it?

Just what was going on?!

With an incredulous expression, General Zokor looked at the small robed skink. Suddenly, he could no longer see through this man… there was something strange, something unique about him. Something unnatural.

The moment passing, General Zokor was brought back to reality with the still gentle, calm tone of his opponent. Even if he had suffered inwardly under the attack, he hid it perfectly, it did not show at all in his tone.

"[Reptilian] I have to admit, that was better than what I have expected from someone like you." Aiden gave an honest compliment, smiling warmly at the large Saurus, not bothered by his ugly, hideous grin at all.

"[Reptilian] Still, it's far from being enough… Let me show you how this should be done!"

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