"Shush... this is no longer your territory. Mountain Master, do not act hastily and with rage..."
Just as the enormous crocodragon had pushed down the city gates and gazed into the city, its anger swelling, a weak voice came from above.
Between the two prominent, spiky scales on the crocodragon's forehead, there was a vague silhouette of a person, faintly breathing as if seated cross-legged atop a throne constructed of layers of beast flesh and blood.
But upon closer inspection, one could see that the so-called flesh throne was in fact the distorted and blurred lower half of a person, with crimson, twisted blood-flesh tendrils spreading out beneath the seat. These tendrils, formed from mutated blood vessels and nerves with the indistinct figure as their source, penetrated the crocodragon's skull, exchanging a deep purple fluorescent liquid back and forth.