True Dragon?

'Only I can sense the divine godly aura from the painting?' Max thought, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, his heart beat faster with both fear and awe. Was there truly a real dragon—no, a _god_—sealed within this painting? Or perhaps the painting wasn't a seal, but a window. A passage.

In contrast, Max felt the pressure of the aura almost crushing him. It wasn't just the painting's majesty; it was something deeper, something more primal. The energy radiating from it was not merely visual—it felt alive, divine, terrifying in its vastness.

It was as if the dragons themselves were watching him, their eyes piercing through the very fabric of the painting. His instincts screamed that there was more to this than mere artistry.

"What happened to you? Why are you sweating so hard?" Lady Virelia's voice cut through the haze of pressure swirling in Max's mind. Her tone was calm, but there was a trace of concern layered beneath it.