CHAPTER 172: THE FRACTURED MOON RESTORED

Drakon's eyes fluttered open from his sleep; he was still in Morgana's house, a place that seemed more like a mental health facility than a home. The walls were lined with strange artifacts and glowing runes, and the persistent scent of herbs and incense filled the air. The house had almost a haunted feel. He tried to move but found his body weak, his limbs heavy. The thing Morgana had injected into him sapped his strength, leaving him helpless and vulnerable. His mind raced as he recalled the events that led him here, what he suffered at the hands of those strange men who whipped him, and the looming threat of Morgana's sinister plans. Morgana entered the room, her presence commanding and cold. She was a tall, imposing figure with raven-black hair cascading down her back, her eyes a piercing blue that seemed to see right through him. She glanced at Drakon with contempt. "You're awake," she said, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "Good. It's no fun if you sleep through the end."