"I wonder why her kick was so strong and powerful," Drakion muttered as he watched Lyla run off, gently stroking the aching little brother down there.
"I guess the shoe she wore isn't ordinary. It seems like an artifact—that's what allowed it to hurt you," Drax shook his head, explaining with a knowing sigh.
"No wonder," Drakion grunted as the pain in his groin began to fade slightly.
"But why did you react like that? You had your arm cut off before, and you didn't scream like this," Drax harrumphed.
When Drakion heard that, he turned toward Drax slowly, his voice soft and ominous, "Bring yours. Let me kick it, and we'll see whether you scream or not."
"No—don't worry about it again!" Drax waved his hands rapidly in panic. The next moment, he retreated into silence, sensing that Drakion just might do it if he lingered too long.
