At first, Michael had merely piqued Sigmund's curiosity.
A man who tamed a dragon and a sphinx.
A legendary marksman and a brilliant strategist.
A hero among the mighty warriors of the continent.
That interest was simple fascination.
After all, anyone could shine for a moment—but few maintained their brilliance.
So Sigmund watched.
He tracked Michael's every move.
During today's summit, he deliberately provoked him—showing disrespect, acting dismissively, all to test the young man's composure.
'How long can he endure such behavior?'
But Michael had received every slight with calm acceptance.
He did not get angry, nor did he show even a flicker of reaction.
There was no fury or arrogance in his eyes—only clarity, like still water.
The other kings were speaking, debating, commenting… but none of it reached Sigmund's ears.
His attention remained solely on Michael.
There was weight in Michael's words.
A quiet, commanding presence that could only come from true strength.
