Fafnir walked down a long hallway towards a set of large, black doors with golden inscriptions. The doors were at least four meters tall, towering structures that made the nine-foot-tall dragon emperor look small.
Fafnir's hair swayed behind him as he reached the doors with overconfident strides. His expression was cold, as expected of the dragon emperor. Nothing was ever funny to him. He was a conqueror, a disaster... Happiness was not part of his dictionary.
Fafnir's muscled hands found their way onto the surface of the doors. The muscles strained visibly as the doors began to creak loudly, followed by a deep grunt from Fafnir. In no time, the doors swung back and apart as Fafnir pushed them open.
