Max acknowledged him with a small nod—but his attention was elsewhere.
His gaze shifted toward the old woman.
Something about her made him hesitate.
Perhaps it was the way she sat—completely at ease, yet carrying the weight of someone who had watched lifetimes pass before her.
Still, he spoke.
"And you are?"
A sudden cough from Klaus.
"Max—"
He barely got the word out before—
SLAP!
A sharp sting ran through Max's palm.
His brain stalled.
'What the hell?'
The old lady had smacked his hand.
The strike wasn't just fast—it was perfectly timed, impossibly precise.
"That's how you talk to an old lady?" she scolded, her tone unimpressed, almost bored.
"Don't you know how to respect your elders?"
Max's eye twitched.
Even with 300 Dragon Scales reinforcing his body—he 'felt' that slap.
This wasn't just an ordinary elder.
This woman had technique.
For the first time, he took a proper look at her.
Long black hair streaked with white. Wrinkles tracing across her face.
