Ethan's actions provoked the little creature. It bared its tiny claws and snapped at him, its golden scales shimmering faintly.
"Hmph... He may be the Ancestral Dragon, but am I not one as well? We were born together. He governs fortune, while I preside over consumption!"
The monstrous dragon inside gnashed its teeth, its deep voice echoing through the space as it glared at the little Golden Dragon in Ethan's hand. Bitterness edged its words. "If not for his better luck, it would be him imprisoned here!"
Ethan froze. Born together? And the little Golden Dragon governed fortune—did that mean luck itself? That would explain why emperors, upon ascending the throne and donning their robes, were called Sons of Heaven, blessed with the world's fortune. So there was truth in those folktales afterall.
But the other one—Consumption—what exactly did that mean? The word carried a strange, ominous weight that he couldn't fully understand.
