"You can't expect me to kill people just to get stronger," Aaron said flatly, his tone laced with irritation. His crimson eyes flicked toward the ceiling, as if hoping the invisible voice would drop the subject.
[And when exactly did I ask you to do that, stupid host?] The system's voice carried that familiar mixture of exasperation and mockery. [I know you won't, which is why I said you can simply wait it out. The older you grow, the stronger you'll naturally become.]
Aaron rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the smugness in that voice.
[For a vampire queen, growth is swift—she can rise all the way to godhood before the pace slows. A primogenitor like you, however, can reach far beyond that—Sovereign, even Celestial. Of course, I'm speaking under the vampire scale of strength. As far as we're concerned, she's not even B-rank yet. She's still C-rank. And that, host, is why bloodline matters immensely in the grand scheme of things.]
