In just two more days, Max would receive the news of whether he had become a father or not, and whether that child would bless him with an initial Ice Dragon bloodline at the ancestor level. He had waited for this moment for too long. Too long to pretend he was calm. Too long to pretend this did not matter.
In just a few days, he would enter the Thunder Dragon capital city, raise hell, and plunder their treasures with the new abilities burning inside him. The thought alone should have made his blood roar with excitement, yet that night, he still could not sleep. His body was restless, but his mind was worse.
Again and again, it dragged him back to Rosalia, back to the words he had said, back to the ugly thing he had done. He wondered if he had been right. He wondered if this whole system thing was even right. What if it was playing him? What if he did not receive the bloodline? What if Rosalia left with his child and never looked back?
