"Kid, spill your blood!" the Vermilion Demon Lord barked, his voice like molten iron striking a gong. "That Golden Dragon Bloodline of yours sits atop every draconic lineage. A tower built to shackle dragons will kneel to it. Draw the blood, spark the resonance, now!"
Without a heartbeat of hesitation, Jared slashed his own palm with the Dragonslayer Sword.
Liquid sunlight, pure dragon essence, thick and gold, splattered across the shimmering ward.
Sizzle!
The blood boiled on contact, the way icy rain sizzles on a forge. Runes woven into the barrier guttered, their glow dying, and the once-solid screen quivered like disturbed water.
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