Vivian's parting words still pricked Garrick's eardrums like needles kissed with frost, refusing to soften or fade.
"Jared carries the Dragon Sovereign Bloodline, the true Draconians have already come for him. Crossing him means crossing the entire Draconian race."
Draconians...
The two syllables felt light, yet they landed on his chest with the weight of a mountain.
In the dim, solemn hall, Garrick stared at tablets worshiped for nearly ten thousand years, and a bitter curve tugged at the corner of his mouth. For millennia he had climbed from a clueless novice cultivator through realm after realm.
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