Jean, with her high standards, was a force to reckon with. "In our world, there are over a dozen dragon types, but the most revered are split into four categories: the powerful elental dragons at the pinnacle, followed by the sturdy tal dragons, the neutral gem dragons, and lastly, the notorious five-color dragons of the chaotic evil camp."
"The five-color dragons, weak and despised for their malevolence and chaos, aren't typically acknowledged as true-blooded dragons by their peers."
This perception had perated widely. Despite their full dragon lineage, their lesser strength and chaotic nature spurred the belief that they were not 'real' dragons.
"It's a bit of an ironic twist," Logan mused aloud, "considering that in many dragon-slaying tales spread across the mainland, these five-color dragons often erge as the central figures, overshadowing even the dragon beasts and mutant dragons."
Holding the dragon blood potion in his grasp, Logan felt a surge of appreciation for Jean's father, who had so readily offered such a valuable gift despite their brief acquaintance.
"What are you staring at? Just drink it already!" Jean chided, a hint of impatience lacing her voice.
"I'm right here," she continued. "If anything feels off, just let know, and I'll help you through it."
"Alright!" With a nod, Logan removed the potion's cap, bracing himself against the strong scent of blood emanating from within. It was a valuable concoction, after all.
Suddenly, the system chid in unexpectedly:
Potion: Dragon Blood Potion
Level: Grandmaster
Composition: A blend containing one ten-thousandth of a quasi-legendary white old dragon's blood, and one percent of its heart, expertly crafted by a grandmaster alchemist.
Safety level: Perfect, no adverse effects known.
Stunned by the system's proactive analysis, Logan paused, realizing the true potency of what he was about to consu.
The so-called quasi-legendary white dragon, it turns out, belonged to the elderly and least impressive of the five-color dragons.
"It's recorded that these old dragons live for at least four hundred years," Logan reflected, comparing this dragon's age to his relatively young in-laws; his father-in-law was only fifty-one, and his brother-in-law Fisher just thirty-one. Quite the disparity in age without achieving legendary status.
As he tilted the bottle, the dragon's blood potion slid down his throat. Initially, there was only the tallic tang of blood, but as the last of the liquid passed his lips, an intense chill spread through his body, as if he had swallowed an iceberg.
"Don't be alard," Jean reassured him with a knowing smile, her erald eyes twinkling mischievously. "The white dragon is an ice type, its blood infused with icy elents. Just endure it for a mont."
Almost imdiately, system notifications chid:
Ding: Congratulations to the host for advancing to a fifth-level warrior!
Ding: Congratulations to the host for awakening the ice system, becoming a first-level ice magician!
Despite shivering uncontrollably from the cold, Logan felt a sudden shift; the icy sensation vanished, replaced by a surge of vitality that eradicated any fatigue. Now, he not only stood as a fifth-level warrior but had also unlocked his potential as an ice magician.
"This dragon's blood potion is truly a grandmaster concoction, worth its weight in gold," he thought to himself, marveling at the transformation.
As he regained his bearings, he noticed Jean beginning to undress. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.
"Do you disapprove?" Jean's voice was sultry, her movents deliberate as she shed her garnts, revealing more of her skin underneath.
"I..." Logan started, his intent to rely assist her interrupted by his own hands that seed to move with their own volition, grasping where they should not as he, driven by a primal instincts pounced on her taking hold of her lifting her up and then throwing her on the bed moving himself on top of her.
Cursed by the potion or bewitched by the mont, Logan felt his self-control wavering, torn between reason and a more primal urge as Jean lay before him, her intentions clear and his desires conflicting every bit of sanity he had.
As the effects of the dragon's blood potion intensified, Logan felt an overwhelming heat coursing through his body, his pulse quickening as if driven by rampant hormones.
"Look at you... This is just a side effect of the potion. You're going to marry anyway, so why the fear, just let it go, I am yours already?" Jean teased, her smile blossoming like peach petals, amusent twinkling in her eyes as she watched Logan comically struggle with his own clothing.
"Side effects?" he managed to say, his voice strained.
"Yes, dragons are known for their intense desires, it's deep in their bones, unavoidable," Jean explained, her grin widening as she held him close to her feeling the heat perating through his skin.
As the night unfolded into a blur of confusion and heated monts, the morning brought a groggy awakening for Logan. He opened his eyes slowly, the light of dawn casting a soft glow around the room. Stretching languidly, he murmured to himself, "It feels so good to just lie in."
The desire to sink back into the pillows was tempting, but the mories of the previous night jolted him upright. He recalled with a mix of shock and embarrassnt how Jean had seemingly taken advantage of the potion's aftereffects.
"Where is she now?" he muttered, scanning the room. To his surprise, Jean was still there, sleeping peacefully beside him under the quilt. Lifting it, he confird her identity as she lay there bare without anything on, frustration bubbling up as he quickly covered her up. "This treacherous woman, she tricked into losing my virginity!"
With a huff, Logan rembered another significant event from last night, the system's notifications. "I was promoted!" he exclaid, a sudden shift in his mood as he recalled the newfound powers.
"And I've awakened to the ice system magic." His thoughts turned to the potential of his new abilities, considering the ice system, a potent branch of the water system, offered him newfound strength and capabilities.
Despite the complexities of the night, these abilities provided a silver lining, a powerful advantage he was eager to explore.
Na: Logan Silvermane
Age: 10 years old
Occupation:
- Level 5 Warrior (Experience 67/100) (Reputation 2478/1000) (Practice 9/10)
- Level 1 Ice Mage (Experience 67/100) (Reputation 2478/1000) (Practice 3/10)
Position: Chief of the Silvermane Tribe
Population: 3873
Soldiers: 753 warriors, 206 warg cavalry
Territory: 1620 square kiloters
Notable Establishnts: Mall (opened)
Special Abilities: Professor Inheritance (already activated), Sub-professional Inheritance (already activated)
Logan observed the status report before him, his young features reflecting a mix of surprise and determination. Promoted to the esteed fifth level, with his cultivation nearing a perfect 9/10, the prospect of ascending to the next level was tantalizingly close. A re push, and he could ascend to the esteed rank of a sixth-level warrior.
The suggestion for a reputation breakthrough stirred a flurry of emotions within Logan. mories of his clashes with the formidable Jean flooded his mind, a reminder of the trials he had faced as he rembered being taken advantage off. The temptation to bolster his reputation was undeniable, a chance to reclaim his honor from past encounters where he felt overpowered.
Yet, a shrewd calculation prevailed in Logan' mind. With his cultivation on the brink of advancent, a premature reputation breakthrough would only squander his potential. Patiently, he resolved to bide his ti, to maximize his gains. Why settle for incrental progress when a strategic delay could yield exponential rewards?
Thus, with a firm resolve, Logan resisted the allure of instant gratification. He chose to prioritize long-term gains over imdiate rewards, poised to seize the mont when the ti was ripe for an optimal leap in his journey of martial prowess.
Turning off the system interface, Logan quickly put on his clothes. He didn't know whether it was him or Jean who took off his clothes last night, but right now he was completely naked.
After slipping into his attire, Logan descended the staircase, his footsteps echoing through the silent halls, a stark contrast to the bustling morning outside. As he approached the dining area, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of pancakes.
"Morning," Logan greeted, glancing at the empty seat where Jean usually sat. His absence lingered like a silent question in the room.
"It must have been quite painful for him," Logan mused aloud, his voice carrying a hint of concern. "Running off at dawn like that."
As he settled at the table, the conversation shifted, Tyton's eyebrows knitting together in surprise as Logan unveiled his plan.
"You're planing to buy slaves?" Tyton's voice carried a mix of astonishnt and curiosity, mirrored by the intrigued expressions of Cardia and the others gathered around the table.
Logan nodded, his expression resolute. "Yes, indeed. I'll be returning to the tribe in a few days. And when I do, I'll be bringing back those Beastn and quilboars who aren't keen on staying here. But with the inevitable manpower shortage upon my return, hiring a group of slaves seems like the prudent choice."
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