Canna gulped as he stared at the vial in his hand, a sense of foreboding washing over him. His instincts screamed that this vial was more than just simple "blood"—it was something far more potent and potentially dangerous. He glanced back at Tonitrum, the dragon's massive form looming over him, then returned his gaze to the vial. Despite his apprehension, Canna knew that whatever this vial contained, it was meant to make him stronger. The dragon had a habit of pushing him toward greater power, if only to keep himself entertained by the growing prowess of his "MC."
"This vial... is it really your blood?" Canna asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty and a hint of awe.
Tonitrum's eyes gleamed with a mischievous light as he confirmed, "Yes, it's a concentrated amount of my blood."
