In the heart of an extinct volcano.
Amidst the seething magma, Caesar lowered his gaze to his reflection. He beheld a majestic Red Dragon. Over thirty feet in length, his form was akin to a hillock, adorned with intricate fangs, and winding, regal horns. His pupils burned like twin suns, and the ruby scales that sheathed his body shimmered as if they were gemstones, with tufts of flame dancing along his frame. Every breath he expelled was a gust of scorching wind.
An acrid scent of sulfur permeated the air as his imposing silhouette radiated an indomitable aura.
Gradually, Caesar pieced together the truth.
He had transcended realms.
Once idly perusing novels while languishing in bed, intending to charge his phone, an electrical tempest transported him into this bewildering reality.
He was now a dragon—more precisely, a youthful Red Dragon of twenty-eight years according to dragon reckoning.
Caesar Orion Astaroth Actaeon Gethen Acheron Kil'jaeden Malorne... Sargeras; indeed, his true name was as expansive and grand as his new form.
After a period of slumber and an accidental awakening of memories from his past life, taking half a day to assimilate, he felt a sense of fortuity.
"How fortunate to have been reborn a Red Dragon!"
To embody a creature of such strength and not some inferior being like a slime or a goblin was indeed a stroke of luck.
Dragons—the very paragon of wisdom and the apex predators of their domains—possessed not only the inherent draconic tongue but were also versed in nearly every language known across the realms.
And the Red Dragons stood as the preeminent amongst these chromatic sovereigns, symbols of power and malevolence from the moment of their birth within the endless cosmos.
Measuring at about forty feet, Caesar acknowledged the classifications cast upon his ilk: middle-sized for those spanning twenty to thirty feet, large-sized for thirty to fifty feet, and colossal beyond that mark.
Still in his dragon adolescence, he had already attained the stature of a large-sized dragon, a testament to his lineage's might. It was not inconceivable that upon reaching fifty years and entering dragon adulthood, he would ascend to the colossal ranks—a privilege reserved for the chromatic elite.
As the proud scion of the Red Dragon lineage, it was not without its tribulations.
In a world rife with dragons, elves, casters, elementals, titans, demons, angels, abyssal creatures, and deities... his existence was not as untroubled as one might presume.
Most chromatic dragons were pure embodiments of malevolence, taking pride in malefaction and deriding virtue.
At an equivalent age of two or three in human years, draconic offspring were expelled by their mothers, forced to fend for themselves in the wilderness.
Ceasar's plight was more dire, for he was an abandoned egg.
The wilderness teemed with powerful magical entities capable of threatening even a dragon's life—more so for a fledgeling Red Dragon. Left with little choice, he reluctantly formed a pact with a formidable fellow dragon for protection.
A ninety-year-old female dragon, on the cusp of adulthood, was his protector.
Not long ago, his benefactor's constant imposition upon human realms had brought several human kingdoms to their breaking point. In response, they sought the aid of a Silver Dragon to vanquish the malicious Red Dragon.
The Silver and the Red Dragons were archenemies of dragonkind, nearly matched in strength at equal ages. Silver Dragons, embodiments of law and benevolence, abhorred the wickedness of their counterparts and would often champion the causes of those beleaguered by the Red Dragons. Conversely, the Red Dragons despised the Silver Dragons' righteousness and accused them of meddling.
A Red Dragon would not hesitate to brutally best his Silver counterpart if ever they met unaccompanied. But such events were rare, as Silver Dragons preferred to battle in numbers, outnumbering their Red adversaries.
Dragons were no strangers to internal strife, sparring frequently occasioned by mutual disdain. Rarely did these confrontations result in fatalities—more often, they resulted in a severe drubbing.
The female Red Dragon triumphed once over an adult Silver Dragon, only to be humbled when a coalition of Metal Dragons returned, driving her into retreat.
Her domain fell to human forces, many of her kin slain.
Now, whereabouts unknown, the female Red Dragon was likely recuperating, biding her time for retribution against the human kingdoms.
Caesar sighed; though detestable, she had strength unrivaled, and under her wing, he thrived without need for hunting, basking in the trove of spoils brought by her servants within the dragon's lair.
For dragons are creatures of slumber, their power waning not with inactivity but growing with each passing year.
Surveying his newly claimed territory, hunger gnawed at him.
A dragon of his esteem could not stoop to devouring earth, regardless of digestion prowess—a matter not of capability, but of dignity.
Thus, yearning for days under another's tutelage, he resolved anew:
"No longer shall I languish in shame; it is my duty to rekindle the glory of dragonkind!"
Amidst this resolve, a series of mechanical tones resonated within his mind.
"Host's determination detected. System activation commencing..."
"Calibrating..."
"Initiating the Fertility Fortuna System bond!"
"Bond successful!"
"Notice: For every offspring sired, the system will bestow appropriate rewards. The higher the quality of the progeny, the richer the rewards."
Visions of a translucent panel materialized before him, detailing his essence:
Host: Caesar Orion Astaroth Actaeon Gethen Acheron Kil'jaeden Malorne... Sargeras
Age: 28 years (Juvenile Stage)
Lineage: Red Dragon
Abilities: Flame Breath, Draconic Majesty, Fire Magic (Master below high sorcery)
Stunned for a moment, Caesar soon realized the boon before him—his own transcendent talisman had arrived.
With fervor tempered, he devoted himself to mastering his newfound boon.
Before long, clarity dawned upon him, and the workings of the system were laid bare: each sired progeny would yield rewards, ranging from rare treasures, magical artifacts, to augmentation of his draconic bloodline...
Indeed, this was a gift beyond compare.
PS: Stages of dragon maturity: Wyrmling (0-5), Youngling (6-15), Drake (16-25), Juvenile (26-50), Young Adult (51-100), Adult (101-200), Mature Adult (201-400), Elder (401-600), Ancient (601-800), Wyrm (801-1000), Great Wyrm (1001-1200), Primordial Dragon (1201+)...