Reborn as a Devouring Dragon with a System-Chapter 113: Choosing Draconic Bloodline

Drakion looked at the interface before him. It resembled a deck of cards, each one turned over to hide its number. This was how the choosing of the Dragon bloodlines looked. The cards were numbered up to twenty, and it seemed that all twenty contained Draconic bloodlines.

Ding!

[Host should proceed to choose two cards from the deck of bloodlines. Each card is a Draconic Bloodline, so Host should have no fear of picking a Draconic shell.]

When Drakion heard the system’s notification, he felt as though it was showing off—emphasizing the words Draconic shell with unnecessary flair.

"Wait... would there be a Draconic bloodline I’ve awakened before among this deck?" Drakion asked, his voice wary. He was well aware of the system’s tricks—not that he would pick a card only to discover a bloodline he’d already awakened. And with the system’s clever ways of evading direct answers, he feared he would be left helpless.

Ding!

[Host shouldn’t worry about that. All bloodlines are new and unrelated to the awakened one.]

After Drakion heard this, his mind eased. Gazing at the cards before him, he fell into a contemplative silence, hoping that Brother Misfortune wouldn’t strike now.

Drakion clicked one of the cards.

Ding!

[Host should proceed to pick the remaining card.]

He heard this and realized the system intended to release both Draconic bloodlines at once.

Wasting no time, he picked another card.

The two cards floated in front of Drakion. Then, one of the cards slowly turned. He saw the image of a dragon—one that appeared as the very incarnate of a demon. The image felt terrifyingly real, and from its body flowed black and red Originat energy, pulsating like corrupted flame.

Ding!

[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained: Rare Draconic Bloodline – Demonic Dragon Bloodline.]

When Drakion heard this, he nodded. Now this was what one should call a bloodline. He smiled to himself—it was even a Legendary Dragon Bloodline, for Heaven’s sake. This made him genuinely delighted. It seemed the system had chosen not to be evil this time.

He turned to the second card as it slowly rotated. A blue-green brilliance shimmered from it, as though it embodied the very forces of nature—storms, lightning, and rain bowing beneath its wings.

When Drakion saw this, he felt a formidable aura, one that reminded him of Elemarion—mighty and untamed.

Ding!

[Congratulations, Host. You have obtained: Legendary Draconic Bloodline – Azure Dragon Bloodline.]

The moment Drakion heard the name of the dragon, his expression froze. That name was unmistakably familiar. He had been to China before, and due to his passionate love for novels, he had researched countless myths and legends.

The Azure Dragon, also known as Qinglong in Chinese mythology, was one of the Four Symbols—an ancient guardian associated with the East and the Spring season.

"I hope it’s not what I’m thinking it is..." Drakion muttered under his breath.

Ding!

[Detection complete: Among the Dragon members, there is one that can transmute into an Azure Dragon.]

When Drakion heard this, his eyes widened in surprise. "Who among them?" he asked.

Ding!

[The Draco-Mouse is the one eligible for it.]

The moment he heard this, Drakion was stunned.

The Draco-Mouse...?

How was the Draco-Mouse eligible for such a bloodline?

Drakion sighed deeply—but alas, the system knows best.

Before solving anything, Drakion proceeded to absorb the Thunder Fragment.

There was no spectacle.

No streak across the sky.

No roar tearing through clouds.

No storm to greet him.

Only a pulse.

A tremble beneath thought—subtle, but undeniable.

Then, silence.

A silence not born of stillness... but preparation.

And in that silence, something arrived.

Not violently.

Not with fire or pressure.

But with presence.

Lightning came first.

It did not walk.

It did not flow.

It appeared.

Like a truth long hidden... simply stepping forward.

Without apology. Without need for ceremony.

It was not light.

It was not electricity.

It was reality, made immediate.

A line that split the world from illusion—without asking, without warning.

Not because it was cruel.

But because delay was a lie.

Lightning was clarity so sharp it cut.

Not a blade, but a revelation.

Not rage—but resolve.

It could not be stopped because it never began.

It always was.

It did not strike out of anger.

It did not move to destroy.

It simply revealed.

And what could not withstand truth... broke.

Lightning is the decision that exists before you speak.

The moment something must happen—and so it does.

It did not tear through Drakion.

It passed through him.

And when it left, nothing false remained.

No doubt.

No mask.

Only what truly was.

Then... Thunder came.

Not behind. Not in its wake.

But as the echo of the world recognizing truth.

Where lightning was precise, thunder was vast.

Where lightning revealed, thunder confirmed.

It did not speak in syllables or sound.

It rolled.

A weight behind the eyes.

A pressure in the bones.

Not loud—but deep.

Thunder wasn’t an answer.

It was the understanding of the answer.

It did not strike.

It settled.

Like ancient drums that marked the march of fate.

Like the breath taken after grief.

Like the sigh of the sky itself.

It was not fast.

It did not need to be.

Where lightning showed what was broken, thunder asked:

"Can it be rebuilt?"

"Should it remain?"

"Will it endure?"

It did not judge with cruelty.

It judged with inevitability.

Not as punishment.

As resonance.

If lightning was the law, then thunder was the consequence.

Not because it wanted to be.

Because it had to be.

And in the stillness between them, Drakion sat motionless.

Not as a cultivator.

Not as a dragon.

But as a presence... acknowledging another.

He saw now that Lightning and Thunder were not merely tools of destruction.

They were forces of alignment.

They did not tear the world apart—they restored its order.

Lightning burned away what lied.

Thunder reclaimed what remained.

And together, they ensured that what stood... was real.

Thunder was not wrath. novelbuddy.cσ๓

It was memory.

The echo of all things falling into place.

It could destroy—but only to make space for what must be.

It could shake mountains—not to unmake them, but to remind them they are not eternal.

It could deafen kings—not to humble them, but to teach them silence.

Thunder was not loud because it was angry.

It was loud because it answered something that had already been asked.

Drakion opened his eyes slowly.

There was no glow.

No divine aura.

Only stillness.

The kind of stillness found after truth is spoken.

After the storm does not come—but was always there.

And now, within him, the Devouring Dragon no longer surged.

It listened.

For even devouring must kneel before truth.

Even power must pause before laws older than might.

And these—Thunder and Lightning—were not weapons.

They were vows.

Bound not by choice, but by necessity.

Lightning reveals.

Thunder remembers.

Together—they balance.

And Drakion... understood.

Ding!

[Host has comprehended the Thunder Law. Host can now ascend to the next level.]

Meanwhile, the others surrounding Drakion looked at him. They could feel a vast aura emanating from him—it wasn’t Draconic.

It felt as though Drakion himself had become the heavens... delivering judgment.

As for Quin and Drax, who appeared beside Drakion, they were stunned the moment their eyes met his form—

finding what they saw utterly unbelievable.