"The house was just sitting empty, so we let Uncle Takai use it," Chloe explained. "They discovered a hot spring nearby, and he turned it into a boutique ryokan. It's quite popular now."
Alistair closed his suitcase, feeling a bit speechless. Great. I have to make a reservation to visit my own family home.
The Next Day:
"Hey, Uncle... how much longer?" Alistair yawned from the backseat.
"About an hour. We'll make it just in time for lunch," his uncle replied, eyes on the road.
"I'm going to catch some more Z's. Didn't get enough sleep last night." Alistair leaned back and drifted off. He'd spent the previous night grinding FPS games. With his enhanced reflexes and perception, he was a god among men in the gaming world. In the past, he'd been a "hard-pity" gacha victim—always spending a fortune just to get a single rare card. Now, his luck and skill seemed to be turning around.
Vroom... vroom...
In his half-sleep, Alistair felt an intense heat rising within him, like a furnace igniting in his chest.
"Why is it so hot? Uncle, did you turn the heater on?" Alistair tugged at his collar, fanning himself.
"Heater? The windows are wide open, kid. It's a nice breeze," his uncle replied, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Alistair snapped awake. He looked out the open window. The air was cool, yet he was sweltering. What the hell is going on?
"How close are we?" he croaked, his throat feeling parched.
"Maybe forty minutes. We crossed into the rural district a while ago."
Is there something here reacting to me? Alistair drank a whole bottle of water, but the dryness persisted.
As he closed his eyes again, a vision flickered in his mind: a plume of Azure Flame. It wasn't a massive inferno, but it radiated a terrifying pressure. In the heart of the fire, he saw a silhouette—a creature of ash-white scales with cerulean patterns, curved horns, four legs, and massive wings.
A dragon? Alistair's pulse quickened. Am I connected to this thing?
If it was a sentient dragon soul, it would be dangerous. If it was just a remnant, it was a goldmine. But he had no dragon blood—at least, none he knew of. Could it be the Demon Ring? Demons and Western dragons shared similar traits in many mythologies. Or perhaps it was the inheritance his grandfather mentioned?
Alistair tapped his fingers nervously on the door handle. Whatever it was, he was about to find out.