Ragnar stared at the options, his momentary triumph replaced by a cold sweat.
Option One was suicide. Option Two was… mortgaging his future for an even longer, more painful period of magical indentured servitude.
But Isabelle Thorne… she was worth it. A Level 13 Sword Saint as his Bloodkin?
The strategic advantage was immeasurable. No dungeon lord in recorded history had a former top-tier Hero willingly converted to their side.
"Pixia," he muttered, "remind me to have a very stern word with the universe about its predatory lending practices."
He took a deep breath and let it out through gritted teeth. "I choose Option Two."
The system accepted. His current CP dropped to zero. A new, heavier sense of debt settled upon his True Core, a weight that felt both financial and metaphysical.
But in his hand, the Blood Chalice pulsed with a dark, inviting light, like it too understood the gravity of the transaction.
He turned and offered it to Isabelle.
