In Damian's peripheral vision, text appeared.
[Title: Chosen One]
[Luck: 10]
His breathing stopped, staring at the new information.
'A title? And a new stat?'
His mind raced, trying to process what he was seeing.
'The luck Lily mentioned… wasn't illusory. It's an actual stat?'
More questions flooded in.
'But what does it even do? How does luck work as a number?'
Then his thoughts shifted to the title itself.
'Chosen One.'
Elizabeth's words echoed in his memory, quoting the hooded figure, calling him the chosen one of the old beggar.
'I don't understand what this means, but–'
His face became grim, jaw clenching.
'–looking at the commotion it's causing, this feels like a target painted on my back more than a blessing.'
The ancient voice resonated again, but this time directly in Damian's mind rather than across the mountain.
"Damian Valcor Bloodworth."
Goosebumps exploded across his entire body.
