"Let's begin, thank you for your service." Diliya's hands were trembling.
She was an Imperial Concubine, yet she couldn't ensure the future and safety of her own child.
This feeling of weakness, this sense of powerlessness, was like a knife cutting through her heart.
Lin Xin lay in the rectangular frame, not crying or making a fuss, just quietly watching as the priest made a small cut on his arm with a dark purple Crystal Knife.
Crimson blood flowed out, dripping into the frame below.
Sss....
Faint yellow symbols emerged from the bottom of the frame, glowing with fluorescence.
The symbols represented aptitude.
There were ten symbols in total inside the frame, while ordinary people could only light up three at most; the strong could light up five.
The top-notch ones could light up six or seven.
Lin Xin thought for a moment and didn't specifically enhance his aptitude.
To him, the natural aptitude of this body was sufficient—moderate, neither strong nor weak.
