"Boom, boom—thud, thud—thud, thud—"
Ronan could distinctly hear the sound of his own heartbeat, different from its usual rhythm, carrying an ancient, primordial cadence. The bloodline crystal embedded in his heart was releasing dark blue mist at an abnormal rate, this essence-infused vapor coursing through his veins. The slippery, sharp sound he had once heard in dreams echoed again in his ears.
"Frost... Hecarto Frost!... Hecarto!..."
An ancient, malevolent consciousness relentlessly assaulted Ronan's mind, causing his breathing to become labored. Each exhalation formed intricate, beautiful ice patterns in the air before him. Violent, savage, and evil desires surged from the depths of his heart, compelling him to freeze and destroy everything.
This was a stage mentioned in Soraya's "bloodline transplantation" research notes, an inevitable phase in bloodline fusion. The key was to conquer and harness the residual beastly will within the bloodline using one's own will. Failure meant falling into an endless abyss.
The will of the ancient Frost Hydra, a primordial beast overlord, far exceeded any predictions Soraya had made in her notes in terms of danger. Only Ronan knew the true peril he faced.
"Hecarto…"
Ronan took a deep breath, silently entering the [Lake of No Thoughts] state. The violent thoughts stirred by the bloodline were swiftly encased in ice, sinking to the bottom of his mental lake. Regaining his composure, his consciousness gradually cleared.
"Roar!"
An inhuman roar suddenly rang out, accompanied by a surge of resistance and heat in his palm, growing more intense. Ronan looked up, his crimson serpent eyes reflecting a face completely covered in dense flame patterns, with curved red horns seemingly sprouting from its head. The eye sockets appeared almost hollow, filled with a crazed, evil orange-gold flame.
"Burn… incinerate everything!"
The strange creature growled at Ronan, its voice a discordant mix of several tones, inducing a strong sense of discomfort. Flashing images crossed Ronan's mind.
He suddenly recalled that in the distant ancient epochs, "he" had encountered such creatures—fire-spouting ants scurrying foolishly among volcanoes. Whenever his breath froze their territory, they would mindlessly and fearlessly issue angry, laughable roars, much like now.
Of course, the most amusing part was that when crushed, these feeble, insignificant bodies would explode into a burst of pretty sparks with a "pop."
"Truly nostalgic."
Ronan murmured hoarsely, releasing his grip on the creature's neck.
"By the name of the ancient flame demon!"
Igor shouted a roar that shook the void, channeling the power emerging from the depths of his bloodline into even hotter flames, burning away the shock and fear gripping his heart.
Breaking free from the hand that restrained him, he stood, howling furiously at the sky. He felt the "Sakiels family" flame demon blood within him reigniting, growing stronger by the second. The extinguished flames rekindled, the detested frost receding from him.
In that moment, the man who had always overshadowed him with his brother's name seemed less daunting. He was so close to surpassing him.
To replace him!
To become the new "king" of the family's generation!
A powerful desire surged within Igor, making him want to thank the dirty, vile frost bloodline for his rapid further awakening.
"Roar!"
Igor, bathed in red-gold flames, let out a triumphant roar. He was now the flame demon of ancient times, the fire king who would incinerate the world. The world would groan and wail at his feet, turning to ashes in death.
But in the next second, all his lofty fantasies abruptly ceased.
A massive, monstrous hand, its black fingertips swirling with dark blue frost, suddenly appeared, tearing through layers of flame and gripping Igor's face and head before violently slamming downward.
"Boom!"
The massive platform quaked violently, the ancient frost returning to engulf all the scorching heat in an instant. The red flames were swiftly buried beneath the ancient ice and snow, tumultuous cold waves rising like tsunamis across the platform, surging and crashing.
In the midst of the blinding snow, a figure could faintly be seen—
A long-haired, dark blue, slender figure, repeatedly slamming a slightly reddened form into the ground with a single hand.
"Boom!"
"Boom, boom!"
"Boom!"
The enormous sound resonated through the spell projection's light screen, the young wizards standing on Mirror Lake outside the secret realm staring at the scene on the screen, their gazes twitching slightly.
Even through the screen, they could feel the terrifying, violent power behind each slam.
Frost devouring flame, a battle of primordial forces.
The large area was eerily quiet, an unusual atmosphere silently flowing through.
Finally.
The scene produced no more sound, the movement gradually subsiding.
The ancient frost settled, shrouded figures obscured by snow once again visible.
Upon the snow-covered platform, a tall, upright figure stood quietly.
Silvery metal flowed over his body, concealing the perfectly contoured, muscular form. His long hair, dark blue, faded back to a pristine white.
The scales on his cheeks and neck vanished, replaced by the markings of a rune.
It was still the same young, handsome boy, his features unchanged, as calm as before, yet with an added air of exotic nobility, like an heir from an ancient noble house.
At the boy's feet lay the battered Igor.
His limbs lay twisted on the ground, face up to the sky, mouth slightly open, eyes empty, the orange-gold hues dimmed, seemingly filled with confusion and helplessness—
Who am I? Where am I? What... just happened?
"Uh…"
The deathly silence above Mirror Lake was finally broken by a sigh, the source unknown.
"How could someone like this appear in the second battlefield…"
Everyone slowly began to stir, a constant buzz of discussion rising.
Caroni stared at the spell projection screen, looking at the youth's figure.
Even standing at the pinnacle of third-level wizards, just a step away from the fourth-level dawn, Caroni, the Third Ring Master, felt a slight shock and distraction.
In a daze, Caroni seemed to see the youth's silhouette overlapping with those of several people in his memory.
Though their styles differed and their power levels varied, they seemed like the same type of person.
"I'm starting to believe this kid isn't Archido's illegitimate child."
The Thorn Palace's green-robed witch's voice reached his ears, her tone complex, "How could Archido possess such an ancient, powerful bloodline?"
Caroni's eyes flickered, offering no answer, instead turning to another direction.
Where Molten Lake and Black Swamp were.
He saw the Black Swamp's third-level leader wizard's eyes, deep and shadowy beneath the feathered mask, watching the scene intently, lost in thought.
As for the bald wizard of Molten Lake, his burning stone staff lowered, his expression dark, nearly grim.
"A pity…"
A thought suddenly leapt into Caroni's mind, a faint regret.
"I should have joined their wager."
Ronan stood on the mirror platform, still exuding faint cold air from his pores.
Remnants of the ancient Frost Hydra bloodline lingered within him.
He looked down, reflecting on the changes within after invoking the bloodline's power for the first time.
Following Soraya's "bloodline transplantation" principles, despite the primitive and rough implantation method, the process was expectedly controllable and gradual.
"Bloodline clashes accelerate this fusion process…"
Ronan had just realized this.
Especially between "elementally opposed" bloodlines.
Igor's ancient flame demon bloodline provoked the ancient Frost Hydra bloodline's upheaval.
The majesty of the ancient overlord, challenged, stirred to action.
In this battle, the bloodline crystal in Ronan's heart diminished by nearly a tenth, the fusion speed tens of times faster than usual.
The absorbed bloodline powers lay dormant within his flesh and bones post-battle.
He could feel "their" presence, but couldn't freely wield "them."
"Is it still too thin..."
Ronan looked at his hands, the slender white fingers tinged with dark blue.
The character panel's talent section hadn't yet displayed "Ancient Frost Hydra Bloodline."
However, Ronan sensed subtle changes in his will.
His demeanor now bore traces of the ancient overlord's nobility and dignity.
"Buzz—"
A strange sound arose, the platform beneath him slowly ascending, energy pulses coming from above.
He looked up.
The massive silver orb, the only light source in this space, trembled, a force calling him closer.
Standing on the rising platform, Ronan neared the silver orb.
Finally, he reached a height nearly level with it.
The once-blinding silver light now softened, revealing a clear view of the orb's interior.
Dense spatial energy, like cold water, washed over Ronan, the [Mirror Light] rune in his consciousness faintly glowing under its influence.
Ronan stared blankly, seeing a beautifully crafted, over a foot long, silver staff suspended in the light.
The space around the staff was oddly stagnant, Ronan's gaze seeming to freeze upon entering that area, a sensation he'd never experienced.
"Spatial stasis?"
Ronan mused, intrigued.
At that moment, a vague consciousness wave emanated from the staff, captured by Ronan.
"Take me... away..."
Ronan blinked, instinctively reaching for the silver staff.
To his surprise, he grasped it with ease.
It was as if the silver staff willingly placed itself in his hand.
The power seemingly capable of halting everything—light, space, even time—was now his to command.
In that moment, Ronan felt an unprecedented sense of control over everything.
"So smoothly?"
He was incredulous.
After merely a few selection rounds, defeating fellow explorer wizards, he had gained inheritance rights to this powerful artifact of uncertain grade.
For a moment, he felt like the "protagonist," a tiger's back shivering, treasures willingly coming to him, effortlessly reaching the pinnacle of life.
Eagerly, Ronan infused mental power into the silver staff, habitually seeking the staff's core runes.
Instead, he encountered an indescribable, vast, ocean-like consciousness.
In his mind, it formed a pair of eyes, pure silver, composed of countless interwoven lines.
They gazed coldly down at him.
Seemingly conveying a message—"How dare you?"
Ronan almost "trembled," even his seemingly unbreakable consciousness space shaking violently, as if about to collapse.
Deep within his will, the ancient Frost Hydra's will seemed provoked by the gaze, stirring further.
But then, in the consciousness space's corner, the small [Mirror Light] rune flickered faintly.
The silver eyes paused, seemingly affected.
In the next instant, the cold invading will swiftly retreated, the core of the silver staff releasing its hold.
"Uh…"
Ronan was momentarily dumbfounded by the unexpected shift.
Instinctively, he quickly memorized the rune fully revealed before him.
He barely had time to ponder its intricacies when he felt enveloped by a powerful spatial force, followed by
"Whoosh—"
The familiar sensation of spatial teleportation.
"Out!"
Beyond the realm, the boy holding the silver light vanished from the spell projection, the projection disappearing with him, Caroni and others on Mirror Lake turning serious.
"Prepare…"
The wizards of the four forces swiftly returned to their respective spell airships.
No sooner had they done so than a massive silver vortex appeared above Mirror Lake.
Caroni and the four third-level leader wizards' eyes gleamed sharply, simultaneously unleashing their formidable spell powers.
Yet a peculiar energy wave emanated from the vortex.
Instantly, Mirror Lake, the airships, the sky, energy waves, everything, including the spell light from Caroni and the others, was "frozen" by a mysterious force, like an image trapped in absolute stasis.
At the center of this still scene, the boy holding the silver staff stepped out of the vortex.
"Sear Aluguth."
As he emerged, a deep, commanding incantation resounded from above.
A vast mental force descended, tearing through the stasis, striking the boy holding the staff.