Wizard Bloodline

The carriage window quietly slid open, revealing a young wizard with striking white hair and a cold, proud demeanor, casually gazing outside.

It was Ronan, on his way to Cold Stone Manor to undergo "talent transplantation."

"They insisted on using their special carriage and having the manor's servants transport visitors. No unannounced visits are accepted."

"The family has declined to this point and still adheres to such outdated formalities."

Ronan shook his head, gently closing the window.

After Barisha arranged the contact with Cold Stone Manor, Ronan quickly received a response.

However, the specifics of the "talent transplantation" needed to be discussed in person with the renowned Lady Reeve upon his arrival at the manor.

Cold Stone Manor was located on a snow-covered mountain, several kilometers from White Stone Castle. It would take about ten minutes to fly there using a flying device, but they insisted Ronan take the manor's provided carriage, likely to maintain a semblance of the wizard family's former dignity.

Seated in the swaying carriage, Ronan idly browsed through information on the talent abilities of several second-level magical beasts available at Cold Stone Manor.

He had already formed a preliminary selection in his mind, awaiting more information upon arrival to make a final decision.

The manor's carriage wasn't particularly slow, pulled by a large, warm-blooded horse unique to White Stone Highlands, nearly two people tall.

Its wide hooves suited snowy terrain, and it was pure white with pale blue eyes and mane, making it quite a sight.

After traveling approximately three times the flight duration, Ronan finally reached his destination.

Stepping down from the carriage, Ronan was surprised to find solid frozen ground beneath his feet, with no snow in sight.

The vast snow mist enveloped the surrounding mountains, swirling around a white mansion with the silhouette of a grand castle.

Scattered outside the manor were various large and small blue-grey stones, frozen by frost, with flocks of grey-blue long-tailed pigeons perched atop, likely the origin of Cold Stone Manor's name.

By the manor entrance stood a small grove of bare grey trees, icicles hanging from their branches. Ronan noticed several other carriages similar to his parked nearby.

"Are others visiting Lady Reeve?"

Ronan asked the driver, who nodded respectfully, "Yes, sir. Before you arrived, three other gentlemen had already reached the manor."

It seemed Cold Stone Manor's reputation was indeed commendable, and local monster rumors hadn't deterred the wizard community much.

Ronan nodded and proceeded toward the manor.

A servant awaited him at the manor entrance, specifically to welcome Ronan.

Following the servant, Ronan strolled toward the white, spired castle ahead.

Within the manor, barren and frost-frozen land revealed traces of decaying plants.

Ronan used his mental power to pull a plant into his hand, gently rubbing it.

It was an iris.

A rather hardy variety of iris.

Unfortunately, the White Stone Highlands' climate was too cold. Without the support of rune arrays, even cold-resistant iris varieties would quickly perish in the ice and snow.

However, it's rare to see ice wizards favoring irises…

Ronan mused absently as he neared the enormous white castle.

The tall servant leading the way opened the castle doors, gesturing for Ronan to enter.

A light red carpet stretched from the castle entrance, covering the entire hall, with the interior well-lit, though the temperature was similar to outside.

A glance revealed traditional wizard noble-style decorations throughout.

"Is that you, Lord Linus?!"

A woman's voice echoed from within the castle.

Ronan had already noticed several people seated in the castle hall, all turning to look at him as he entered.

"Yes."

Ronan replied. Before arriving, he had used a mirror artifact fragment to replicate the aura of a typical late first-level wizard, concealing his exceptionally strong mental power fluctuations.

"We've all been waiting for you… at last, you're here!"

The speaking woman quickly approached Ronan, her voice filled with delight.

She was a woman in an elegant blue gown, with blonde hair and green eyes, faint crow's feet at the corners, yet exuding a mature charm and grace.

The aura of a mid-second-level wizard emanated from her, yet she showed no hint of the arrogance typical of high-level wizards, instead displaying a surprising friendliness, as if Ronan were an old friend she hadn't seen in years.

"Service seems decent."

Ronan silently assessed, then politely inquired, "Lady Reeve?"

"Indeed, you guessed correctly."

The beautiful wizard, Lady Reeve, approached, naturally taking Ronan's arm and affectionately leading him to the gathering in the castle hall.

"You're quite strong for a wizard, unlike the usual."

Lady Reeve squeezed Ronan's arm lightly, laughing, her breath lightly brushing his earlobe, making him slightly uncomfortable.

However, Lady Reeve showed restraint, releasing his arm as they approached the group, then introducing him to the others, "Mr. Linus shares the same purpose for visiting Cold Stone Manor as you all."

Some nodded slightly at Ronan, while others glanced briefly before turning away.

This wasn't a wizard exchange meeting; they were merely "customers," making Lady Reeve's introduction seem odd.

Ronan casually found a chair to sit.

There were four other wizards present for "talent transplantation": one second-level wizard, and three late first-level wizards like Ronan.

Lady Reeve was the most powerful among them.

"Now that all guests have arrived, I'll first accompany Mr. Yukik inside. The rest of you, please relax; the wait won't be long."

Lady Reeve smiled at everyone, clapping her hands as servants emerged from the castle's sides, offering refreshments and tea to the wizards.

The mentioned Yukik, the second-level wizard among the guests, was a sharp-eyed, balding man who stood up promptly, following Lady Reeve into the castle hall's rear.

Ronan sat idly, passing time, as the other wizards seemed disinterested in conversation, each sitting quietly.

The refreshments and tea offered were cold, and Ronan had no desire to sample them.

He began observing the castle's interior.

They were in the castle hall's center, with spiral staircases on both sides leading to the second floor.

Ronan's gaze followed the stairs to the second floor, spotting numerous portraits lining the dim corridor.

All women.

Elegant and noble, bearing a slight resemblance to Lady Reeve.

Some portraits even moved, with figures rubbing their cheeks, blinking, or yawning.

In such a quiet environment, it felt somewhat eerie and unsettling.

Ronan, however, was unfazed.

He had heard of this special portrait technique, a type of wizard alchemy preserving a person's essence, appearing vividly lifelike.

In extreme cases, entire souls could reside in these portraits after death, lasting up to a thousand years.

"A family only women can inherit. What's the role of men in such a family? Simply for procreation?"

Ronan suddenly understood why Lady Reeve's behavior seemed "liberated."

Cold Stone Manor's family continuation likely involved acquiring strong wizards' seeds to nurture their descendants.

With the family's decline, restraint seemed unnecessary.

Ronan speculated to pass the time.

The castle's ancient clock ticked away, and after an unknown period, two figures returned to the hall.

It was Lady Reeve and the second-level wizard Yukik, who had left earlier.

Yukik, initially a low-second-level wizard, now exuded mid-second-level mental power fluctuations, though somewhat unstable, suggesting a forced enhancement.

Yet Yukik appeared pleased, unable to hide his excitement beneath his cold demeanor.

Ronan found it surprising that Yukik's previously aloof attitude towards Lady Reeve had shifted significantly after the visit.

He now showed genuine respect, almost approaching flattery.

Yukik's appearance had subtly changed—sparse hair became thick and coarse, his slender frame seemed more robust, emitting slight heat, indicating vigorous blood flow and enhanced physique.

Ronan, a master of body cultivation, was acutely aware of these physical changes.

"Does talent transplantation affect the physique?"

Ronan frowned slightly, puzzled, but remained composed.

The return of the two prompted the waiting wizards to sit up straight.

"According to our agreement, Mr. Yukik, you need to stay at the manor for two months."

"Understood."

Having completed the ceremony and gained improvements, Yukik nodded obediently to Lady Reeve before servants led him away to another part of the castle.

"Well then… who will be next?"

After sending off Yukik, Lady Reeve smiled habitually, looking at the remaining guests.

A slightly dark-skinned female wizard stood up, following Lady Reeve out.

Over the following time, Lady Reeve returned every one or two hours.

Some wizards returned with her, while others did not.

Lady Reeve explained that those who didn't return had left immediately after "talent transplantation."

This was hardly suspicious, as the wizards weren't friends and had no reason to return.

Finally.

It was Ronan's turn.

In the softly lit corridor, Ronan followed Lady Reeve, still pondering Yukik's situation.

He felt Cold Stone Manor harbored secrets.

These secrets might explain the monster sightings, frequent disappearances, and even the disappearance of official wizards near Cold Stone Manor.

But if there was danger…

Ronan doubted it.

With so many ice wizards visiting annually for "talent transplantation," if Cold Stone Manor were a "man-eating" lair, it would have been exposed and destroyed long ago.

Wizards capable of affording "talent transplantation" were often from decent backgrounds, not easily bullied.

White Stone Castle was a grey-robed gathering place, not a dark wizard territory.

Ronan suspected Cold Stone Manor's hidden secret was something known but unspoken, mutually understood.

Such matters often implied undisclosed benefits.

"Lord Linus seems to have noble origins, from a powerful wizarding land?"

Lady Reeve suddenly struck up a conversation with Ronan.

Ronan shook his head calmly, "Not particularly powerful… I spend most of my time traveling alone."

Lady Reeve paused, smiling back at him, saying nothing more, gently pushing open a side door, "Here we are."

Inside was a softly lit room, sparsely furnished, with only a delicate golden table and chairs.

After both sat, Lady Reeve pushed several rune stones toward Ronan, her fingers adorned with beautiful gem rings, highlighting her smooth, delicate skin.

Ronan picked up the rune stones, scanning them one by one, finding the information similar to what he'd seen in the carriage, only more detailed.

"I'll go with the second-level Frost-scaled Python."

Ronan decided after some thought.

The Frost-scaled Python was a challenging first-level beast to advance to second-level.

But once it ascended, its evolved bloodline meant greater abilities and potential.

Post-"talent transplantation," it would provide stronger ice energy affinity.

Additionally, the Frost-scaled Python's innate ability was instant-casting the second-level [Ice Rain Armor], a defensive spell, an advanced version of the first-level [Ice Armor]. It could serve as a spell anchor for the [Frozen Ground] domain and had practical uses.

Ronan lacked offensive means, with fewer defensive options, making the Frost-scaled Python talent transplantation ideal.

Lady Reeve's eyes flickered, softly saying, "I only had one Frost-scaled Python bloodline; it was just used on the wizard before you… perhaps Lord Linus could consider another choice."

What a coincidence?!

Ronan remained expressionless, a nameless emotion stirring within.

He said nothing, simply choosing his second option.

Typically, this would lead to negotiation and preparation.

However, Lady Reeve gently pushed the rune stones aside, her emerald eyes meeting Ronan's, speaking softly, "I actually have a few better options here; would you like to hear them before deciding?"

Ronan's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint light glinting, unfazed by Lady Reeve's sudden proposal, instead feeling a sense of—"Finally, it's come."

He remained composed, nodding at Lady Reeve, "Please, go on."