Wizard Bloodline

"Before we proceed, we need to sign a contract to ensure the confidentiality of our conversation," Lady Reeve proposed.

"Agreed," Ronan nodded, realizing he was about to uncover Cold Stone Manor's true secret.

Lady Reeve smiled slightly, her rose-colored lips parting as she softly chanted an intricate incantation.

Subtle spiritual energy waves accompanied her chant, dimming the room's light until only a single beam illuminated Ronan and Lady Reeve, shrouding the surroundings in darkness and mystery.

"...By the witness of the God of Contracts and Oaths, I, Livi Estelina Kaczynski..."

With the final syllable of the incantation, a complex, twisted black sigil appeared in the air before Lady Reeve, her gaze shifting to Ronan.

Ronan didn't reveal his true name, maintaining a calm demeanor as he raised his hand, releasing a wisp of soul energy.

Their soul energies merged into the black sigil, which blazed into gold before quickly dissipating.

A simple soul contract was thus established.

"Now we can talk, right?"

Ronan noticed a small mark on his left pinky fingernail, while Lady Reeve's demeanor towards him subtly shifted.

Wizards trusted soul contracts as much as ordinary folk trusted the celestial bodies above. Once two wizards signed a soul contract, their relationship would inadvertently become closer.

"Of course."

Lady Reeve exhaled lightly, smiling at Ronan, "Lord Linus, you must be aware of the pros and cons of 'talent transplantation'?"

"Yes."

Ronan nodded, briefly outlining the known side effects of "talent transplantation." Lady Reeve then said, "Indeed, but that's merely a 'lie' woven by all wizard families in White Stone Castle."

"Over generations, the 'talent transplantation' array has been refined and improved by many wizards in White Stone Castle. It can now complete 'talent transplantation' without polluting mental or soul energy, and the procedure can be repeated more than three times."

"Oh?"

Ronan's eyes flickered as he asked directly, "What's the catch?"

"Speaking with someone as clever as Lord Linus is truly refreshing," Lady Reeve chuckled, "The terms aren't harsh. As long as you stay at the manor for a year and do a few tasks for me, I can perform three talent transplantations for you at no cost. The Frost-scaled Python's talent you desire should be available in two or three months."

Ronan refused outright, "That's too demanding; I can't accept it."

For him, "talent transplantation" wasn't essential. The difference between one and three transplantations wasn't significant enough to justify a year of servitude, missing the Mirror Court's trials.

"Perhaps you'll reconsider once you hear my next offer," Lady Reeve calmly continued, "I possess the technology for true 'bloodline transplantation,' far more powerful than 'talent transplantation' and nearly permanent."

"Bloodline transplantation?!"

Ronan's gaze intensified, fixing on Lady Reeve's eyes, speaking softly, "You're not joking, are you? Do you understand what true bloodline transplantation entails?"

"I don't need a young first-level wizard like you to tell me," Lady Reeve smiled wryly, lazily toying with her gem rings, "If you doubt me, we can sign another contract... Oh, do you remember Yukik? He just received a second-level Icefall Bear bloodline, granting him dominance among mid-second-level wizards and potentially challenging late-second-level ones."

"Keeping you at the castle for a year is for your benefit. Different people react differently to bloodline transplantation, with good and bad changes. Staying under our watch allows us to make timely adjustments and record data."

"So this 'bloodline transplantation' technology is still imperfect, right? Yukik was just a daring test subject."

Ronan narrowed his eyes, realizing the source of the monster rumors near Cold Stone Manor.

He guessed correctly; Cold Stone Manor had likely been experimenting with bloodline transplantation on humans, explaining the disappearances around the manor.

Of course, the process might not be as dark as he imagined.

Ordinary people and low-level wizard apprentices might be coerced into experiments.

But for first-level wizards and above, like Yukik, it was likely voluntary, under a soul contract.

Many wizards saw the body as a mere vessel, willing to endure monstrous transformations for greater power.

"Perfectly transplanting magical beast bloodlines isn't easily achievable," Lady Reeve observed her nails, speaking coolly, "To gain extraordinary rewards, one must assume corresponding risks. Compared to the benefits of success, these risks are negligible."

Ronan's mind raced, considering his options.

He admitted he was tempted.

Especially with the Sacred Blood Tree now functional.

If he could transplant a suitable bloodline, then continuously purify it with the Sacred Blood Tree's ability, in time... how powerful could he become?!

Seeing his interest, Lady Reeve smiled, attempting to give him a final push with a suggestive tone, "A third option—if you're willing to leave an heir for the Cold Stone family, I'll fulfill all the previous offers unconditionally. You'll receive the best, with the experiment process and progress fully disclosed, until the bloodline transplantation technology is perfected to your satisfaction."

"Linus..."

Lady Reeve's gaze softened, honey-like eyes lingering on Ronan.

She reached out as if to caress Ronan's face, speaking softly, "Honestly, you remind me of my second husband... no, you're even more handsome and charming. I swear we could be great partners."

"Enough."

Ronan's abrupt words were like a sharp blade, shattering Lady Reeve's amorous overtures.

Her hand, poised to touch his cheek, stiffened mid-air, awkwardly.

"I'm not interested in any of that."

Ronan placed the rune stones back before Lady Reeve, speaking calmly, "Let's stick to our original agreement. That's sufficient."

Ronan cooled his grand ambitions.

Besides, who knew if a mere second-level wizard from a declining family could be trusted with "bloodline transplantation" technology?

Even if true, he didn't believe such a windfall could exist without hidden pitfalls.

Lady Reeve slowly withdrew her hand, her expression souring.

Being rejected is always embarrassing, especially when it's a romantic overture.

Lady Reeve took a deep breath, regaining composure, her demeanor towards Ronan turning cold.

"One last thing."

"I'm really not interested in unrelated matters," Ronan interrupted impatiently, "I just want to accomplish my goal at Cold Stone Manor quickly."

Lady Reeve stared at Ronan, sneering.

After a moment, she leaned forward, speaking in a low voice, "Are you not interested in Soraya either? You've been searching for her since entering White Stone Castle, haven't you?"

"Uh."

Ronan froze, astonished by Lady Reeve's words.

He stood there, bewildered, unsure how to respond.

At an obscure studio entrance, Lady Reeve whispered instructions to Ronan.

"...My grandmother is waiting inside for you. Don't attempt to deceive her; she's wiser and more powerful than you can imagine."

Ronan said nothing, pushing open the studio door.

Light from the hallway spilled over Ronan, casting a long shadow on the floor that quickly disappeared, blending into the room's darkness.

Ronan's eyes flickered as he took a deep breath, stepping inside.

"Click—"

The studio door closed behind him, plunging the room into profound darkness.

Ronan strained to discern the room's shape, but his exceptional vision failed to capture anything, and his mental power seemed absorbed by the surrounding darkness, yielding no feedback.

As he pondered his next move, a faint light suddenly illuminated the room.

Ronan squinted, seeing an elderly, frail woman seated on a high-backed chair, her back to him.

Before her was a painting of a young, beautiful brown-haired girl, with milk-white skin and sky-blue eyes.

The girl's feet were surrounded by blooming irises, their pale blue and purple petals swaying gently in the painted breeze.

Not only the flowers, but the girl in the painting also moved.

She gazed at Ronan with innocent, clear eyes, full of curiosity, as if scrutinizing him.

Gradually, the girl seemed unsatisfied with observing Ronan from afar, lifting her gown's hem, stepping out of the painting, and running toward Ronan, her voice like tinkling ice.

"Who are you? Why are you looking for Soraya? Which Soraya are you seeking?..."

The girl bombarded Ronan with rapid-fire questions.

Ronan opened his mouth, unsure how to respond.

Suddenly, the girl, about to reach him, halted, emitting a piercing, angry shriek, before being yanked back by unseen forces, flailing as she was sucked back into the painting.

The young girl clawed to escape the painting, as the elderly woman before it turned quietly.

In that instant, Ronan seemed to see six indescribable, dazzling lights, followed by a vast, oceanic mental power engulfing him.

A third-level wizard.

Ronan's mind registered the thought.

Kosti was also a third-level wizard but had never displayed her full power before him.

At that moment, he truly experienced the might and terror of a third-level wizard.

Ronan felt as if submerged in a deep ocean, his soul and body crushed by waves of overwhelming pressure.

"Boom@#"

Ronan's lips moved silently, casting one ice spell after another around him, only to see them form and collapse.

In his mental space, the [Frozen Ground] rune flashed repeatedly.

Finally, with the activation of the "Aerylith Ice Ring Necklace" around his neck, a thin, cold domain emanated from him, "struggling" to carve out a small space amidst the oppressive pressure.

As this domain emerged, Ronan felt a sudden lightness.

The overwhelming pressure receded like a tide, and the dazzling lights before him quickly dimmed.

Ronan finally saw the third-level wizard woman clearly.

She wasn't as old as he imagined, just thin, with her long gray-brown hair tied up, her face lined with wrinkles, deep blue eyes... bearing a strong resemblance to the girl in the painting.

While Ronan studied the woman, he felt a slight tug at his neck as the ice ring necklace he wore freed itself from his robe, floating upward.

He didn't stop it, allowing the necklace to detach and fly towards the woman, who gently caught it.

"[Frozen Ground], ice ring, Aerylith's necklace."

The woman murmured, her gaze shifting to Ronan, "Who is Carlos to you? Why did he leave everything to you?"

Ronan took a deep breath, calming his tumultuous emotions.

He wasn't mistaken; the woman before him was the Soraya he sought.

When he had been searching for someone named "Soraya" in White Stone Castle, he had imagined such a scenario might occur, though he hadn't expected it to come so suddenly.

"I don't know Carlos," Ronan shook his head, producing a metal box containing a snow-white envelope, stepping forward to the woman, speaking calmly, "I'm merely a messenger, forgive me for opening the box without permission."