Wizard Bloodline

During Ronan's early apprentice days, he experienced two moments when his life was entirely controlled by others, leading to despair and helplessness. One of these experiences was with Laura, and the other... with Anglair.

These two left deep shadows in Ronan's heart, becoming insurmountable walls.

Later, Ronan shattered one of those walls, leaving only Anglair before him.

The purpose of this journey, along with everything and everyone around him, seemed insignificant to Ronan now.

His focus was solely on Anglair, with a singular thought in his mind and something within him igniting—a spark that quickly became an intense flame, enveloping Ronan entirely.

Then, just as swiftly, it was contained, along with all unrelated emotions and thoughts, sinking rapidly to the depths of his mind...

His talent, [Lake of No Thought]!

Ronan's eyes turned a serene lake blue, freezing over without any ripples, like mirrors reflecting Anglair's figure.

His gray-silver robe fluttered lightly as Ronan crossed half the battlefield in a single stride, like a sword, its edge aimed directly at Anglair.

Anglair seemed to be waiting for him, much like their first encounter.

He watched Ronan approach, his face hidden under the black cloak silently smiling, gazing at Ronan as if he were a ripe fruit ready to be picked.

However, just as Ronan neared, the battle intent between them suddenly halted.

Anglair appeared to receive a message, producing a communication stone. His eyes flickered beneath the hood, shifting his gaze from Ronan to the black-lipped wizard beside him, whispering instructions.

Afterward, Anglair gave Ronan a long look, then turned and swiftly departed in another direction.

"Anglair."

In his [Lake of No Thought] state, Ronan showed no expression, driven by obsession, pursuing Anglair's retreating figure.

But he was soon blocked by another figure.

A mid-second-level wizard, nearing late-second-level, stood before Ronan, releasing powerful spiritual energy like an expanding shadow.

"Though I don't know why a mere first-level wizard like you is of such interest to the master..."

The black-robed man looked down at Ronan, black lips pressed tight, his voice cold and emanating from deep within.

"But the master said to give you a proper welcome."

With that, his eyes gleamed like black diamonds, summoning a massive wave of black energy, releasing immense spell pressure toward Ronan.

This was the same dark spell he used to suppress the Fredrick family's core group of second-level wizards.

Even now, the silver-haired youth and his group felt the lingering fear, instinctively retreating, despite not being the target.

Faced with the oncoming wave, forming various grotesque shapes, Ronan seemed unfazed, continuing straight ahead without deviation.

Under his robe, a white, slender arm rose, making a horizontal slashing motion.

Black liquid metal flowed along his arm, bursting from his fingertips, transforming into a brilliant silver-white arc, like molten silver rapidly cooling in the air, forming a massive crescent blade.

The silver blade paused briefly, accumulating unseen momentum, then erupted with mysterious force, becoming engulfed in blue flames.

"Swish—"

The crescent silver blade, wrapped in blue fire, shot forward, colliding with the black wave.

Without resistance, the massive black wave split silently, the blue-flamed silver blade closing in on the black-robed man.

His pupils contracted, his corpse-like pale face showing a rare flicker of expression.

He retreated, raising energy shields, but they were sliced through like butter by the advancing blade.

A sudden sense of danger gripped him as he saw the blue flames on the silver blade extinguish, replaced by bright red glows.

The crescent blade seemed superheated, vibrating violently, on the verge of explosion!

"Not good!"

The black-robed man's expression tensed, producing two black spheres, which he crushed in his hands.

"Boom!"

The crescent blade exploded into a brilliant silver firework, the shockwave tearing through the air, unleashing chaotic turbulence.

A thick black barrier, like an eggshell, formed around the black-robed man, withstanding the blast, shaking but unmoved.

"Crack—"

The black barrier shattered, and the black-robed man emerged, cold and imposing, his black robe fluttering ominously.

But before his aura could stabilize, it froze as his gaze locked onto a figure approaching him.

A tall, graceful figure walked through the void, the air beneath turning to a frozen lake, deep blue veins extending outward.

Two rotating ice spheres and two pure white ice blades, along with several spells, orbited him, three different extraordinary domains intertwining.

The black-robed man's lips parted slightly.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely.

He watched the frost-adorned figure approach, calmly passing by him.

At that moment…

The power of three domains combined, the force of twelve spell anchors expanding silently, enveloping him.

An indescribable coldness, like an ancient glacier shattering, engulfed the black-robed man in a white torrent.

When the deep blue and white cold vanished…

Everyone saw—

A massive ice block suspended in the air, with a black-robed figure frozen in shock within.

The ice fell silently, crashing with a loud thud.

Meanwhile, the white-haired youth was already a distant speck in the sky.

His path remained unchanged, a straight line.

He bypassed the black-robed obstacle as if kicking a small stone aside, the entire exchange lasting no more than two moves.

The battlefield fell silent.

Only the occasional slide of snow from branches broke the stillness.

No one spoke; Fredrick family wizards and the black-robed ones alike were enveloped in shock.

The Fredrick family core members, led by the silver-haired youth, were stunned, staring at the departing white-haired youth, their minds repeating one thought: "Is this really a Kachin man?!"

An imposing, rugged peak, thinly veiled in snow, surrounded by low white pines, where a tall red-haired woman stood, gazing at the distant, tumultuous third-level battlefield.

"Whoosh—"

A figure descended, stepping on transparent ripples, landing beside the woman.

"You're here."

The red-haired woman glanced at the newcomer, greeting him casually.

The newcomer nodded, removing his hood.

A young, pale-faced man appeared.

Short brown hair, neither handsome nor unattractive.

But his blood-red eyes, intricate black rune markings, and innate malevolence added an indescribable charm.

"What's the situation?"

The young man asked softly, eyes on the distant battle.

His red eyes reflected spells and three massive deep blue snake shadows.

"I've confirmed," the red-haired woman replied. "You're out of luck. What you wanted was consumed by the Frost-scaled Pythons."

"If we catch them, we might extract some remnants from their flesh."

"But several local third-level wizards are hunting them. Stealing from them won't be easy."

"Four third-levels," the young man squinted, eyes flickering, murmuring after a while, "Plus a third-level beast, it's not easy."

"Forget it."

He turned his gaze away, saying, "I was just passing by. It wasn't urgent."

"Gather everyone, let's go."

The red-haired woman nodded, preparing to leave, but the young man paused, examining a glowing communication stone in surprise, uttering a soft "Oh?"

"What is it?"

The red-haired woman asked.

The young man smiled, "Nothing, just something interesting."

"A seed I planted long ago has grown into a thriving tree, bearing tempting fruit."

He inhaled deeply, face blissful, "I can almost taste the juice bursting from a bite."

"Careful not to break your teeth."

The red-haired woman warned, "Remember Gattuso, who you once stepped on. Back then, you were just a minor character in his eyes."

"Really?"

The young man grinned brightly, "If that happens, it would be interesting."

He walked back, stepping into the sky, musing, "So few interesting things in the world. The Black Mire bores me now, no pressure, no rivals."

"Can you understand, Belle?"

The red-haired woman caught up, speaking quickly, "After the Mirror Court opens, your emptiness will be filled."

"Hope so."

With a soft sigh, they vanished into the sky.

Ronan sped through the snowy forest, wind lifting his robe and white hair.

Suddenly.

He stopped, icy eyes cracking slightly.

Ronan retrieved a glowing communication stone, gripping it, eyes forward.

After a few breaths, his gaze thawed, leaving [Lake of No Thought], returning to normal.

"Anglair."

He whispered, eyes flashing, then calming.

"Next time... leave this battle for next time."

He hadn't expected to meet Anglair here, nor had Anglair expected him.

Neither at their best, the battle's intensity couldn't ignite fully—unsatisfying for both.

Neither wanted that.

Ronan inhaled, pressing the stone's glow, responding.

He waited a moment until Soraya appeared.

She approached rapidly, Ronan meeting her halfway. She only said, "Let's go."

Ronan nodded, enveloped in Soraya's mental power, departing swiftly.

Cold Stone Manor.

In a rune-laden chamber, Soraya stood before Ronan, her palm suspended above a deep red, bluish blood mass.

A snake's shadow flickered within, faint hissing echoing in the room.

"Unexpected circumstances arose. The third-level Frost-scaled Python was severely injured before we arrived."

"As a result, the essence blood's quality is lower than expected."

Soraya frowned, recounting the hunt's details to Ronan.

Thanks to Brother A Dan for the alliance, much appreciated~