Wizard Bloodline

Ronan approached the statue-like stone pillar step by step and reached out to touch it.

It was rough, cold, indistinguishable from ordinary stone.

Tapping lightly, the pillar emitted a dull sound; it was solid.

A sweep of his mental power revealed no traces of runes, inside or out—everything matched the notebook's description.

Of course, to determine if it was indeed a Sanctuary Pillar, further verification was needed.

Ronan gently placed his hand on the statue's chest and began to recite an ancient, obscure incantation: "@#￥%...."

He had memorized the contents of the "Sanctuary" research notebook from Old Wells during his apprentice days.

The notebook recorded various secrets and techniques related to the "Sanctuary," but Ronan never understood what the "Sanctuary" truly was, rendering these techniques "dragon-slaying skills."

But now, with a probable "Sanctuary" before him, this knowledge found its purpose.

Yet, even after reciting the final syllable, the black pillar remained unresponsive.

Ronan showed no disappointment.

If it was a true "Sanctuary," its silence was expected.

A "Sanctuary" served as a container for the "Sanctuary Power." If intact and unopened, the statue's hands should be clasped inward.

The statue before him, with hands like small wings spread apart, indicated an opened Sanctuary.

An opened "Sanctuary" would not respond to the "opening incantation."

"Tap, tap, tap."

Ronan's fingers rhythmically tapped the pillar's surface, exhibiting patience. His mastery of [Basic Swordsmanship] allowed precise control of his physical power, evenly distributing force across the pillar.

Gradually, cracks appeared on the pillar's surface.

Lines of fractures spread across the pillar.

"Tap—"

With a crisp tap, cracks spread across the statue's face, centered on the upraised hands.

Fractures extended from the statue's eyes, seeping black liquid from the gaps.

The statue's expression turned sorrowful, as if Ronan's taps inflicted real pain, causing it to cry.

Seeing this, Ronan's calm demeanor showed a flicker of emotion, his eyes brightening.

He accelerated his tapping, the black liquid seeping more profusely, the statue's agony intensifying, seeming to twist in distress.

The fireballs Ronan had previously cast were long extinguished, leaving the vast pit in darkness. The eerie tapping, coupled with the bizarre scene, cast a sinister atmosphere.

With black liquid pooling at the pillar's base and the statue's struggles escalating as if coming to life, Ronan's eyes flashed with determination. After one final tap, he raised his right hand and struck the statue's chest forcefully.

"Ah!—"

The statue's expression twisted grotesquely, emitting a sharp scream, but in the next moment, it and the pillar exploded.

Ronan's hand darted out like lightning, precisely capturing a black object amid the debris, squeezing tightly.

"Ah!"

The scream echoed briefly before abruptly ceasing.

Ronan examined the black object—a nearly spherical form, smooth with a central slit as if cut by a blade.

In his hand, it felt cold and soft, reminiscent of a young girl's skin, even slightly pliable.

But once the scream faded, the softness vanished, the sphere hardening, its surface coarsening, resembling the shattered pillar's material.

"It's indeed a true Sanctuary," Ronan murmured, examining the black sphere.

Shaking it gently, liquid sloshed inside, yet no scent emerged.

Everything he did followed the "Sanctuary Notebook" instructions.

As for what the black sphere was, why it eluded third-level wizards' detection, and what the black liquid was—he knew not.

Only that this sphere, hidden within the statue, was the Sanctuary's core, key to storing "Sanctuary Power."

The unknown liquid inside held its own significance.

"Case closed, more or less."

Having gathered sufficient information, Ronan pieced together the truth in his mind.

"This place was likely an ancient Sanctuary storage site. Over time, the Sanctuary's power leaked, absorbed by the Pythons, leading to the emergence of the Ancient Ice Crystal Serpent bloodline."

"The awakened Pythons drew the attention of White Stone Castle's three wizard families, prompting a hunt. Meanwhile, Anglair's group, following Sanctuary clues, arrived."

"According to the notebook, once a Sanctuary is opened, its stored power dissipates over time, absorbed or not."

"Anglair knew this, and upon discovering the Pythons' anomaly, decisively left."

Ronan deduced the event's truth, though one point remained unclear.

Why were the Pythons, having absorbed the Sanctuary's power, so weakened as if after a great battle?

Having just awakened the Ancient Ice Crystal Serpent bloodline, they should have been strong, dominant in the forest.

The surrounding beast bones corroborated this.

How did they sustain such injuries? Was there a more formidable presence in the forest—a fourth-level Dawn Beast?

If so, the wizard families would have been aware.

"Forget it."

Ronan dismissed the thought.

The Sanctuary was opened, the Pythons who absorbed its power either dead or captured.

Seeking answers now was pointless.

However, Old Wells' notebook detailed using the current "Sanctuary" to locate the next "Sanctuary." Ronan could use his materials to lay groundwork for future exploration.

From what he knew, the Sanctuary's power seemed to induce beast bloodline evolution. What if a human absorbed it? Regardless, Ronan found it enticing.

"Shing..."

Following the notebook, Ronan chanted a low, ancient incantation.

The spell, infused with mental power, resonated like strings, creating ripples in the air.

The scattered black liquid from the shattered pillar rose, gathered by an unseen force before transforming into a slender translucent black line, extending upward from the nest.

Ronan surveyed the pit, ensuring nothing was left behind, then ascended, swiftly following the black line's lead.

This method indicated the nearest "Sanctuary" containing "Sanctuary Power."

Due to distance, the summoned black line often fell short of the next "Sanctuary," only pointing a general direction, requiring Ronan to search and repeatedly cast spells to pinpoint its location.

Currently, Ronan had no intention of immediately pursuing the next "Sanctuary," casting the spell merely to repurpose the black liquid waste.

Leaving the nest, Ronan watched the black line stretch southwest across the sky.

He observed, waiting for the line's eventual disappearance.

However...

As the line extended far, Ronan was about to look away when its direction abruptly shifted, plunging downward.

Ronan's pupils contracted, and he quickly followed the line's path.

Was the nearest "Sanctuary" right near the nest?!

Could such coincidence exist?

Ronan's heart raced with disbelief and anticipation, swiftly pursuing.

Wind whistled past as he focused intently on the line's trajectory.

He followed relentlessly, reaching a spot kilometers from the nest, watching the line vanish into a snowy hollow, then disappear.

Ronan halted, eyes examining the snow hollow where the line disappeared.

His mental power spread, soon detecting anomalies.

In the surrounding area, ice energy particles converged on the hollow, cold currents flowing downward.

Ronan's eyes glinted, summoning a fireball, absorbing sparse fire energy particles, growing larger.

When the fireball expanded to several meters in diameter, "Go!" Ronan hurled it at the convergence point of ice energy and cold currents.

The fireball whooshed through the air, its heat colliding with the cold, shrinking until it exploded at the brink of being consumed.

Rolling heat waves cleared the snow, steam rising, revealing the ground.

With the snow cleared, Ronan discovered a long rock crevice below.

The crevice spanned seven or eight meters, filled with thick ice. The guiding line vanished beneath the ice, its depth uncertain.

"Another Sanctuary beneath the surface?"

Ronan frowned but continued.

He summoned fireballs, bombarding the ice below.

As a second-level wizard, his casual fireball packed a punch, melting the crevice's ice layer. Meltwater flowed before refreezing into an "ice mountain."

At its center, Ronan's spells carved a pit, white steam billowing, spewing ice chips and snowflakes.

Ronan didn't know how long he dug, simultaneously descending.

His vast mental power pushed out ice and cold, preventing the opening from refreezing.

The crevice's depth was bone-chilling, dark, and fire energy particles were scarce. His fireballs grew smaller, weaker.

The guiding line hadn't ended, and Ronan hesitated.

"Poof—"

At the ice chasm's depth, Ronan cast another fireball, now barely larger than two fists. It struggled to melt ice, nearly extinguished by the cold.

Ronan hesitated, considering retreat.

Suddenly...

"Crack—"

A faint sound, like ice breaking, came from below.

Ronan reacted swiftly, tossing the fireball downward, eyes squinting to see in its light.

The orange glow barely illuminated the dark ice, revealing a massive oval object lying in the endless ice.

The guiding line penetrated it, his target close.

"Not a Sanctuary?!"

Ronan frowned, eyes flickering rapidly.

The oval object didn't resemble a Sanctuary altar, but the line led here—did it contain "Sanctuary Power"?

"Boom!"

Ronan quickly cast fireballs, using the explosions to examine the oval object.

Dark red, smooth, with blood-like patterns—a strange-looking... egg?

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