Chapter 1355
Has his understanding of bloodline transplantation reached a level I can't even fathom? How is that possible...
Aside from the Thorned Crown, could anyone else be researching bloodline transplantation? Impossible. The Thorned Crown has studied it for over a thousand years—no one could know more than us. So how does he know all these details?
He probably already knows my weakness, maybe even knows exactly when my eyes become useless each day, when my combat power plummets...
Things not even known within the Thorned Crown—he knows them all...
“Don’t look at me like that. Did you really think this was some kind of secret? Did you think only you could understand it? Bloodline transplantation itself is complicated and dangerous—more than that, it’s an act of desperation.
You’re not so bad. Even after transplanting the Crystal Fiend’s bloodline, you still walk the path of a mage—as support. But this one here, hmm, the guy with the Lava Giant bloodline, he’s on the bloodline sorcerer’s path. His strength, at Sky Rank Level 2, is already at its limit. He can’t go any further.
Unless you find a purer Lava Giant bloodline—at least Sky Rank Level 3—then you could advance to Sky Rank Level 3. After that, you’d need to hunt even purer blood. No, next you’d have to hunt a pureblood Lava Giant, and it would have to be at least Level 45. Only then would you have a chance to reach Sky Rank Level 4.
If fate favored you, maybe there’d be a sliver of hope to advance to Sky Rank Level 5. But that’s the absolute limit—until the end of your life, you’d never advance again...
And, the Lava Giant you hunted had impure blood—there’s even a trace of fire elemental beast in it. Every fight, you can only use eighty percent of your strength, right?”
At Leon's words, the mage beside him—at least two meters tall and swathed in a hooded black robe—began to tremble. Slowly, the figure lifted his hood, which shimmered with detection-blocking enchantments. Unless someone destroyed it outright, no one could possibly glimpse his true face.
As the hood was drawn back, a face emerged—flushed red, the skin fissured like volcanic stone, hair blazing like living fire, and eyes burning with a crimson glow.
The red-faced Bloodline Warlock stared at Leon, his features twisted in shock and terror. Every black-robed mage in the chamber turned to look at him, and even Maxwell’s eyes flickered with suspicion and unease.
The red-faced Bloodline Warlock parted his lips, his voice raspy and broken—like his vocal cords had been scorched by fire itself.
"You... How do you know all this...?"
Every member of the Thorned Crown who’s undergone bloodline transplantation carries some flaw—some more, some less. But these flaws are secrets kept even from their closest allies. If an outsider were to uncover them, it would be all too easy to conjure a dozen ways to exploit those weaknesses...
Maxwell looked utterly stunned, and the rest didn’t fare much better—every face in the room was frozen in disbelief.
Knowing Maxwell’s secrets is one thing—after all, we’ve been fighting for quite some time. When titans clash, a few cards inevitably get revealed. But to see through the secrets of a bloodline warlock who’s never lifted a finger, never even shown his face, and still wears a specially enchanted hooded robe—that’s a whole other kind of terrifying...
To be exposed so thoroughly—without ever having made a move—is a nightmare none of them ever expected.
It means that, if war breaks out, these Sky Rank Level 1 and Level 2 bloodline warlocks are nothing more than cabbages waiting to be harvested. With their flaws laid bare, Leon could slaughter any of them in a heartbeat...
The surrounding hooded Bloodline Warlocks, one after another, removed their hoods, exposing their faces. Few looked purely human anymore; most bore strange features—green-tinged skin, scales sprouting from their cheeks, and twisted, mutated visages.
Even those whose faces remained unchanged bore the marks of other creatures elsewhere on their bodies—claws, scales, or strange growths betraying their altered blood.
Their appearance often made them objects of scorn, especially the more grotesque ones, whom orthodox mages dismissed as monsters—no longer seen as human at all.
That’s why they always kept their hoods up, hiding their bodies and faces. But now, with Leon’s expertise laid bare, there was no point in concealing themselves any longer.
"Archmage Merlin, we’re willing to cooperate in exploring this plane. We only ask for the things that benefit us—the rest is yours."
We hope, when time allows, to discuss the matter of bloodline transplantation with you, Archmage Merlin."
A faint smile flickered across Maxwell’s face, as if he’d already forgotten his earlier shock and had regained his composure.
Leon sneered inwardly. Only the things that benefit you? How conveniently vague. Everything produced here is worth a fortune—enough purple gold coins to build a mountain. With a mountain of coin, what couldn’t you buy?
Everything here is useful to you, you sly foxes...
Still, it doesn’t matter. There’s plenty of time ahead—who can say what the future will bring? Having these Bloodline Warlocks as allies will certainly make exploring this plane much easier...
"Lord Maxwell, here’s to a fruitful partnership."