Chapter 39: Bloodline Gift (Part 2)
“Silence!”
“You must submit to me pletely.”
Cassius fully unleashed his anding aura, causing a heavy, oppressive force to desd upon every minio.
Wyverns, the chimera, ogres—all instinctively borostrated themselves.
Once all his minions were lowered to the ground, the red dragon Cassius slowly used his ake an incision on his palm.
His palm, g scales but covered in thick, resilient skin, was hard even for him to cut open.
The cut widened, and warm blood began to flow from the wound, gathering and dripping down.
“Drip. ”
“Drip. ”
“Drip. ”
The crimson blood tinuously trickled onto the massive stone, pooling in the shallow iion.
All the minioheir heads bowed low, with an air of silence filling the surroundings.
No one dared to gnce upward, not even by act, fearing the dragon’s wrath.
“Bloodline Gift.”
Cassius murmured.
With his will activating the special ability, an unusual power within his aura ected him to the blood.
Instantly, Cassius sehat the flowing blood was no longer i but closely lio his body and bloodline.
It felt like aension of his essence, reag further and deeper.
As the blood fully transformed, he felt a portion of his strength being divided.
But it wasn’t a mere act of giving; it was like sowing seeds that would, upon “blooming,” eventually give ba.
The still-warm blood in the iion began to flow gently.
tained within it was an unimaginable power.
This was the Gifted Blood.
The minions didn’t know the progress of the ritual or its success, so they kept their heads down.
The air in the valley was nearly stagnant, with thousands of creatures crowding together yet in perfect silence.
Finally, Cassius broke the silence himself.
“You may rise.”
At their master’s and, the minions sighed in relief, standing up en masse.
But as they noticed the pool of flowing crimson blood in the iion, they all held their breaths, brimming with nervous anticipation.
Who wouldn’t want to be the lucky one granted long life and powerful strength?
“Langpu.”
Cassius called the first name.
This ogre mage was the red dragon’s appoieward, a rare spellcaster among monsters, and instrumental in the Ember ’s development. Even more valuable was his unwavering loyalty, devoted to Cassius’s grand vision.
Cassius needed him to embody strength and authority, a positive example for the other monsters.
Langpu adjusted his gsses, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, as if he had anticipated being chosen.
But truthfully, he’d been shaking with nerves, barely taining his excitement when Cassius called his name, f himself to look posed.
Langpu cmbered onto the stone, waiting silently.
The blood rose up, flowing toward the ogre’s mouth.
Only a portion of the blood entered Langpu’s mouth—far from enough for the three-meter-tall ogre.
Normally, he could drink the blood of aire mammoth.
Yet, as soon as the “Gifted Blood” entered his mouth, Langpu’s body began to shake violently.
His mass of flesh trembled tinuously.
“Ah—”
Elemental energy surged down his throat.
The ogre’s eyes turned red, his face twisted in agony, and his massive mouth opened wide, abandoning all pretense of posure.
The bzing fire element burned down into his stomach, infming his belly like a raging inferno inside him.
Ogres boasted iron stomachs, capable of digesting anything, but for the first time, Langpu felt an unbearable pain in his gut.
“It’s burning, burning!”
Langpu colpsed to the ground, writhing in agony, his huge frame rolling and thrashing as he pouhe stoo relieve his torment.
His fists hammered the rock with resounding booms as the dragon blood ed within him.
In his vulsions, the blood infused with elemental energy umped by his heart, ready to transform his entire body.
*Panting heavily,* he y sprawled oone, his massive body bloated and red-hot, wisps of steam rising from his skin, like an overinfted balloon on the brink of bursting.
The dragon’s power was almost too great for the lowly ogre’s bloodline.
Langpu’s growls turo faint whimpers, and his eyes regained crity as his life force waned.
The dragon blood greedily drained his vitality, filling him with a torrent of elemental energy.
Was it failing?
Cassius said nothing, watg in silence.
If Langpu perished, Cassius would regret losing a useful subordinate, but only that.
The res ched their clubs, anxious for their elder’s survival. Though ogres felt little kinship, they still hoped for the survival of the one who always “found food” for them.
Meanwhile, the hobgoblin leader Dolo watched with bated breath.
He had been stifled by Langpu for too long, and if the ogre died, he could seize the ce to rise, being the true steward of the Ember .
The thought brought a slight smirk to Dolo’s face.
Just then, something ued happened.
“Ah—”
After a long silehe ogre roared out.
He crouched on all fours in a strange posture, his swollen body tinuing to expand as he greedily absorbed the surrounding energy, leaving the air around him dry.
One breath.
Two breaths.
Three breaths.
His body swelled and shrank with each breath.
His form expanded from three meters to four, then over five meters before finally stopping.
Spiny ridges emerged along his back.
His hands a sharperansf into something akin ton cws.
His thick skin cracked, splitting open to reveal newly grown, hardened red scales underh, like a snake shedding its skin.
Cassius noticed that the ogre mage wasn’t passively receiving the transformation but eling the elemental energy within the dragon blood to struct a “fireball” spell model inside his body, drawing even more deeply from the dragon blood.
It was a high-risk move but promised immense rewards.
And thanks to Langpu’s dedicated study, his spell trol had reached an astonishing level.
