Bloodline Baptism

But then Eros realized that a family that had endured for tens of thousands of years surely had some high-sequence members, so he asked:

"What's the highest sequence in our family, then?"

The atmosphere suddenly fell quiet. Duke Renka, who had been feeling rather proud that only their family and the churches possessed complete advancement paths, froze.

Only after a long pause did he mutter, "Sequence 5, Firebearer!"

Eros could hardly believe it. A family with tens of thousands of years of history, a family whose ancestors had included a god, topped out at Sequence 5? We're done for! Absolutely screwed!

Duke Renka looked a little embarrassed, but he still explained:

"Our bloodline has grown too distant from its source. And over these tens of thousands of years, our high-sequence ancestors often died in battle covering the escape of lower-sequence family members before they could have children with purified bloodlines. It became a vicious cycle."

"But things have settled down now, so the family encourages everyone to have more children. If even one child with exceptional talent is born, that could change our current predicament."

So quantity was supposed to lead to quality? Still, Eros glanced at his father. This had better be the family's policy, not just you enjoying yourself.

Duke Renka did not notice the distrust in his son's eyes and continued:

"Another method is to follow the royal families' example and stop marrying outsiders. Even if that doesn't produce gifted children, at least our bloodline won't be diluted any further."

Eros stared at his father in surprise. Duke Renka looked rather helpless.

"It's a last resort. After all, having only a few Sequence 5 members supporting the family is far too dangerous for people like us."

Eros nodded. He could understand that, considering they were under pressure from several of the most powerful forces in the world.

Their family only had a few Sequence 5 members. If they were exposed, not a single one of them would likely escape this time.

Duke Renka explained a great deal along the way, and Eros listened to it all, gradually building a fuller understanding of the mystical world.

Finally, they stopped in front of an ancient, imposing, solemn church.

Walking ahead of him, Duke Renka pushed open the heavy doors that stood slightly ajar. A soft glow spilled out from the hall.

Quite a few people stood inside. Most were elderly, with graying hair and beards. Eros recognized some of them, but not the others.

Estelle was among them as well. When she saw him arrive, she gave him an encouraging smile, her gaze clear as water and full of tenderness.

After looking over the people, Eros noticed the statue at the far end of the hall, exuding mystery, majesty, and solemnity.

Understanding dawned on him. That must be the statue of our ancestor.

Having finished speaking with several of the elders, Duke Renka beckoned Eros over.

He then led him before the statue and offered a solemn prayer before having Eros kneel on one knee in the center of the floor, which was covered in mysterious symbols and patterns.

He nodded to the elders who were already waiting nearby and said in a grave, solemn voice, "Begin preparations for the bloodline baptism ritual!"

At his words, the elders took up the pieces of milky-white spirit marrow prepared beforehand.

They arranged them in a precise pattern along the mysterious designs winding across the floor.

As they set each piece in place, the mysterious symbols engraved in the floor lit up one after another.

While there was still time, Duke Renka began explaining what Eros needed to keep in mind.

There was little to remember. Essentially, because they were in their ancestor's world, this baptism would pose no danger.

All he had to do was follow the path that would appear before him and go as far as possible. The farther, the better.

Once Eros understood, he nodded to show that he had grasped the instructions.

Then he knelt quietly in place, his head lowered, waiting for what would happen next.

Time ticked by. At first, Eros felt nothing.

Gradually, however, he felt a warm current against his skin, seeping into his body through every limb and bone.

The warmth was so soothing that he grew drowsy. His eyelids kept drooping until they slowly closed.

Suddenly, Eros jolted awake. He remembered that he was still undergoing the baptism. He could not fall asleep.

He forced himself to focus, only to discover that he was somewhere unfamiliar.

Looking around, he saw nothing but mist and could not tell where he was.

The elders who had been waiting a short distance away for the results had all disappeared. He was the only one left standing there.

"Has the baptism already begun? But where's the path? Didn't Dad say a path would appear in front of me?"

Startled and puzzled, he gazed at the mist-filled space before him.

Outside!

Nearby, the family elders watched Eros, whose eyes had closed as he entered bloodline tracing, and gradually began talking in hushed voices.

They had high hopes for this child, who had shown exceptional intelligence from an early age.

They believed his talent as a warlock was probably the best they had seen in recent years. The only question was which ancestor's imprint within his bloodline he would encounter.

An old man wearing a monocle, his white hair meticulously combed, spoke slowly:

"In my opinion, little Eros should at least be able to see the bloodline imprint left by an ancestor five thousand years ago."

Everyone was taken aback. After all, five thousand years ago, the family had still had a Wanderer.

That was a Sequence 2 being, a mythic life that had transcended mortal limits and entered the realm of myth.

Was he saying that little Eros had the talent to become a mythic life?

Though they too had high hopes for little Eros, could their bloodline, now so thoroughly tainted, truly produce a mythic bloodline?

Searching their hearts, they knew it was almost impossible.

Even in the most ideal circumstances they could imagine, it would take several generations of effort, continually purifying the bloodline until it could support the birth of a mythic bloodline.

That would take a considerable amount of time, and every generation would need to produce a sufficiently gifted child.

Yet they could not dismiss this man's words. After all, the white-haired elder was one of the most senior family members present.

More importantly, he was one of the family's three remaining Sequence 5 members. They trusted that this elder would not speak without grounds. Did that mean...?

For a moment, excitement swept through them. How many years had it been since the family had produced a mythic life? Granted, having a mythic bloodline did not guarantee that someone would become a mythic life.

But that did not particularly concern them. Something impossible for others-

Might not be impossible for a family like theirs, with ten thousand years of accumulated resources.

Though millennia spent hiding and fleeing had consumed most of those reserves, what remained would still be enough to push someone to that level, provided they survived and had the talent to sustain it.

Although a single mythic life could not resolve the family's current predicament, it would at least give them some peace of mind.

After all, if they were exposed now, probably not a single member of the family would escape.

But with a mythic life among them, at least one or two might get away, ensuring that the family bloodline would not be completely extinguished.

Off to the side, Duke Renka was already grinning from ear to ear, sharing in the pride of his child's exceptional talent.

Estelle was not grinning as broadly as her husband, but a faint smile rested on her face. She was clearly delighted as well.

As more and more time passed, the milky-white spirit marrow arranged over the mysterious symbols was replaced again and again.

Yet no one present showed the slightest impatience. Instead, they only grew more excited and more exhilarated.