A night's talk clears the doubts at the ancestral shrine

The aroma of dinner still lingered in the old residence's courtyard. The bowls and chopsticks on the stone table had been put away, and even the last traces of soup had been wiped clean. The evening breeze carried the rustle of Chinese parasol leaves, bringing the slight chill of a summer night into the courtyard. Cicadas called back and forth in the branches, making the night seem all the more tranquil. Hillman had taken Wharton to see the fine sword he had newly brought back. The boy skipped along, his clear laughter drifting into the distance. Now and then, his childish cry rang out: "Uncle, look! I can lift it!" Hillman praised him again and again, his voice full of affection.

Linley sat on a stone stool in the courtyard, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the glass teacup in his hands. A little of the tea's warmth still lingered on its surface. The Biluochun tea inside had gone completely cold, but he did not notice. The smile of their reunion still shone in his eyes, yet the question about dragon blood in his heart was like a stone dropped into the center of a lake, sending out widening ripples and growing ever clearer.

He had long known from the clan records that members of the Baruch Clan whose bloodline concentration met the required threshold could awaken the power of dragon blood themselves, without any external aid. When Wharton had said that afternoon that he could transform without dragon blood or blue heart grass, Linley had been delighted but not surprised. After all, the liveliness in his younger brother's eyes and his innate sense of strength both spoke of the purity of his bloodline. What truly puzzled him was his father Hogg's awakening. Back then, his father's bloodline concentration had not met the standard for internal awakening, so he must have taken the path of external awakening. Where, then, had the necessary dragon blood come from? Even the lowest-grade dragon clan essence blood was a treasure almost impossible to buy on the continent, no matter how much gold one offered.

Just then, Hogg walked over, carrying a wine gourd worn to a shine. Simple cloud patterns were carved into its body; at a glance, it was clearly an old possession he had carried for years. He sat on the stone stool opposite Linley and casually set the gourd on the stone stand beside him. A plate of dried wild hawthorn berries, Wharton's favorite snack, also sat there. "Something on your mind?" Hogg's voice was deep and mellow, carrying a gentleness tempered by the years. He had seen through his son's thoughts at a glance.

Linley looked up at the faint signs of weathering at his father's temples and the eyes that had grown even sharper since his dragon blood awakened. He nodded and asked frankly, "Father, I know Wharton could awaken on his own because his bloodline was pure enough. But where did the dragon blood you used for your awakening come from? Dragon blood is incredibly rare. It isn't something you can obtain easily."

A trace of reminiscence flashed through Hogg's eyes. He pulled the stopper from the wine gourd, and a rich aroma immediately spread through the air. Tilting his head back, he took a drink. The fiery liquor slid down his throat, making his gaze all the clearer. He set the gourd down and looked toward the ancestral shrine. Moonlight fell across his profile, outlining a measure of world-weariness. His voice was low and slow, as though he were recounting something long buried in the past. "That story begins when you left to enroll at the Ernst Institute."

"That year, you had just stepped through the institute's gates, carrying a heavy pack, your eyes full of hopes for the future. Your admission brought joy to the household. We laid out three full tables of food and invited the neighbors from town over to celebrate. But awakening my bloodline remained a weight on my mind. The Baruch family hadn't prospered yet. We lived off a few acres of poor farmland. Watching your magical talent emerge day by day, I felt both proud and anxious. I kept wanting to give you shelter, yet I couldn't even awaken my own bloodline. I didn't even have the means to let you study free of worry."

"After watching you leave, Hillman came to find me that very night. We sat in this courtyard and drank until morning. He said he couldn't go on wasting his years guarding the old residence. He said that since you were going to the institute to pursue the path of magic, he would venture into the Magical Beast Forest to temper himself. He would find an opportunity to help me awaken my bloodline, so the Baruch family could truly stand firm and you wouldn't have to suffer the slightest mistreatment out in the world."

Linley's fingertips paused, and memories surged up at once. He remembered Uncle Hillman standing at the village entrance to see him off on the day he left for the institute, patting his shoulder and saying, "Study hard. I'll be waiting for you to come home." Back then, he had been so caught up in imagining life at the institute that he had failed to notice the resolve and determination hidden in his uncle's eyes. All along, beyond his knowledge, someone had already been holding up a sheltering sky for him.

"He left Fenlai City the next day, carrying the longsword that had been with him for years. With little money for the journey, he plunged straight into the Magical Beast Forest, where danger lurked everywhere." Hogg's voice grew slightly hoarse, as though he had recalled those days of constant anxiety. "He was gone for two whole years. During that time, he only sent two letters home through passing caravans. The paper was crumpled, the handwriting scrawled. He said everything was well and told us not to worry, but he never mentioned any of the dangers he encountered in the forest. Every time I received a letter, I would stare at it for ages. At night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, afraid something might happen to him, afraid I would never receive word of his return."

"He only returned half a month ago, after breaking through to Saint-level." Barely concealed amazement flashed in Hogg's eyes, and his voice unconsciously rose, as though he could not suppress his excitement. "In Mist Canyon, deep in the Magical Beast Forest, he encountered an adult Back-Spined Iron-Armored Dragon. That creature was a level nine magical beast, one that could be called the strongest below Saint-level. Its iron armor was impervious to blades and spears, and it could even withstand direct magical bombardment. Its breath could melt refined steel. Any ordinary warrior below Saint-level who encountered it would face certain death, without any room to maneuver."

Linley's breath abruptly caught. His fingers tightened around the teacup, his knuckles turning white, and his heart began pounding uncontrollably. Saint-level! He had seen that term countless times in the institute's books. It was a pinnacle that countless warriors could not reach even after striving their entire lives. Uncle Hillman, who always liked to ruffle his hair and call him "little rascal" with a smile, had actually reached such heights. Indescribable excitement and admiration surged through him, making even his cheeks grow slightly hot.

"Hillman didn't explain in detail how he became acquainted with the Back-Spined Iron-Armored Dragon. He only said they appreciated one another." Hogg continued slowly, his voice full of feeling. "That Back-Spined Iron-Armored Dragon was perceptive and had long since developed intelligence. It was unlike ordinary savage beasts. After learning why Hillman had come, it actually agreed generously and offered him a few drops of its own essence blood. You have to understand, dragon clan essence blood is part of their very life essence. Losing even a few drops takes a tremendous toll. An ordinary person couldn't obtain such an opportunity even by offering mountains of gold and silver."

"And that wasn't all. Many unusual flowers and herbs grew deep within Mist Canyon to begin with. During his stay there, Hillman also found a large patch of blue heart grass. He brought back half a sack, enough to last our family a long time," Hogg added, his voice full of relief.

Linley stared at his father in a daze. The doubts in his heart vanished at once, leaving only surging emotions. He could not imagine what perseverance and good fortune had enabled Uncle Hillman to break through to Saint-level in the Magical Beast Forest, win the friendship of a level nine magical beast, and even find rare blue heart grass. It was truly a legendary experience.

"Oh, right." Suddenly remembering something, Linley added, "While I was looking through materials in the institute's ancient texts section this time, I found a record of blue heart grass. It happens to be able to neutralize the violent nature of dragon blood."

"You're right." Hogg took up the thread, his gaze growing more solemn and his tone more serious. "Blue heart grass is tremendously useful. The power contained in dragon blood is far too overbearing, carrying the innate ferocity of dragons. If you activate it directly, the bloodline's power will turn violently against your own body. At best, all your meridians will rupture, leaving you crippled for life. At worst, your body will explode on the spot, leaving not even an intact corpse. Only blue heart grass can completely neutralize the overbearing power in dragon blood and make it gentle. That was how I could absorb the dragon blood steadily and complete my bloodline awakening step by step, without suffering any lingering effects."

Linley nodded firmly. It felt as though something had filled his chest, warm through and through. Uncle Hillman had silently given so much for his father's awakening, for the entire Baruch family.

"Afterward, I used those two things to awaken my bloodline. Only then did I have the confidence to lead the family in taking caravan escort jobs, and only then did we attain the life we have today." Hogg patted his shoulder with a steady hand, carrying a father's particular hopes. "Linley, nothing in this world comes for free. You must remember what your uncle has done for us."

Linley clenched his fists, his fingertips paling with the force. His eyes shone brilliantly with intertwined excitement and admiration. "I understand, Father."

Just then, Doehring Cowart's voice sounded in his mind, carrying a trace of amazement and filled with solemnity. "The essence blood of a level nine magical beast, paired with blue heart grass from Mist Canyon. This Hillman possesses both courage and wisdom, and values loyalty and affection even more. It is your good fortune to have someone like him protecting the Baruch family."

Linley did not reply. He merely raised his head to look at the night sky. Stars dotted the heavens, and the bright moonlight illuminated the old residence's courtyard as well as the upturned eaves of the ancestral shrine.

In the distance, Wharton's laughter continued. Hillman's affectionate voice mingled with the evening breeze, composing the warmest of melodies.