CHAPTER 78: THE NEW HEIR [4]

Ferick descended from the wagon first, his boots meeting the ground with deliberate heaviness.

He glanced back, just in time to see Alaric step down with quiet grace, boots hardly making a sound.

Then he turned, his expression calm, and extended a hand toward the carriage.

Selene tilted her head slightly, a faint glint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

As she understood the gesture and the unspoken implication behind it. Still, she didn’t hesitate. Slipping her hand into his, she descended with practiced elegance.

Ferick’s jaw twitched. He had been watching the entire exchange with a barely-contained scowl.

"Can’t you just get down yourself?" he snapped, voice sharp. "Why are you taking his hand or something?"

Selene didn’t miss a beat.

"Come now, husband," she said sweetly, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "My nephew is simply helping me. Why are you so tense?"

Her voice was laced with honey, but the mockery behind the word nephew didn’t go unnoticed.

Then without waiting for a reply, she moved forward, steps light and unbothered. Alaric fell into stride beside her, hands casually resting in his pocket.

Ferick muttered something under his breath, grunted, and followed a step behind, his posture rigid.

The guards remained by the wagon with the coachman, offering no comment.

The sun had nearly vanished beyond the rooftops now, casting the chapel ahead in a deep orange glow.

The church doors groaned open, revealing a sanctuary bathed in amber light filtering through stained glass windows.

At the far end stood two statues, tall and commanding.

The first was a majestic phoenix carved in white-gold marble, wings spread wide as if to shield the world, each feather tipped in crimson. Its eyes, made of amber, seemed almost alive, burning with eternal vigilance.

Below its talons, an inscription read:

Ashurael, the Divine Phoenix – Guardian of Truth and Flames.

Beside it stood a robed figure cloaked in starlight granite, face hidden beneath a hood, arms outstretched to the heavens. The statue radiated a calm, boundless presence.

The Creator – Bringer of Order, Weaver of Realm

At the foot of these twin deities, a middle-aged priest in white robes stood lighting a small set of candles. His robe bore the same phoenix insignia stitched in golden thread across the chest.

He turned upon hearing footsteps.

"Ah, Baron Ferick," he said with a slight bow. "And Lady Selene." He inclined his head respectfully.

"Father Lior," Selene said curtly, then gestured to the altar. "Let’s get on with it."

The priest nodded and turned to a nearby pedestal.

From a locked chest, he withdrew a rectangular slab made of blackened obsidian, etched with intricate runes. Its center had a shallow basin lined with silver.

He placed it reverently upon the central pedestal between the twin statues.

And then began to murmur sacred chants under his breath.

The runes flickered faintly as he finished. Then he looked up.

"You may offer your blood to the Flame of Inheritance."

Ferick stepped forward without ceremony and pricked his thumb with a ceremonial dagger, letting a drop of blood fall into the basin.

Alaric followed, silent and watchful. He did the same.

The moment their blood touched the obsidian slab, a ripple passed through the runes, and then—

Fwoosh!

Orange flames burst forth, coiling and dancing above the basin without consuming it.

The fire blazed for a heartbeat longer... then vanished.

The blood was gone.

The priest gave a small nod.

"It is done. By the will of the Flame and the blessing of the Divine Phoenix, the inheritance ritual is now complete."

[Ding!]

[Congratulations! You have gained a new title: Prince of Blackthorn]

Alaric looked at the system prompt, but didn’t said anything.

Then Selene offered a graceful bow toward the priest, her voice soft as she said, "Thank you, Father. May the Divine Flame bless you."

The priest gave a slight nod, his wrinkled face lighting up with a smile. "And may Ashurael guide your household in truth and strength."

She shared a few courteous words with him, idle pleasantries about the harvest festival and the repairs to the old chapel roof before turning back.

Together, the three of them exited the church and climbed into the wagon once more.

By the time they returned to the estate, night had fallen. The sky was a velvet canvas, dotted with stars, and the pale moon hung low above the spires of the manor.

Once the wagon halted inside the inner courtyard, they all descended and began heading inside.

"Had the room been prepared?" Selene asked one of the waiting maids.

"Yes, my lady."

The maid then turned and gestured politely toward Alaric. "Please follow me, young master. I’ll show you to your quarters."

Alaric nodded wordlessly and followed her through a side corridor, passing a few maids who paused to bow.

The estate had quieted down for the night, lamplight flickered in sconces along the walls, casting long shadows over polished stone.

Finally, she stopped at a modest wooden door and opened it.

"This will be your room, young master."

Alaric stepped inside.

The room wasn’t large, but it was neat and well-kept.

A carved oak bed stood against the wall, covered in fresh linens.

A small table beside it held a ceramic jug and basin.

A lone window overlooked the courtyard below, and a wardrobe stood tucked into the corner.

He gave a faint nod. "Thank you."

The maid bowed again and quietly shut the door behind her.

Click!

Alaric exhaled and looked around one last time before moving to the bed, loosening the collar of his shirt.

Just as he was about to collapse onto his bed, a translucent screen materialized before his eyes.

[Bloodline potential detected in host’s genetic structure]

Alaric blinked, startled by the sudden appearance.

[Does the host wish to awaken dormant bloodline: Vinculum Regia (Legendary)]

He stared at the message.

A grin slowly spread across his lips.

"Why would I refuse such a generous offer?"

"Yes."

The moment the word escaped his lips, intricate runes began etching themselves across his skin like living tattoos.

[Initiating bloodline awakening... 1%... 7%... 18%...]

Then the agony hit him like a sledgehammer.

"Argh!"

He clutched his head as soul-splitting pain tore through every fiber of his being. His body writhed uncontrollably as his veins began to glow with an otherworldly light.

Drip! Drip!

Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, staining the floor beneath him.

[30%... 45%...]

As the process continued, his torment only grew.

Suddenly he went still. His thrashing stopped. Eyes rolled back, becoming completely white—no iris, no pupil, just blank orbs staring at nothing.

Then—

A reddish-purple thread emerged from his chest, writhing like a living thing before completely enveloping his motionless form.

[WARNING! WARNING!]

[Unknown interference detected in bloodline awakening process!]

[WARNING!]

[Bloodline awakening destabilized.]

[WARNING!]

[WARNING!]

[...]

[BLOODLINE AWAKENING FAILED!]

Then the mystical thread that had cocooned him suddenly loosened and dissolved into nothingness.

Thud!

Alaric’s body hit the floor with a sickening sound, completely motionless.