As the past events came pouring out one by one, Bolak actually felt a cathartic release of pain, venting all the frustration and depression that had accumulated over the past few years. Time trickled away second by second, and Bolak's memories gradually drew to a close. His soul, after the catharsis, became somewhat clearer, as if he had found the strength to move forward once more. The night was silent and deep. Bolak felt his soul drifting, merging with the profound darkness, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
"The contract is sealed. Once you awaken, you shall be a true Knight!"
The voice of the "greedy" demon drifted in and out of Bolak's ears, bringing him an ever-deeper drowsiness.
"The contract is sealed? I'm going to become a Knight!"
Bolak finally let go of what weighed on his heart and sank completely into deep slumber, enveloped in a thick shroud of darkness.
……
A cold November wind blew past, and the secret guard outside the study involuntarily shivered. Then he snapped fully awake, hearing a muffled voice from within:
"The contract is sealed. You have traded ten years of your life in exchange for the strength of a formal Knight, while retaining the possibility of advancing to Great Knight."
The fifth-rank Great Knight Frederick nodded slightly. It seemed Bolak had not sold his soul or the core interests of his family. "But why was I a bit dazed just now? Could it be that the arcane ritual produced some bizarre power that confused my will?"
Since there was no clock in the corridor, and he had also "forgotten" to check his pocket watch, he believed the earlier daze had lasted only a brief dozen seconds or so, and saw no problem with it. In many cases, spying on an arcane ritual would produce similar reactions—it was a self-protective mechanism of mysterious, transcendent power.
Sending his consciousness sweeping inside, he quietly listened to the strong heartbeat of "Bolak" within. Frederick was somewhat startled and thought to himself: "That's a Knight-level heartbeat? Bolak has actually become a formal Knight?"
"Just became a Knight," Bolak seemed unable to control his physical condition yet. Frederick was able to judge the "true" situation from his heartbeat, breathing, and other signs.
"Could that simple, almost childlike, baffling arcane ritual really have worked?" Frederick couldn't believe it, but "Bolak"'s current state eloquently proved the power of the bizarre ritual. A trace of greed quietly surged in his heart—he had been stuck at the threshold of Sky Knight for thirty years! "If I still can't find a path to breakthrough, I might try this arcane ritual too." Greed quickened his heartbeat.
……
In the study, Lucian, by the dim candlelight, gazed at himself in the mirror. His handsome, composed black hair and dark eyes had become sunny, handsome golden hair and blue eyes.
"The Plantagenet family truly lives up to its reputation as a family of beauties." Golden-haired, blue-eyed Lucian smiled and shook his head, reaching up to smooth his half-long hair. Fastening his collar and cuffs, the gloomy, somber "Bolak" immediately became radiant and vibrant, as if he had returned to the energetic, confident version of himself from five years ago.
In the many widely circulated stories and poems, the descriptions of the Plantagenet family, though exaggerated, absurd, and full of fabrication, were not wrong about one thing: the Plantagenet family were indeed descendants of the Sun King Thanos's bloodline. Beneath their ancient villa in Antifler lay Thanos's palace, which had long been guarded by a Golden Knight. This was the very underground palace Lucian wanted to infiltrate, so forcing his way in was not an option; he had to find another approach.
And the Plantagenet family had a tradition. When the time was right, they would cast a dozen or so inheritance candidates into this mysterious underground palace, to fight, cooperate, and explore within. The first winner to fulfill the requirements would become the primary heir. Inside the palace, except when the Magic Circle was activated to extract those on the verge of death, no Golden Knight or Sky Knight would intervene. Thus, the competition was extraordinarily fierce—some fought head-on, some struck from behind, some engaged in deception, some cooperated only to betray. Compounded by the palace's own mysterious dangers, every generation's winner was either powerfully strong or brilliantly resourceful, allowing the Plantagenet family to maintain its fierce competitive edge through bloodshed over the long term.
Over the last few decades, this method of selecting heirs had leaked unexpectedly. Nobles allied with the Plantagenets also cast their own children into the underground palace—partly to train them, partly to build relationships with the heir in advance. Meanwhile, many bored scions of other great noble houses would join in as well, for the nearly-real bloodshed could fill their dull, numbed lives with excitement. This also allowed "social" skills to play a greater role than before.
After observation, Lucian had chosen Bolak. He had intense desires and spiritual vulnerabilities, making him the easiest to "lure and deceive." Moreover, only the Plantagenet family's bloodline could open the inner layers, to reach the chamber within the palace that housed the "Celestial Orrery of Thanos." Were it not for the complex method of opening the chamber and the abstruse incantations, Lucian would have had Bolak go in his place to activate the arcane ritual, but now he had no choice but to do it himself.
After confirming in the mirror that his every gesture and movement was indistinguishable from Bolak's, Lucian turned his head to look at the hidden chamber he had spent two days constructing within the study, and smiled inwardly at the slumbering Bolak within: "When I have time, I'll come back and alter your bloodline!"
To allow someone who had advanced to Knight through external means to retain the possibility of becoming a Great Knight—there was only one way. And that was to use the Blood Origin of a high-ranking vampire to alter the bloodline in a manner similar to the "Embrace," which was precisely Lucian's current physical state. Initially, the mages' inspiration for bloodline modification had come from the vampires' "Embrace." At that time, they discovered that a bloodkin merely needed to inject their own Blood Origin, perform the Embrace, to produce offspring with the strength of a formal Knight—and with boundless growth potential. Though far slower than the original owner of the Blood Origin, one could still obtain power remarkably "easily." Thus the mages conceived a mad idea: to use this method to transform humans into carriers of other bloodlines.
But later they discovered that without the strength of will, modification alone could never produce a Great Knight. Even if one could modify the body to the level of a Sky Knight or even a Golden Knight, the result would be the collapse and explosion of the bloodline.
As for whether Bolak, after possessing a "vampire" bloodline, would be punished by the Plantagenet family or purified by the Church—that was no concern of Lucian's. The contract made no stipulation about which bloodlines were forbidden. In this regard, Lucian was no different from a cunning demon. And if Bolak was careful, the chances of being discovered were extremely low, because the Plantagenet family's lineage came from the Sun King Thanos—any bloodline connected to the celestial stars could be activated. There were the supreme ones like "Sun," "Silver Moon," and "Stars," as well as second-tier bloodlines like "Thanos" and other constellation bloodlines. Among them, "vampire" was similar to "Silver Moon"—unless one was caught in the act of "drinking blood," it was very difficult to distinguish upon careful examination.
Blowing out the candle, Lucian's eyes shimmered with a faint moonlight glow as he saw through the darkness. He pushed open the study door and walked toward the bedroom.
"The activated 'Silver Moon' bloodline…" In the shadows, Frederick nodded quietly. After the transformation, one could not use the other's innate abilities, but that did not mean one could not use one's own—especially since Lucian's "Moonlight" bloodline merged exceedingly well with the Plantagenet family's bloodline! From the very beginning, this had been Lucian's plan. He was not worried that Bolak would directly choose to become the Plantagenet Duke or a Great Knight. What result one chose often depended solely on how the options were framed.
……
In Frederick's eyes, after spending a few days "adapting" to the bloodline's abilities, Bolak had become active once more.
A splendid carriage rolled along the broad streets of Antifler. On the left side of the carriage was engraved the heraldic pattern of "the Sun shining upon the Plantagenet." The worldly-wise citizens of the imperial capital were scattered along both sides of the central boulevard, whispering among themselves as they guessed who the carriage's owner might be—was it the recently ascendant Alten, or the down-on-his-luck Bolak?
From the carriage's specifications, they immediately ruled out a Duke, Marquis, or Earl, for this was the rigidly conservative Holy Hertz Empire—there would be no breaches of etiquette among the nobility.
"Obviously it's that unfortunate fellow Bolak. Baron Alten is a Great Knight. He has his own independent coat of arms." One citizen declared with confident authority, his tone as warm and familiar as if he himself were a member of the Plantagenet family.
"Bolak hasn't been able to activate his bloodline power after all these years—he's worse than Riedel next door to me." Another citizen shook his head in disagreement. "Baron Alten is full of confidence about the Earldom of Tiris. He never uses his own independent coat of arms when going out—he's just waiting for the trial to end in a month, then he'll rightfully use the Golden Eye coat of arms."
The Earldom of Tiris was the title of the Plantagenet family's primary heir, much like the Valluet family's Earl of the Violet title. Its heraldic centerpiece was a golden eye. Yet that the Plantagenet family would hold a trial in a month's time should come from the mouth of an ordinary citizen—one could only marvel at how well-informed the imperial capital's citizens were.
Lowering the carriage curtain, Lucian withdrew his gaze and fastened the crisp white shirt cuffs, preparing to attend a banquet hosted by an Earl's son.
"Well, isn't this Bolak? I thought you'd gone missing!"
A voice dripping with obvious mockery came from the carriage to his left. Lucian lifted the curtain to see a dark red carriage running parallel to his own. In the window, a slightly pale face regarded "Bolak" with an eager, taunting smile, as if hoping to see him fly into a rage or sink into dejection.
"Duda, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
Lucian identified the owner of that pale, puffy face from the descriptions Bolak had given—the son of Earl Polti, once Bolak's profligate friend, now a loyal supporter of Alten. Duda saw Lucian's unhurried smile and his pupils contracted slightly, as if seeing the most spirited version of Bolak from years past. What on earth had happened to him these past few days?
"You'd actually come to Denis's banquet? Don't you know Alten will be bringing your Jocelyn tonight?"
Duda hated "Bolak"'s current demeanor. He desperately wanted to tear apart that gentle, elegant, confident mask and trample it underfoot.
"Must I avoid Alten? He's not the Golden Eye Earl yet, is he?"
Lucian answered without a ripple of emotion, neither servile nor arrogant. Jocelyn was the girl Bolak had secretly loved—the daughter of a Marquis. After great effort, he had finally won her heart and they had been on the verge of formalizing their engagement, only for Alten to steal her away. But none of this had anything to do with Lucian—it was perfectly natural for him to show no emotional change.
Seeing Lucian's deep, steady composure, Duda's right hand instinctively clenched. What on earth had he encountered? How could he have changed so dramatically in just a few days? No, not changed into someone else, but reverted to the original, dominant, confident Bolak—no, even more composed and confident than the original, as if everything was under his control.
Lucian lowered the curtain and closed his eyes, paying Duda no more mind, and let the carriage carry him gently toward Denis's garden villa.
Duda also withdrew his dark, brooding gaze, a sense of foreboding taking root in his heart. He must tell Alten at once!