A bloodline isn't something you cultivate, nor is it some power you can earn by injecting yourself with Ancient genetic serums. It is not a skill to be learned or a technique to be mastered through repetition.
No, a bloodline is something far more fundamental. It is something one is born with. It is a mutation in the blood, an anomaly in the very blueprint of one's cells that grants the user special abilities and transcendent traits, setting them apart from the moment of their birth.
Now, bloodlines themselves weren't impossibly rare. Dravin knew from his predecessor's memories that the geniuses of ancient, powerful families often possessed them.
These bloodlines, passed down through generations and awakened through secret methods, could be cultivated to greatly enhance the user's strength, granting them a significant advantage over their peers.
However, bloodlines were graded just like Astra Souls, and anything above an A-rank was a treasure of incredible rarity, a legendary trait that appeared perhaps once in a generation within the entire Galaxux Country. For Dravin to have so easily acquired not just an S-rank bloodline, but one with a name as domineering as the 'Crimson Thunder God' from a simple lottery spin… it was incredibly lucky.
He stood in the dim, three-mooned light of the cave, his laughter having subsided into a quiet, simmering excitement.
He closed his eyes and focused inward, deeper into his body and not his meridians or muscles.
He could feel it instantly. His cells that were usually saturated with attributeless energy, now contained a violent nature within them.
As he focused deep into his cells, faint, microscopic crackles of thunder began to form deep within the mitochondria of his cells.
As his cells vibrated with greater intensity, the crackles grew louder, merging into a coherent, powerful hum that resonated through his bones.
The energy overflowed, spilling from the microscopic to the macroscopic.
Tiny, ethereal arcs of lightning began to form on the surface of his skin, dancing over his arms like thunder snakes. He raised his right hand, extending his index finger, and willed the energy to gather there.
He hadn't even exerted any real strength yet, but his cells, which had been fundamentally transformed into what he could only describe as 'thunder cells,' were ecstatic.
They eagerly released their power, as though wanting nothing more than to burst forth in a wave of immense destruction and annihilate everything around him.
At first, the lightning that gathered at his fingertip was a soft, pale blue, crackling gently.
Then, as he pushed a little more of his will into it, it deepened into a rich, royal purple.
Finally, as he truly exerted his force, channeling the core essence of his new bloodline, the thunder on his fingertip flared and transformed into a brilliant, pure crimson.
He began to control it, to play with it. Thin tendrils of crimson thunder began to dance around his fingers, striking the molecules in the air.
Dravin made them spiral, made them spark, made them form a small, crackling orb in his palm.
With every moment, his control grew sharper, his mastery deepening.
And, of course, the system was watching.
[Practice of 'Crimson Thunder God' bloodline detected.]
[Random multiplier activated: 300x!]
['Bloodline Control' proficiency has reached Initial Stage <15.00%>]
[Ding! Random multiplier activated: 1,200x!]
['Bloodline Control' proficiency has reached Initial Stage <32.00%>]
[Ding! Random multiplier activated: 4,899x!]
['Bloodline Control' proficiency has reached Initial Stage <55.00%>]
In a matter of minutes, he had achieved a level of control that would have taken a naturally born bloodline user years, perhaps even decades, to attain. If he had been cultivating this power as seriously as he had his cleaver art, he could only imagine how advanced his control would have become.
But this was enough for now. It was time to test a real skill.
He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto the massive, lifeless corpse of the Tyrant Silverback Bear across the cave. He tapped deep into the wellspring of power within his cells and activated his first innate bloodline skill: Crimson Bolt.
"Crackle!"
A massive amount of energy surged from every cell in his body, a tidal wave of pure, crimson lightning that converged in his right arm. The energy gathered around his outstretched fingers, compressing and solidifying, twisting and forming itself into the shape of a short, deadly spear forged from pure, solidified thunder. The air around the bolt crackled and hissed, and the ground beneath his feet began to smoke from the sheer ambient energy.
In the next second, he threw it.
There was no sound of whooshing air, only a silent, instantaneous flash of crimson light.
The bolt of lightning crossed the distance in less than a nanosecond. It didn't just pierce the tough, Rank-5-equivalent hide of the dead bear; it vaporized a perfectly round, fist-sized hole straight through its torso.
But it didn't stop.
The crimson bolt exited the other side of the bear, its power wasn't reduced in the slightest.
It then slammed into the far wall of the cave.
There was no explosion, no shower of rock. It simply pierced through the thick stone as if it were wet paper, leaving another perfectly cauterized, glowing red hole in its wake.
The bolt shot out of the cave and into the primordial jungle, a crimson streak that tore through the twilight before vanishing from Dravin's sight. He didn't even get to see where it landed or if it ever stopped at all.
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, a delayed, deafening BOOM echoed from the distance, a sonic boom from the bolt breaking the sound barrier, followed by the faint sound of crashing trees.
Dravin stared at the smoking hole in the bear, then at the perfectly circular hole in the cave wall, his mind completely blank.
The power was… absurd. It was a level of destructive force he couldn't have even dreamed of just hours ago.
However, in the next second, a profound, hollowed-out fatigue suddenly washed over him.
His knees felt weak, and a wave of dizziness made him sway. It was the feeling of having his energy reserves completely and utterly drained in a single, instant. It was a sense of fatigue so deep it was as though he came three times in an hour.
Panting heavily, he leaned against the cave wall for support.
He was happy with the result. But he knew he couldn't use a skill like that recklessly.
The power of the bloodline was directly tied to the strength of his body and his energy reserves.
When he grew strong enough, when his foundation was deeper and his energy pool vaster, only then would he be able to wield the power of a Thunder God with ease.
But for now, his level 7 Super soldier strength was enough.