Aelion's gaze remained locked with Samuel's, the weight of his question hanging between them. "What is the Sublimation Realm?" he repeated, his voice steady, demanding the crucial context for the immense power the shop was offering.
Samuel chuckled, a low, resonant sound that held a note of approval.
"When someone awakens a talent in Euloria, the system grants them a single day—a mere twenty-four hours—within the Sublimation Realm as a foundational gift. It is a sacred space for pioneers."
He paused, his ancient eyes holding Aelion's with unwavering intensity.
"Your feats within that realm, the boundaries you push and the insights you grasp, are recorded as Achievements. These are not like the achievements of the tutorial. They are permanent, resonant markers of your potential. You can then use these Achievements to strengthen your body, temper your soul, refine your mana, and yes, even evolve your very talent."
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips.
"Of course, achieving perfect synergy between all these aspects is another matter entirely, a lifelong pursuit. But within the Sublimation Realm, the only true limit, initially, is your imagination and your allotted time. Use it carefully. There is, however, one fundamental rule: you cannot level up in there. It is not a place for accumulating raw power, but for mastering its essence and deepening your comprehension."
Saying this, Samuel's expression shifted, his smile becoming brighter, almost challenging.
"I can grant you a unique boon. I can let you enter the Sublimation Realm two weeks from now. So, with this knowledge, choose your path carefully."
Aelion's eyes widened as the staggering advantage became clear. Euloria would open for everyone in six months.
That was when the masses would awaken their talents and receive their single, precious day in the Sublimation Realm.
He was being offered not only early access but the means to extend it exponentially.
He could enter that state of pure potential months before his rivals, with the ability to compound that time into what would feel like years of focused, foundational training.
It was an opportunity to build an unassailable lead before the true competition had even begun.
Without a moment's hesitation, his mind made up with the cold, decisive clarity of a grand strategist, Aelion navigated the shop interface.
In a series of swift, decisive actions, he purchased six [Time Extending Ticket - Sublimation Realm (1 month)] tickets.
The cost was staggering—six million of his hard-won points vanished in an instant, leaving his balance at a mere one million.
He turned his gaze back to Samuel, a silent plea for guidance on how to best utilize the remaining points, his eyes hoping for a hint about the other mysterious items in the shop.
Samuel, however, simply chuckled and shook his head, his expression a mix of fondness and finality.
"After today, I do not think we will meet again, not like this. Our paths may cross in Euloria, but the dynamic will be different. I cannot spoon-feed you every decision. The choices you make now, with the resources you have, will define the master you become. Trust the instinct that brought you this far. Make your own decisions."
Aelion absorbed this, the last vestige of reliance on external aid falling away. He gave a single, serious nod.
The path ahead was his alone to walk.
He looked at the remaining points and the shop listings, his mind already calculating, prioritizing, and preparing for the solitude of the sublime.
Aelion stood in the profound silence of the throne room, the weight of Samuel's words settling upon him.
He was alone now, with a vast fortune of points and the burden of a future that was far more vast and terrifying than he had ever imagined.
He pushed the swirling emotions—the fury at the Council's betrayal, the shock of the impending Ascension, the strange melancholy of Samuel's farewell—into a deep, locked chamber of his mind.
Right now, he needed the cold, calculating precision of a tactician.
He thought carefully, weighing the options in the shop against the monumental advantage of the Sublimation Realm.
The [Talent Enhancement Stone] was tempting, but his primary goal was to maximize his time in that sacred space.
He could work on his talent directly there. What he would need was a robust foundation to build upon.
With decisive clarity, he invested a significant portion of his remaining points into a suite of [Stat Enhancing Pills], substances that would fortify his core attributes—strength, vitality, and mana capacity—providing a stronger base for the deep, transformative work to come.
With the last of his points, he acquired a selection of high-grade potions for healing and mana restoration, essential utilities for any serious endeavor.
His preparations complete, he finally looked at Samuel.
He saw it then, a faint, deep-seated melancholy in the being's ancient eyes, a sorrow that seemed as old as the stars themselves.
As if in response to Aelion's gaze, Samuel's eyes began to glow with an inner radiance.
The air around him shimmered, and six magnificent halos of light materialized behind him, each one containing a swirling, ethereal manifestation of a legendary creature.
A Pheonix wreathed in immortal flame.
A Dragon coiled with primordial power.
A Titan embodying unyielding earth.
A Fox of beguiling cunning.
A Qilin of pure benevolence.
A Crane representing transcendent longevity.
The pride and power in their spectral eyes were unmistakable, a council of myths and legends.
Yet, despite their grandeur, their postures were subtly, undeniably subservient to Samuel.
Samuel's voice was low, resonant with a gravity that shook the very foundations of the digital space. "This," he intoned, "is the true power of the [Heart of True Bloodlines]. These are the ancestral spirits, the pillars of our lineage, bound to the heart's bearer. I… haven't managed to excavate its full potential. I hope you can do it."
He paused, his gaze piercing Aelion's soul. "The [Heart of True Bloodlines] is…" A profound silence hung for a moment, "...my heart."
Aelion's own heart dropped into a void.
Of all the revelations, all the impossible truths he had learned, this was among the most profound and horrifying.
The ultimate reward from his trial was not an object, but the still-beating heart of the being before him.
An untold fury—at the cruelty of the system, at Samuel's sacrifice—and a profound, aching sadness settled in his chest.
He took a single, sharp breath, and with a force of will that was becoming his defining trait, he expelled the turbulent emotions from his system.
When he looked up, his eyes were frighteningly cold, his expression that of a flawless machine assessing data.
Samuel observed this transformation and gave a slow, approving nod. "That's good. You shouldn't get so emotional. Not here. Not yet."
"Why," Aelion asked, his voice as flat and cold as his gaze, "are you helping me?"
Samuel looked at him for a long, silent time, as if weighing the fate of worlds in his answer. "Because," he said finally, the words simple yet earth-shattering, "we are of the same bloodline."
The statement sent Aelion's mind into a cataclysm of shock, unraveling every assumption he had ever held about his family, his identity, and his place in the cosmos.
His mind was still reeling, desperately trying to process this final, monumental truth, when Samuel's form began to fade, dissolving into motes of golden light until the throne was empty, leaving Aelion alone with a stolen heart, a terrifying legacy, and a future hurtling toward him with the speed of destiny.