Westheid drank a Magic Potion, then downed three or four more in quick succession. His decisiveness was so startling that Yolanda didn't even react at first, thinking they were just ordinary buffing potions.
She grew pale with fright only when she saw clearly what Westheid was actually drinking.
"Brother?! What are you doing?!"
"Cough! COUGH, COUGH, COUGH..."
The effect of the Magic Potions was immediate. Or rather, drinking several potions with conflicting properties in such a short time triggered a violent reaction within Westheid's body.
It felt as if his internal organs were being seared by roaring flames, and scalding blood surged backward through his limbs and bones.
The intense agony forced Westheid to his knees. He coughed up mouthfuls of filthy blood, and cracks appeared on his skin. Yolanda watched in a panic, terrified the Patriarch would drop dead on the spot right in front of her.
"I'll take you to the Holy Hall right now! Brother, you have to hold on!"
"No need! No need..."
Westheid refused Yolanda's attempt to carry him, shaking his head firmly.
"Cough, cough... I'm fine. Relax."
The pain—like fire evaporating the blood in his veins, his organs twisting together—was almost enough to make him pass out. It distorted the man's handsome face into an abstract mask, yet he still managed to bare his teeth in a grin.
"This is it, hehe... COUGH, COUGH, COUGH! This is the only way to get a real rush! Power! I can feel it flowing through me!"
'Is he insane? Chugging these power-bursting Magic Potions with severe side effects like they're juice?'
But the words died in her throat.
Westheid, who had looked like he was about to drop dead just a moment ago, was now slowly forcing himself to his feet. The cracks in his skin were closing, healing completely, leaving only dried blood behind.
Westheid was still spitting up great mouthfuls of bloody filth mixed with bits of his organs. At a glance, it looked like he was about to breathe his last, but these horrific injuries would appear and then heal over and over again—and his complexion was even becoming ruddier!
"Ptooey! Yolanda, bring me the rest of the Magic Potions. The Tears of the Furnace, that bottle. Give it to me!"
Spitting out the blood that had gurgled up in his mouth, Westheid held out his hand.
After a moment's hesitation, Yolanda expressionlessly handed the potential-awakening agent, known euphemistically as the "suicide potion," to Westheid.
He downed it in one go, completely ignoring that these potions were designed only to give a person a last-ditch chance to fight back when on the verge of death.
One after another, Westheid eagerly consumed all the Magic Potions. He then convulsed on the floor for a long time due to the side effects before finally clambering up, drenched in sweat.
"Ughhh..."
Stretching comfortably, Westheid felt his bones CREAK AND GROAN. A majestic power roared through his veins, begging to be unleashed.
Every last drop of essence from all the Magic Potions and concoctions had been greedily absorbed by the cells in his body.
Marvelous. Absolutely marvelous.
"Brother, would you please explain?"
Seeing Westheid full of life and vigor after recklessly consuming enough Magic Potions to kill him a hundred times over, Yolanda could no longer contain her curiosity and asked.
"It's the Qinghui Bloodline. My bloodline Talent has undergone a secondary awakening."
Westheid lied without batting an eye.
'I'd already figured out how to explain the Talent I had acquired.'
'Don't ask! If anyone asks, it's a Talent of the Qinghui Bloodline!'
So-called Talents and acquired Specialties were two different things. The former was an ability one was almost born with, mostly inherited through bloodlines, which was most common among the nobility.
A secondary awakening was a further sublimation of an original bloodline Talent, achieved through one's own accomplishments and efforts.
Reiya was a prime example. The original Talent possessed by the Royal Family was merely Tier T1, but the Silver-haired Dragon Lady, through her own superhuman willpower, had forcibly elevated it into the unique Tier T0 Talent, Withered Glory Sun.
For any noble bloodline, a bloodline awakening was an event of monumental significance.
Countless nobles exhausted themselves with eugenics and genetic Ascension, all in the hopes that a genius with a secondary awakening would appear among their descendants.
"A bloodline awakening?!"
Sure enough, Yolanda was stunned for a moment, then became ecstatic.
"So that's it! You had a secondary awakening of your bloodline Talent, which is why you're so confident. Brother, you should have told me sooner. Then I wouldn't have misunderstood you."
'She changed her tune so quickly. Not an ounce of shame!'
Westheid couldn't help but marvel at Yolanda's... purity.
Yolanda continued, "But is this the effect of the Qinghui Bloodline's secondary awakening? Such rapid regeneration? Hmm, the Purity Forest must be protecting us!"
'Don't even. How could a piece of trash like the Qinghui Bloodline compare to Withered Glory Sun?'
'That bloodline Talent, In Purity, is a total joke. It's so bad it makes me laugh... Based on its stat bonuses alone, it is indeed a Tier T1 Talent.'
'But this Earth-bound Spirit Talent only works inside the Purity Forest. Mechanically, it's been dragged through the mud.'
'Perhaps a secondary awakening of the Qinghui Bloodline could just barely touch Tier T0, but claiming it could rival Withered Glory Sun is wishful thinking.'
Every Talent rated as Tier T0 has astonishing characteristics and unexpected surprises.
Some people might not understand the concept of "extreme regeneration and adaptation."
It wasn't just about high life recovery and Status resistance; those were merely the strengths one could glean from a literal reading.
It also meant possessing the most abundant Life Force, enough to be squandered and abused at will. Anything that didn't kill him would only make him stronger.
He could freely chug those concoctions and Magic Potions that came at the cost of ravaging the body. Not only was there no penalty, but their Extraordinary components would permanently improve his constitution. Withered Glory Sun had quite the double standard, retaining any change that would elevate his level of life.
It wasn't just Magic Potions; he could even tough out and negate the cursed costs of most forbidden rituals.
'It's just that for something like a forbidden ritual... first, I don't have time to prepare, and second, it's not wise to do it under the nose of a Celestial God.'
That was why Westheid had settled for the next best thing: downing all the buffing concoctions and strengthening Magic Potions he could. Improving his strength was an urgent matter; he was sick and tired of this weak body.
"Yolanda, let's spar. I want to see how much stronger I've gotten!"
Westheid's hands were itching for a fight. He was so eager that he even dared to challenge Yolanda, who was a whole Tier above him.
"As you command. Please follow me."
The Fairy-like, platinum-blonde girl nodded and led Westheid to the mansion's rear courtyard. Yolanda took out the sword at her waist but didn't draw the blade, merely holding the scabbard as she spoke to Westheid.
"Brother, please attack me with all your strength."
Westheid didn't think Yolanda was looking down on him. She was at the peak of the Prominent Tier, just a hair's breadth away from the Tier Four Exemplar. The gap between them was absurdly large. By not fighting back, she could better gauge Westheid's true strength.
Picking up a sharpened longsword from the side, Westheid took a deep breath and slightly bent his knees. The next moment, a sonic boom accompanied his rapid charge.
"CLANG—"
The sound of metal violently colliding erupted along with a shockwave that kicked up dust. The blade of Westheid's powerful downward swing struck Yolanda's scabbard, letting out an ear-ringing shriek.
"BANG—"
The elegant, platinum-blonde girl flicked her finger, and the scabbard deflected Westheid's blade with a surprisingly slight movement.
The instant his blade was deflected, however, Westheid immediately swung again.
Slashes and chops rained down like a tempest, almost too fast for the naked eye to follow.
"CRACK—"
Finally, after one ferocious slash, Westheid's blade was snapped by Yolanda's scabbard.
Westheid looked at the easily broken blade and said:
"It was not I, but the weapon."
'It's not that I'm weak, the weapon is just crap.'
Surprise shone in Yolanda's deep violet eyes as she commented:
"That level of strength and speed is already comparable to a Tier Three who specializes in melee combat."
"Unfortunately, you are still at the Elite Tier. After all, you still need 'Merit' to advance..."
Westheid tossed the broken sword onto the lawn. "That's why we're going to the Secret Realm Trial. It's the fastest shortcut."
In the Extraordinary System of "Poem of Destiny," every Tier was clearly defined. To cross from one Tier to the next, the required resource for promotion was [Merit].
[Origin], [Elite], [Prominent], [Exemplar], [Hero], [Legend]... To cross each Tier, one needed to accumulate enough [Merit].
[Merit] could be earned in many ways. Dutifully fulfilling one's responsibilities counted as [Merit]; defeating a powerful enemy counted as [Merit]; even mass slaughter counted as [Merit]... Any recognized act of strength was considered [Merit].
But there were also different qualities of [Merit], and this difference determined the speed of one's advancement.
Pleasing the Divine Ancestor in the Secret Realm Trial was also a form of [Merit]—and a top-grade one at that.
"Obtaining [Merit] in the Secret Realm Trial is certainly one way. Before, earning the Divine Ancestor's favor in the Trial would have been debatable, but now that your bloodline Talent has had a secondary awakening, it might not be impossible."
Yolanda agreed, her attitude shifting with incredible smoothness. You couldn't tell at all that just a few days ago, she had been mocking Westheid for his wishful thinking.
"So, Brother, you don't want to accept aid because you want to revive the family by your own strength, without incurring a massive debt?"
With "Westheid's secondary awakening" as the premise, Yolanda's train of thought shifted, and she began to find reasons for Westheid's actions.
"...If you insist on understanding it that way, you're not exactly wrong."
Westheid said meaningfully, "Debts of favor are the hardest to repay, especially debts to the Imperial Center. Unless it's absolutely necessary, it's best we don't owe any."
"Brother, you don't want to get too entangled with the Imperial Center? That makes sense. The autocratic territory of the Branch of Prosperity was established outside the Imperial Central System. We want to rebuild the Qinghui Territory, but we absolutely cannot lose our independence. If we accept too much aid, it will be difficult to refuse their interference and influence... Brother, you truly are farsighted."
Yolanda analyzed seriously.
'No, no, no, you've completely misunderstood.'
'I just don't want to owe anyone any favors. In the future era of conflict, when the Celestial Gods are absent, the Imperial situation will become extremely chaotic. With the Withered and Flourishing Dragon Emperor holding down the fort, the Imperial forces might be able to hold on, but if I manage to run off with Reiya, the entire Empire will inevitably fall apart.'
'The rebuilt Qinghui Territory has no need to get involved. Peacefully managing our own foundation is the proper path.'
However, Westheid couldn't just tell Yolanda about the major events of the future, so he changed the subject.
"Enough about that. I haven't trained in combat for a long time. Help me warm up before the Trial."
"As you command, Brother. Your martial arts have grown rusty during this time, but it doesn't matter. With just a few days, I am more than capable of helping you recall them."
Yolanda drew her sword from its scabbard, turned sideways, and took a step back, assuming a standard dueling stance.