Chapter 11: The Unintended Awakening

Stepping inside the great tree, a sense of unease gnawed at Qi Lin. After all, he had come here to treat his amnesia, but the crucial point was that he wasn’t actually suffering from memory loss, which made the whole situation a truly vexing predicament.

“No need to be nervous, just relax.” As if sensing Qi Lin’s tense emotions, the Elder offered a comforting tone.

‘The problem is, I *can’t* relax!’ Qi Lin managed a somewhat stiff smile in response to the Elder’s words.

After everyone entered the house, the Elder pulled over four wooden stools. She kept one for herself and offered the remaining three to the others before settling down.

“Speak, why have you sought this Elder?”

With a delicate yawn, the Elder languidly observed the group.

Aali was the first to speak. “Elder Sylph, it’s like this: this child has lost his memory, so we were hoping you could help him!”

Qi Lin, indicated by Aali, offered Elder Sylph a polite smile.

Hearing Aali’s words, Elder Sylph nodded knowingly.

“I see, I understand. Let us begin then!”

With those words, Elder Sylph’s languid demeanor vanished, replaced by a sudden burst of enthusiasm as she rose to her feet.

Under Elder Sylph’s gaze, an inexplicable feeling crept over Qi Lin: this Elder seemed rather unreliable.

“Yes, Elder, we place our trust in you!” Mayor Manrot, who had been silent for some time, respectfully addressed Elder Sylph from the side.

In response, Elder Sylph waved a dismissive hand, indicating it was a trifle, then stood before Qi Lin, their gazes locking.

‘The inevitable has arrived. I just don’t know how I’ll explain myself once this ‘treatment’ is over.’

A bitter thought stirred within Qi Lin as he met the gaze of the elven Elder, Sylph.

He should have considered Aali’s question more carefully back then; now, it was too late for regrets. He could only wonder how they would react once the truth came out.

While Qi Lin remained lost in thought, a brilliant, fluorescent green radiance illuminated the entire wooden house.

Raising her hands to rest on Qi Lin’s forehead, Elder Sylph began to softly chant a string of obscure, incomprehensible words:

“Oh, Holy God of Nature, your kin pray to you; help this poor child! (Elven)”

The fluorescent green light, hitherto diffused throughout the cabin, began to coalesce, slowly transforming into slender beams that pierced directly into Qi Lin’s forehead.

‘This was it!’

As the light streamed into his forehead, a bitter sigh escaped Qi Lin’s lips.

A low hum began to resonate within his mind, and gradually, Qi Lin lost all perception of ambient sounds, as if struck deaf.

Observing Qi Lin’s slightly reddened, unfocused eyes, Elder Sylph felt a pang of confusion. What was happening? Could the intensity not be enough?

Pondering her doubts, Elder Sylph recited the incantation once more, this time imbuing it with greater force.

Suddenly, a thunderous boom erupted from the vicinity of Qi Lin’s heart.

A rhythmic thrumming, like a distant drum, began to reverberate throughout the wooden house, emanating unmistakably from Qi Lin’s chest.

“Elder, what is happening?” Hearing the drumming, Aali anxiously questioned Elder Sylph.

Taking several steps back to shield Aali and Manrot, Elder Sylph shook her head at Aali, indicating she had no idea what was occurring.

Witnessing Elder Sylph’s bewildered shake of the head, Aali could only gaze anxiously at the strangely afflicted Qi Lin, silently offering prayers for him.

Just moments before the drumming commenced, Qi Lin had already succumbed to unconsciousness.

A distinct ‘thump’ echoed in his ears, and Qi Lin felt himself beginning to sink, as if drowning.

When his consciousness finally returned, his surroundings had dramatically shifted; he was no longer in the wooden house of the elven Elder.

“Where am I?”

Qi Lin stared, utterly bewildered, at the unfamiliar environment around him.

‘Did I… transmigrate again?’

Standing atop an expanse of unknown red liquid, Qi Lin pondered within himself.

As he took a few steps forward, ripples spread across the liquid beneath his feet, reminiscent of skipping stones across water in his childhood.

“Hey, is anyone there?” Cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, Qi Lin shouted.

“Hey, is anyone there! Is anyone there! Anyone! Anyone!”

Echoes upon echoes reverberated throughout the space.

“Where, exactly, is this place?”

After several shouts yielded only his own echoes, Qi Lin crouched down, gazing at the red liquid beneath his feet—a substance he could see but not touch—and murmured softly.

Having stared at the liquid for a long time, and utterly failing to discern its nature, Qi Lin finally stood up.

He surveyed the pure white expanse around him, then, unable to resist, glanced down at his feet once more, and froze.

‘Was it his imagination, or did the liquid beneath his feet seem to writhe?’

Rubbing his eyes, Qi Lin stood stock-still, scrutinizing the liquid intently.

‘Yes, he was certain; he hadn’t been mistaken. The liquid beneath his feet was indeed writhing.’

A look of grim confirmation on his face, Qi Lin nodded, then abruptly broke into a run.

With a whoosh, the writhing liquid no longer concealed itself, instantly transforming into tendrils that shot forth.

Dozens of steel-like tendrils writhed, and in mere moments, they had coiled themselves tightly around Qi Lin, who had only managed a few steps.

More and more tendrils erupted from the liquid, ensnaring Qi Lin until, in less than an instant, he was encased in a cocoon.

‘I’m dead!’ This was Qi Lin’s last thought before losing consciousness once more.

****

A blood-red full moon hung suspended in the sky.

Within a resplendent, golden castle, a silver-haired Maiden with scarlet eyes sat upon a throne befitting a monarch.

Her gaze, filled with haughty pride, swept over the civil and military officials standing below the throne.

“Is there anything you wish to say?” The Maiden’s cool, clear voice questioned a golden-haired Youth standing below.

“Your Majesty, I… I deserve death, but please… spare my family!” The questioned Youth fell to his knees with a thud, bowing his head repeatedly as he stammered.

Just as the Maiden opened her mouth to speak, her eyes suddenly unfocused, and she stared blankly ahead.

Beside the throne, an Old Man noticed the Maiden’s change and gently called out, “Your Majesty? Is something amiss?”

Snapping back to awareness, a flicker of complex emotion crossed the Maiden’s eyes. She shook her head at the Old Man, then looked at the Youth still kneeling and kowtowing. “Very well,” she declared, “considering you have shed blood and tears for the nation, I shall spare your family.”

Upon hearing this, the Youth was overcome with uncontrollable emotion.

“However, while death may be averted, punishment cannot be escaped. Your clan shall be exiled to the remote territories! As for you… Guards, take him away.”

With a soft command from the Maiden, two burly, armored guards entered the hall and led the Youth away.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, thank you, Your Majesty!”

As he was escorted out of the hall, the Youth continuously offered his thanks to the Maiden.

“Since there are no further matters, the court is dismissed!”

****

With a sharp crack, a fissure appeared in the cocoon, and Qi Lin slowly tumbled out.

As consciousness returned, Qi Lin found his mind imbued with new knowledge—knowledge concerning the Bloodline race.

“My head hurts so much!” Clutching his head, which throbbed from the abrupt influx of Bloodline lore, Qi Lin slowly came to.

With his left eye closed, Qi Lin sat upon the liquid, no longer fearing the writhing tendrils.

He knew where he was now, and with a touch of resentment, Qi Lin gazed at the liquid beneath his feet. “This is too brutal! Is this how all Bloodline inheritances are acquired?”

The place he now inhabited was called the Bloodline Space, a magical energy domain much like those possessed by many other sentient beings. Should this space ever deplete, one would be unable to cast magic, making it an inherent possession of every Bloodline member, their very foundation for existence.

Furthermore, each race had its own unique way of referring to these magical energy spaces, and their functionalities also differed.

The recent experience of being layered and cocooned had been the process of awakening his Blood Mark.

As for the sudden awakening, it was due to the magical energy wielded by the elven Elder, which had inadvertently triggered the Bloodline Space’s protective measures.

As a nascent Bloodline member, he should have acquired Bloodline knowledge gradually; however, the Elder’s magical energy had accelerated this process, granting him the knowledge prematurely.

In essence, it wasn’t a bad thing, though his head felt rather muddled, and an unsettling premonition lingered, hinting at something ominous to come.

Once the dizziness subsided, Qi Lin, still a novice in its use, painstakingly recited the incantation to depart the Bloodline Space.

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