Michel kicked my shin. "Stop mumbling. Mom will skin you if you' don't give a proper explanation this time."
I nodded, as thye have actualy given me time to reconsider my decision till the Bonding ceremony, eevn forming a bond with Raganr won't hinder me joing any orgainisation as Rank 7 is like average genius grade level bond.
"I told you—I have a great Master," I said, ignoring Michel's glare that screamed 'You're dead tonight.'
We arrived home to find the estate lit in warm hues, servants setting the table as our family gathered for dinner. Midway through the meal, my father nudged Mother. She set down her spoon, her gaze sharpening on me.
"Ash," she began, voice deceptively calm, "today was your decision. What path did you choose?"
The question wasn't expectation—it was fear. In high-mortality work like Solo Adventurers (43% death rate), parents begged the heavens their children would join the elite organizations where the death rate is close to none.
I exhaled. "Actually… I have a Master."
Silence. Then—
I waved my hand. A crystalline case materialized above my palm, its surface etched with runes. Both parents shot to their feet.
"That's—!"
"A Dimension Space," I finished. "—the kind only Supreme-Grade organizations possess. The true powers of this world, beyond petty continental factions."
Father's spoon clattered against the floor.
It was a perfect lie. The Tower of Wisdom, one of those supreme organizations, guarded dimensional storage as their exclusive privilege—only their members received it. This fabrication would keep my parents from pestering me to join lesser groups.
"You should have said so earlier," Father murmured, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Why didn't you bring your Master home?"
I shrugged. "He only came to teach me, then left. But he gave me gifts."
Opening the crystalline case, I revealed a small green vial swirling with vivid colors. "This is the Verdant Dryad bloodline."
Silence thickened.
"An Apex-grade bloodline," I emphasized.
Their breaths hitched. Bloodlines were legacies—priceless inheritances passed through bloodlines. An Apex-grade bloodline stood at the pinnacle of such gifts, a treasure beyond even major organizations' reach.
In this world, one could only obtain a bloodline through:
Birthright (inherited from ancestors)
Divine Favor (near-impossible luck)
Supreme Power Intervention (what I claimed happened)
"You can have it," I said, tossing the vial to Michel. Though limited to peak Apex-rank, it was powerful enough for my sister's needs.
"WHAT?!" All three of them jolted as if electrocuted.
Father paled. "Your Master gifted this?! What if he demands retribution?" His fear was justified—any being who could casually discard an Apex bloodline could crush our city with a thought.
Mother clutched the table edge. "He's right! This is too—"
"It's fine," I interrupted. "My Master gave me a choice: use it or find my own. If I reach Knight-rank's peak without one, he'll provide another."
Then, the final blow:
"He even lets me travel through spatial tunnels."
This revelation made both parents freeze. Spatial travel meant my fictitious Master was at least Tyrant-rank—a being second only to the world's absolute peak.
"And the one he provides will be even better," I added, shrugging. "He let me use this bloodline as I wish—so I'm giving it to her."
Michel stared at the vial in her hands, trembling. This wasn't just a gift; it was a legacy—something she'd never dreamed of holding.
"Ash…" Mother's voice cracked as she pulled me into a crushing hug. "You're so…" She couldn't finish, but her tears said enough.
Father crossed his arms, smug pride etching his face. "Of course he did. That's my son," he declared, as if he'd predicted this all along.
Michel remained silent, clutching the vial like it might vanish. For once, the brat had no sarcastic comeback—just wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Okay then, use it now—before I change my mind," I joked, though this was no laughing matter. If word leaked that we possessed a bloodline vial, our entire family could be slaughtered within hours.
The mood shifted instantly. Father sealed the room with six layered barriers—each more complex than the last—while Mother activated a pristine alchemical chamber lined with elemental mana stones. This was where they trained us, where they'd prepared us for moments like this.
"Drink it, sweetheart," Mother urged, steadying Michel's trembling hands as she uncorked the vial.
The reaction was immediate.
Michel's back arched as vibrant green veins erupted across her skin. "ARGHHHH—!" Her scream rattled the walls.
"It's okay. The bloodline's merging," Mother soothed, pinning her down as Michel convulsed. "Just endure."
I watched through my Eye of the Archivist, recording every detail:
Her blood restructuring in real-time
Cells mutating to accommodate the Verdant Dryad's essence
The chamber's mana being devoured by the transformation
"She'll need an hour or two," Father noted, observing Michel's energy fluctuations.
I nodded, mentally archiving the data. Every scream, every spark of mana—all preserved like a living textbook.
The merging took only 53 minutes— faster than Father's predicted time. When the chamber's light faded, Michel emerged transformed:
Her once violet hair now shimmered with emerald streaks
Eyes glowed with a jade luminescence
Her entire body radiated tangible vitality, like sunlight given form
"This... this power!" she gasped, staring at her hands as living vines spontaneously curled around her fingers. The plants seemed to greet their new sovereign, responding to her will before she'd even formed a thought.
"The bloodline has merged perfectly," Mother announced, her voice thick with relief. She and Father exchanged a glance—one that spoke of unspoken plans.
"Michel," Father began carefully, "this changes things. With an Apex bloodline, you're guaranteed entry into a Supreme Organization now."
He didn't specify which one, but it didn't matter. The Supreme Organizations stood at the absolute peak of this world, and Michel's new power made her invaluable to them.
Michel's lips curled into a smirk as she turned to me, her old bratty attitude resurfacing. "Hah! Now we're equals."
I rolled my eyes. Sure. Because a bloodline makes up for your personality.
But beneath the taunt, something else flickered in her gaze—happiness and gratitude.