"Another bowl? No way."
Stepping out of the bathroom, Ethan rubbed his stomach, looking like he'd just barely survived a battle of his own.
"Won who can actually cook these days, huh?"
He pulled open the blinds and looked down at the crowded street below. People were hauling lumber, pushing carts of rubble, all working hard on reconstruction.
"How long was I out?" he asked, still groggy.
"Not long. Including today, about three and a half days," the Sword Spirit replied, also gazing at the workers down below.
"Three and a half days?" Ethan repeated, blinking in surprise. "Didn't expect I'd sleep for that long…"
He clenched his fist lightly. The massive battle from days ago had clearly taken a huge toll on his body. No wonder he'd been out for so long.
"Anyway, there's sothing I've been aning to ask you."
Closing the window, Ethan turned back around and looked the young girl up and down. This wasn't just any girl—she was the Sword Spirit born from the Imperial Blade.
And that blade? It originated from his divine bloodline.
In other words, she and he were fundantally connected—two parts of the sa whole.
But that wasn't what mattered now.
What mattered was that if this sword had a sentient spirit, she might know sothing—sothing about who he really was.
"Where exactly did you co from?" he asked. "I an before you ended up in the sword."
"And how much do you know about my bloodline?"
"What do I need to do to unlock its full potential?"
He asked from deep within his soul. He needed to know.
But the Sword Spirit smiled apologetically and shook her head. "Sorry, Master… Most of your questions, I can't answer right now. I'm still sealed. A lot of my mories are completely blank…"
"Damn it."
Ethan clicked his tongue in frustration. This could've been the closest he'd co to finally uncovering the truth.
But no.
He sighed. "Whatever. I'll figure it out eventually. You said most questions. What about the rest?"
The girl nodded slightly. "Even though I've forgotten a lot, I still rember so things about your bloodline."
Schlick.
"Hey—what the hell are you doing!?"
Ethan yelped as she nicked his finger with a fine stream of energy. What was she thinking!?
"Look," the Sword Spirit said, holding up his hand. "Your blood—it's golden."
Of course, Ethan already knew this part.
"Your bloodline is called the Imperial Vein," she explained. "The purer the golden color, the higher the potential. Yours? Nearly all gold. That's what we call a 'God-Tier' Imperial Vein."
"Imperial Vein… God-Tier…"
Ethan frowned, trying to process what she was saying. He didn't completely understand it yet—but so clues were starting to fall into place.
"So people like … I guess that ans others exist with this kind of blood too? Just… not as pure?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly," the Sword Spirit confird. "You're not the only one. But most of them? Their blood only has about thirty percent gold. That's considered Low-Tier."
Just as I thought…
Ethan clenched his jaw. He'd suspected this for a while. His bloodline couldn't have co out of nowhere.
If not random, then it had to be inherited. Passed down.
He wasn't born from thin air. He had a father. A mother. Probably even a whole family line.
A legacy.
One with this kind of rare, powerful bloodline... It had to co from sowhere big—maybe even a once-powerful clan now lost to ti.
"Then… do you know where I can find others with the sa bloodline as mine?"
He held his breath after asking. A part of him didn't want to hear the answer.
Unfortunately, the Sword Spirit just shook her head again.
"Sorry. That part of my mory's still locked away. But—Master—I do know how you can grow your Imperial Vein."
The Imperial Vein wasn't just a physical trait. It held imnse latent power. If it could be unlocked, harnessed, shaped—Ethan could achieve godlike strength.
He'd had a small taste of it before… and it felt good.
But he hated how little control he had over it.
He didn't even know where it ca from, let alone how to properly use it. If Secre hadn't forcibly unlocked part of it with her sealing magic, he might still be clueless.
"There are two ways to awaken the power of the Imperial Vein," she said. "First, you can train with the Imperial Art—a sacred technique that slowly draws out your bloodline's power, like warming a frog in water. Second… you can fight to the death. They say in the space between life and death, there's unmatched potential. A battle for your life could trigger your bloodline's explosive growth."
Ethan listened intently, like a student hanging on every word of his ntor.
He agreed—especially with the second thod.
More often than not, real power only awakened when you were cornered—when you had nothing left to lose. He'd lived it. That battle with Bartley? It had nearly killed him—but it had also sparked the first real burst of his Imperial power.
"So the second way is risky," he muttered. "Could work once or twice… but how many tis can you gamble with your life before it runs out? Where would I even find soone powerful enough to push to that edge every ti?"
He frowned, then turned to the Sword Spirit with a sly grin. "Okay then—what about the Imperial Art? Got a copy of that lying around?"
She chuckled awkwardly. "Hehe… sorry, Master… I don't have it."
"…Seriously?"
So all that speech, just to say: 'Go get yourself nearly killed or find a way to make your own damn training manual.'
"The Imperial Art only works on those with the Imperial Vein," she added. "So it was never widely copied. Most people couldn't use it anyway."
"I get it." Ethan sighed. "I get it…"
He nodded but couldn't hide the disappointnt on his face.
For now, unlocking the full potential of his bloodline would have to wait.
Then sothing clicked.
"Wait… if sealing magic can break the lock on my bloodline—maybe that's my way around it!"
A spark of excitent lit up in his eyes.
Why risk dying or chasing ancient scrolls?
Why not just lie down and let Secre work her magic for a few weeks?
Hell, by the ti she was done, he'd be unstoppable.
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