Chapter 319: Chapter 199: Pureblood
Ron, Trish, and Holt ford a temporary squad.
They moved through the dissipating mist, heading towards the semi-transparent dark red crystal enclosure.
As they got closer, the crystal structure beca increasingly clear.
The surface of those crystal pillars was etched with strange patterns, like veins, with so energy seemingly flowing slowly inside, emitting a faint pulsating crimson glow.
"This is the core of the Bloodline Altar," Ron whispered, his eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings:
"According to the Abyssal Creatures Atlas, though the trial formats differ, altar trials generally consist of three stages—Retracing, Resonance, and Transformation. We’re probably nearing the final Transformation stage now."
"I’ve read about so of these stages too," Holt nodded, his slender fingers lightly brushing the storage bag at his waist, ensuring the Earth Elental Golem Core was safe:
"But the specifics have always been a School secret. Seeing it firsthand is truly overwhelming."
Trish’s gaze fixed on the crystal structure, her brown hair appeared especially dark under the crimson light:
"These crystals... they seem like so sort of living tissue that’s been solidified. I can sense a faint life pulsation within, like the heartbeat of an ancient tree, but more... twisted."
The three of them advanced cautiously, each step taken with care, fearing to trigger so unknown trap.
A peculiar scent perated the air, cold like tal yet possessing so indescribable warmth, as if they were within so massive creature’s body.
Ron suddenly raised his hand to stop the two, his gaze sharp as an eagle’s: "Stop."
As soon as he spoke, all three felt a faint ripple coming from ahead.
It was a very subtle sound, like a small creature swimming in water, accompanied by gentle splashes.
In a shadowed corner of the crystal platform, a small figure moved lightly, making tiny splashing sounds.
A head of silvery hair shimred with an unusual luster reflected by the crystals, and large violet-blue eyes appeared even deeper, almost navy blue.
"Is that... Dale?" Ron frowned, his first instinct being that the Little Sea Siren by his side had sohow run ahead.
But in the next mont, his intuition told him sothing was off.
The aura emanating from this "Dale" was entirely different from that of the real Dale.
It was a more primitive, colder aura, lacking the unique warmth that Dale had.
"It’s a replica."
He confird through his Extraordinary Recognition skills, sensing that the energy fluctuation from this "Dale" exceeded that of normal creatures:
"The Bloodline Altar might have created replicas of each of us, and this is hers."
This "Dale" looked almost identical to the real Dale, but her deanor was entirely different.
Her movents were smoother than Dale’s, each small gesture carrying a predatory grace and lethal elegance.
Her gaze was sharper, with her pupils glinting with a primitive, cold predator instinct, sending a chill down one’s spine.
For a mont, Ron felt the real Dale beside him tense up, but she quickly relaxed again.
"Is that... ?"
Dale’s voice was unafraid, instead, filled with curiosity and excitent: "It looks like , but also not like ."
The replica seed to sense their presence and turned its head, an eerie smile spreading across its face.
The smile seed innocent, yet inexplicably creepy, as if hiding so real horror behind a mask.
"Oh, is big sister here to play with ?"
The replica Dale said in a naive tone.
She hopped forward a few steps, each step accompanied by splashing droplets.
"Master is here too, how wonderful."
The replica tilted its head, droplets sliding off its silver hair, only to halt midair, transforming into a miniature ice blade:
"Master, may I devour big sister? I want to beco stronger, so I can better protect Master..."
With the murderous intent in her words, the air temperature plumted, as if an invisible cold current emanated from the replica.
Frost began forming on the crystal platform, white mist lightly exhaled from her mouth and nose, condensing into translucent ice crystals, gently falling in the air.
Yet, even though it was just a replica, it seed to harbor no hostility towards him, perhaps he should feel touched?
Ron calmly assessed the situation; he could feel that this replica was much stronger than the normal Dale.
Life energy fluctuations were more active, but also more unstable, like a container forcibly filled with too much energy, on the verge of breaking apart.
"She is indeed powerful," Ron whispered:
"But also very dangerous, with overly enhanced bloodline traits entirely driven by instinct."
Dale gazed at her replica, her eyes glinting with so understanding:
"She is a part of ... that part which only obeys instinct."
"Instinct?" The replica Dale tilted her head, her expression naive and confused, silver hair drifting with her movent, forming into tiny ice crystals:
"What are you talking about? I’m just... hungry."
As she uttered the last few words, her voice suddenly shifted in tone.
Like dozens of voices speaking simultaneously, her pupils dilated, almost engulfing the whites of her eyes, filled with uncontrollable greed and desire.
The replica Dale’s form began to transform.
Her fingertips elongated, turning into sharp blue claws, their surface covered with dense scales;
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