Anthony's thoughts trembled at Colonel Vazeryth's final words.
His gaze shifted to Zhyravel.
A man capable of crafting cultivation manuals for the pinnacle figures of the world was anything but ordinary.
To have done so for nine individuals of such stature, each one ticulously tailored to their unique essence, was nothing short of madness.
The knowledge alone was staggering.
The ti, imnse.
The intellect, unparalleled.
And the sheer madness, unthinkable.
It also implied sothing even more astounding: the Nine Supre Monarchs had permitted Zhyravel to examine their bodies, at least to so extent, in order to craft such personalized cultivation manuals.
After all, how could one forge sothing so precise without first understanding the very essence of the individual it was ant for?
Creating cultivation manuals of such caliber demanded far more than ti, knowledge, or intellect.
For most, it required a mont of enlightennt, or, at the very least, sothing akin to it to conceive a manual truly unique, one that transcended the conventional path.
But Zhyravel...
Zhyravel Veylanthar had done it.
Not once.
Not twice.
Nine tis.
And he had done so in the span of a single week.
And those were rely the ones Colonel Vazeryth knew of.
What of the others, those he may have created long before his clan was hunted?
How many more bore the imprint of his brilliance, hidden in the shadows of forgotten legends?
But Michael, Collins, and Mitchelle no longer relied on the cultivation manuals Zhyravel had once crafted for them.
After all, the fruit Anthony bestowed upon his family had done far more than simply enhance their cultivation and talent.
It had imparted knowledge, limited, yes, but profound nonetheless, and among that knowledge were cultivation thods uniquely attuned to each of them.
But that wasn't the focus now.
Zhyravel's grin widened as Anthony's gaze t his.
He knew Anthony wouldn't resist.
In his eyes, Anthony couldn't resist.
Not because he lacked power.
Not because he lacked wealth.
Not even because of a lack in backing or talent.
But because none of it mattered.
Not in the face of Zhyravel's mind.
Not in the shadow of his knowledge.
No one ever turned down a deal he proposed.
You could call it pride.
You could call it arrogance.
But Zhyravel Veylanthar had earned the right to both.
For the first ti, Anthony's heart stirred.
He had never been swayed by offers of resources.
Not once.
Not even by the boundless wealth of his own family.
lineage, wealth he had never tapped into.
No one possessed more than he did.
And yet, in this very mont…
Soone had managed to tempt him.
It wasn't desire.
It wasn't greed.
It was curiosity.
Anthony simply wanted to see what Zhyravel would do.
What technique he would unveil.
What marvel he would present.
It was nothing more… and nothing less… than pure, unfiltered curiosity.
'OP System. If I give him a drop of my blood… could he uncover anything from it? Could it be used against ?'
Anthony's voice echoed within the silent space of his mind.
He wasn't naive.
He'd read far too many novels, stories where a single drop of blood could beco the key to a person's downfall.
A mont later, a soft chi echoed.
[Ding]
[Affirmative. Under normal circumstances, he could, given that the Host possesses the Primordial Bloodline. However, the system has always ensured that any tissue departing the Host's body, be it blood, hair, or nails, is cleansed of all connections to the Host. No biological trace remains. Nothing can be used against the Host]
The response ca swift and absolute.
Anthony allowed himself a subtle, ntal smile.
That ant even if he handed Zhyravel a drop of blood, it would reveal nothing.
Not his DNA.
Not his essence.
Not a single secret.
Even if soone were to snatch a strand of his hair while he slept, it would be useless.
And more importantly, no one could ever launch an attack on him through blood rites, essence tracking, or any form of binding.
'This is basically getting a cultivation manual for free'
Anthony mused, his face a mask of calm, though a quiet smile danced in his mind.
After all, Zhyravel would find nothing in his blood.
No secrets. No trace. Nothing.
He was just about to open his mouth, to agree to Zhyravel's proposition, when his system chid again.
[Ding]
[??? has stepped in]
[Well, well… It's been a while. Hooo… Seems soone's very eager to replace his cultivation manual. I suppose mine was never enough, huh?]
Anthony froze.
The words caught in his throat.
The ntal smile vanished.
The room suddenly felt heavier to him, as if sothing ancient, unseen, and watching had awakened.
When had ??? last made his presence known?
It had been so long, yet now he was stepping in as if he had just returned from so leisurely vacation.
'You misunderstand. I'm simply curious'
Anthony imdiately clarified, his thoughts calm but laced with an undercurrent of caution.
After all, ??? had given him a girlfriend.
What if he decided to take that gift back?
Anthony hadn't even had the chance to et her yet.
[Curious, huh? What is there to be curious about? Your Primordial Bloodline grants you Divine Intelligence. You could craft whatever he creates while asleep]
Anthony was at a loss for words.
He had never been much of a researcher, he was far more content with swinging his blade or spending money online than delving into the intricacies of knowledge.
But then, a thought struck him.
'Are you… jealous?'
He asked, the question slipping into his mind before he could stop it.
[...]
The communication mode shifted abruptly.
[Ding]
[??? says that he does not experience such emotions, as he is a being that predates existence itself. He is an uncaused entity]
Anthony simply gazed at the system notification, his mind amused.
'Who knew ??? was a jealous being?'
He thought, a ntal chuckle escaping him.
[??? says that he has other matters to attend to and will be changing channels now]
With that, the system's presence faded.
With his Thought Acceleration skill active, barely two seconds had passed since Colonel Vazeryth's final words.
Gazing at Zhyravel's wide grin, Anthony's expression softened into an innocent smile as he calmly replied.
"I'm sorry, but I must decline"
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