“Ah, wait — give a mont. I want to read through these properly. So of them look downright hilarious.”
A simple gesture summoned his portable massage seat from his inventory. The soft hum of the machine filled the room as it adjusted to his fra. With a comfortable sigh, Thalion settled in, leaned back, idly scrolling through the list of bloodlines as the system’s voice crackled with laughter.
“Haha, sure. If you want to see more of these ridiculous ones, just say the word. I’m browsing them too,” the voice replied, its tone uncharacteristically bright, practically buzzing with amusent.
Thalion couldn’t recall ever hearing the voice sound so... alive. There was a spark of genuine excitent in it — a rare break from its usual dry, chanical composure. But he pushed the thought aside, sinking deeper into his chair.
Mistborn Drift
Mockingly dubbed “Fogwalker’s Folly,” this faint bloodline traces back to the lingering essence of a long-forgotten wind spirit. Bearers of this lineage are perpetually cold to the touch and thin wisps of vapor trail them like silent ghosts. Its only real effect is a subtle distortion of the user’s silhouette while moving — offering more of an eerie spectacle than true concealnt. And yet, scattered through ancient texts lie whispers of those patient enough to master the trait, who learned to dissolve into mist entirely, drifting with the wind before reforming at will.
Well, Thalion mused, compared to the others, that one doesn’t sound half bad.
Glassbone Lineage
Those cursed — or blessed — with this bloodline possess bones as clear as polished crystal, and move with an unnatural, fluid grace. Their bodies flow through space like water over stone, often earning them fa as dancers, duelists, and assassins. But beauty cos at a cruel cost. Glassbone skeletons are notoriously fragile; a single misstep, a mistid block, or even an unlucky fall could leave them shattered like fine porcelain. Healing spells nd the damage... but slowly, and the fractures rarely heal quite the sa. Each break leaves behind faint imperfections, visible only to the most discerning eye.
Thalion snorted softly under his breath.
That’s not a blessing. That’s just a slow, painful death sentence.
He scrolled on, curiosity carrying him from one oddity to another. The deeper he went, the stranger they beca. There were bloodlines that caused endless hair growth — the kind you’d need to shave daily, or risk being smothered in your sleep. Another inflicted its bearers with an incurable drowsiness, lulling them into near-constant sleep in exchange for unnaturally long lifespans.
One bloodline, however, caught his eye. It hardened the bearer’s skin like living armor, though at the cost of severely hampered healing. Still — it struck Thalion as a fair trade, and leagues better than most of the other "joke" bloodlines on display.
“Alright, I’ve seen enough. Show the bloodlines that actually matter. The ones worth taking,” Thalion finally said, leaning forward as he dismissed the last window. “Also... can I take both a divine skill and a bloodline?”
A chuckle echoed through the air, rich with mockery.
“Not a chance. Greedy, aren’t we? Though, I’ll make an exception — just for you — if you’re willing to settle for one of the ‘ass-tier’ bloodlines.”
The voice’s laughter rumbled through the space like distant thunder, and before Thalion could retort, another window shimred into existence before his eyes. The familiar, rune-engraved fra hinted at sothing far more potent than the scraps he’d seen so far.
“Fair enough,” Thalion murmured, a smirk playing across his lips as he refocused on the new list. His pulse quickened, anticipation mounting. Finally — the real options.
Abyssblood Lineage
The Abyssblooded are marked by veins of black-blue and skin cold as stone. They are the inheritors of the deep — their blood carrying the silent hunger of oceanic trenches where sunlight dares not tread. Early manifestations grant them the ability to harden their flesh like living coral, shape blades from condensed water, and survive pressures that would crush mortal bones. As their bond with the abyss deepens, so too does their power: summoning tentacle-like extensions of raw pressure, reshaping their bodies into fluid, adaptable forms, and weaving watery illusions where sound and light are devoured by endless black. But the abyss whispers. Those who overindulge in its gifts risk losing themselves to its cold embrace, forgetting the warmth of the surface world. Silence and solitude beco tempting companions, and for so, the call of the deep is impossible to resist.
Dusksoul Lineage
The Dusksoul bloodline is tied to the gloaming—those monts when the day dies and the world holds its breath. Bearers of this lineage appear calm, soft-spoken, but their presence unnerves crowds. Spirits linger around them, drawn to their silent aura. They can sense ghosts and emotional echoes, cloak themselves in emotional invisibility, and sotis extract mories from others. In combat, they absorb fear and anger to empower their strikes, or blur their form with afterimages and silent illusions. But they risk becoming emotionally numb or distant from the living. If cultivated well, they may even whisper with the dead or beco vessels for ancestral power.
Tideborn Lineage
Tideborn are marked by the rhythm of the sea. Their blood slls faintly of salt, and when angered, the air around them grows humid and storm-heavy. They can manipulate water in small amounts at first—drawing moisture from the air or pulling water from wounds to form weapons or shields. They move with liquid grace, and their reflexes seem to follow the tide itself—calm one mont, a crashing wave the next. Advanced users can walk on water, breathe underwater, or summon geysers. In rare cases, their emotions may trigger tidal surges or drown entire rooms in mist. However, Tideborn are deeply emotional, and imbalance can lead to drought or flood within. Their powers are tied to emotional discipline as much as magic.
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Sunfire Lineage
The Sunfire bloodline traces back to ancient guardians who were kissed by the sun at its zenith. Those born with this gift carry a fragnt of celestial fire within them. Their blood burns with golden light, capable of searing away corruption and healing the wounds of others. Their presence repels darkness and lesser undead instinctively avoid them. Sunfire heirs are known for their courage—though this gift demands purity of heart. Should they stray into hatred or cruelty, the fla may rebel, turning inward and scorching them from within. But if cultivated with discipline, they can wield blazing weapons, summon radiant shields, and even call down brief monts of daylight in the darkest places.
Thalion’s gaze lingered on the bloodlines displayed before him, the soft, bluish glow of the system window reflecting in his eyes. One after another, the descriptions unfolded, and the more he read, the more a quiet sense of awe settled in his chest. The sheer variety — the depth of potential hidden within these ancient legacies — was staggering.
The first that had caught his eye was a bloodline born from the fusion of water and blood. It radiated untad potential, especially if nurtured and evolved properly. But even as the possibilities whispered to his ambition, Thalion’s thoughts remained grounded. His bond with the Tidecaller Serpent had already granted him unparalleled mastery over underwater combat, and attempting to force his human form into that niche felt wasteful. The trait of fully dissolving into water mirrored abilities his elven form could already mimic — a clear sign that, while powerful, this bloodline was simply not tailored for him.
The Dusksoul Lineage held a different kind of allure — one that tugged at his curiosity like a moth to fla. The ability to absorb mories? That wasn’t just useful — it was dangerously overpowered if wielded with precision. The thought of triggering it at just the right mont, of harvesting centuries of knowledge or battlefield experience from an enemy, set his mind racing with possibilities.
However, the second aspect of the bloodline dampened his enthusiasm. Strikes fueled by emotion, empowered by raw anger, sounded... inefficient. Thalion was many things, but a man ruled by emotion wasn’t one of them. Calculated, cold, thodical, good drinker — those were the words more likely etched onto his gravestone. He doubted this part of the bloodline would offer him any real strength, even if the rest of its gifts tempted him.
Yet, there was sothing he couldn’t ignore: this bloodline, unlike many others, would influence every form he possessed, transcending species and shape. A rare quality, and a crucial one. That fact alone forced the Abyssblood Lineage — for all its potential — out of consideration. Dusksoul stayed on his shortlist. For now.
Still, doubts gnawed at him. The whispers of the dead, the emotional absorption — in theory, all valuable tools. But in practice? Right now, in the middle of a war, surrounded by dying n and fear-soaked battlefields? He couldn’t predict how his mind would hold against the emotional flood. A powerful soul or not, no one could say for certain whether he'd remain in control, or accidentally drown himself in the collective fear and rage of a thousand dying soldiers.
One tactical question haunted him: if he absorbed an enemy’s fear or fury... did it leave them calm and collected? That would be the last thing he wanted. An unshaken enemy could be more dangerous than a panicked one. The thought alone was enough to temper his enthusiasm. For now, he tagged Dusksoul with a ntal label: high risk, high reward — maybe.
The next contender was Tideborn, and this one genuinely intrigued him. So of its abilities mirrored blood-harvest techniques, which imdiately earned his interest. Thalion’s path to power had always been about layering effects, stacking one strength atop another until the whole beca far more than the sum of its parts. But as his eyes skimd deeper into the description, his excitent dimd.
Once again, emotions played a role. Certain aspects of the bloodline seed tied to the ebb and flow of tides — a poetic concept, but an unreliable one. Reflexes that "follow the tide" sounded impressive until you considered the sheer vagueness of the statent. Would his reactions dull on a moonless night? Would his strength wane if he fought far from the sea? Too many unknowns, and for Thalion, uncertainty was never a friend. The idea that his blood would forever carry the scent of saltwater also struck him as... irritating. Another bloodline set aside.
The last na on the list was Sunfire Lineage. From the very first sentence, it felt more like a support-type bloodline than sothing designed for frontline combat. But one detail piqued his imagination: the idea that his blood could ignite. A curious thought word its way into his mind — if he could weaponize his blood, could he do the sa to his enemies'? If their blood could be ignited from the inside, would any wound, no matter how small, beco a death sentence? How would they even counter such a thing? A health potion? Water? Unlikely.
But the bloodline ca with its own bitter price. Its purifying fla would cleanse his blood of any corruption — which raised serious concerns about how it might interact with the Crimson Virethorn. If the system classified it as a form of corruption, the two would tear each other apart inside him. And worse still was the bloodline’s cruel condition: purity of heart. The flas would not tolerate hate or cruelty. The very idea of living a life without room for anger, lest the fire turn inward and consu him, was enough to make him close the window in silent rejection. That was no gift. That was a leash.
As the last description faded, Thalion leaned back in his seat, his mind still turning over the possibilities. Four bloodlines. Each with its own promise. Each with its own dangers. But he doubted this was everything the voice had to offer — and more importantly, he was still itching to know what those "Divine Skills" were truly capable of.
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