Chapter 220 - 215: The Meeting (Part 1)
The oak doors of Marquis Lorenzo’s mansion opened.
Tristan walked in.
The cold wind and wet snow outside were shut out by the heavy doors.
The old butler waiting in the foyer bowed, ready to take the second young master’s coat.
But his hands stopped mid-air.
The old butler looked up, his eyes widening slightly.
He looked at the second young master.
The Master Tristan of his memory, though he appeared nonchalant, always kept his head down, pretending to be uninterested in the people and affairs of the Marquis’s household.
But today, his back was ramrod straight.
His gray-blue eyes stared straight ahead, past the foyer, toward the lights in the depths of the mansion.
The old butler quickly lowered his head, taking the coat with more reverence than ever before and handing it to a young servant nearby.
He felt his heart begin to race.
’The second young master... is different now.’
From the side hall on the first floor came the sounds of a harp and low whispers.
His mother was hosting a winter salon.
Normally, Tristan would have taken the servants’ staircase at the side, returning to his room without a sound.
But not this time.
The young man strode toward that brightly lit world that had never belonged to him.
As Tristan’s figure appeared in the arched doorway of the side hall, amidst the melodious harp music, the nobles who had been conversing in low whispers all turned to look at him in unison.
Dozens of gazes fell upon him.
"Is that... the second son of the Lorenzo family?" a Count asked, lowering his voice.
"Who else could it be but the ’Bloodless’ one," his companion snorted. "How strange. He actually dares to show his face here."
"Quiet down, the Marquis is looking this way."
Though the murmurs were quiet, they were jarring in the silent hall.
Tristan’s older brother, Alistair, was chatting and laughing with a friend, a glass of wine in hand.
Seeing his younger brother at the doorway, the smile vanished from his face, and his brow furrowed.
He excused himself to his friend and walked over quickly.
"Tristan."
The shadow of Alistair’s tall frame fell over his younger brother.
He smelled of wine, and his tone was edged with impatience.
"What are you doing here?"
He reached out to grab Tristan’s arm, trying to lead him away.
"Go back to your room!"
In the past, Tristan would have let himself be led away in silence.
But this time, he didn’t move.
"I’m here to see Father, brother."
Alistair froze.
He didn’t avoid his brother’s gaze.
In those gray-blue pupils, the usual evasiveness was gone, and a hint of light seemed to shine from their depths.
Marquis Lorenzo had also noticed the commotion at the doorway and set down his silver cup.
Everyone fell silent.
The temperature in the side hall seemed to drop several degrees.
His second son, the one who was always trying to hide himself in a pile of books, was now standing straight under the lights.
His figure was the same, but the feeling he gave off... was completely different.
Marquis Lorenzo stood up.
He walked toward the doorway, one step at a time.
The guests instinctively stepped back, clearing a path for him.
Alistair felt the oppressive aura emanating from his father. Thinking that Tristan’s "imprudence" had angered him, he instinctively took a half-step forward to shield his younger brother.
The Marquis’s gaze passed over him and settled on Tristan.
He scrutinized his second son.
It was the eyes.
The gray-blue was no longer dim. Deep within them, it was as if a sleeping cosmos was being awakened by some power, slowly beginning to turn.
The Marquis reached out and placed a hand on Tristan’s shoulder.
A stream of Spiritual Power flowed from his palm, probing Tristan’s body.
The next moment, the Marquis’s arm recoiled with a violent tremor.
His expression remained impassive, but inside, his mind was in turmoil!
’Star Whisper!’
’This is impossible!’
’He knew his own son best. Every year, he would inspect the boy’s bloodline, and no matter how many Original Blood Crystals were used, it never showed the slightest change.’
’When did this happen!?’
’Could he have encountered something forbidden... some Alchemist bold enough to defy rigid conventions?’
The Marquis adjusted his expression, turning to the hall full of guests with an apologetic tone.
"Tonight’s salon is concluded. I have some family matters to attend to."
The guests exchanged glances, all speculating that the imprudent second son had caused trouble for the family.
The Marquis seized Tristan’s arm, his grip tight.
"Alistair! My lady! To the study with me!"
He dragged Tristan toward the study without a backward glance.
The Marchioness and Alistair exchanged a confused glance and hurried to follow.
The heavy study door slammed shut behind them with a THUD.
In the center of the study stood an Obsidian pedestal.
Marquis Lorenzo walked to the wall and pressed a complex sequence on a relief carving, causing a hidden compartment to slide open.
He took out a box, and inside lay a fist-sized Crystal Stone, within which a red light pulsed.
The Blood Heart Stone.
"Your hand."
The Marquis’s command was curt.
Tristan extended his hand.
The Marquis took out a small, ceremonial silver knife and made a cut on the tip of Tristan’s finger.
A drop of blood welled up and fell onto the Blood Heart Stone.
The red light inside the Blood Heart Stone extinguished.
A profound, ghostly blue light erupted.
The view of the entire study began to distort.
It was as if the room was suspended in a vast, starry sky.
Countless silver points of light appeared around them, spinning and connecting to form complex star charts.
Stars were born and died before their very eyes.
Rivers of stars flowed beneath their feet.
The Marchioness covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face, but dared not make a sound.
Alistair stared blankly at the scene. Seeing his brother enveloped in the light of a billion stars, the drunken haze on his face had long since vanished, replaced by sheer disbelief.
"Tristan... you..."
Marquis Lorenzo’s body trembled slightly.
He looked at the scene before him, then back at his son.
Ecstasy and worry warred within his heart.
The starlight slowly receded, all of it flowing back into the Blood Heart Stone.
The study returned to normal.
"Who was it."
The Marquis’s voice was hoarse. He desperately needed an answer.
"Who did this? And what price did you pay?"
Tristan pulled his hand back; the cut on his fingertip had already healed.
He faced his father, his attitude respectful.
"A respected scholar, my lord."
He recited the prepared story as he had agreed with Velin.
"He combined ancient texts with the Dwarfs’ trial Secret Techniques to devise a new method of bloodline cultivation!"
He looked up, meeting his father’s shocked gaze.
"Father, I wish to introduce him to you. You can ask him any questions you have in person."
Marquis Lorenzo looked at his completely transformed son, then thought of the mysterious "scholar" who could awaken a Golden Tier bloodline.
A person who could awaken a Golden Tier bloodline...
Throughout all of Haidi, what family didn’t have its bloodless members?
This meant that the power structure of the Lorenzo family, and even the entire Duchy, was about to change.
He looked at Tristan, his eyes burning with a feverish light.
"Arrange a meeting."
"Immediately!"