"But that's not what matters."
Robb clapped Andrey on the shoulder, casually steering the conversation in another direction.
"I suddenly have a question for you."
"What question?" Andrey was clearly still curious about Robb's bloodline secret, but he also knew pressing further wouldn't get him anywhere.
"Well, Andrey, have you ever thought about becoming king?"
Robb's gaze was calm, his voice composed, as if he were asking what Andrey had eaten today.
The seemingly offhand question hit like a boulder dropped into a still lake, sending shockwaves through Andrey's mind.
He froze as if struck by lightning. His golden, slit-pupil eyes narrowed dangerously. Instinctively, he glanced around, scanning every shadow and bush like he expected assassins to jump out at any moment.
Seconds later, realization struck. This wasn't the palace. It was the Black Mist Forest, a haven for the supernatural. Who here would care about the shifting crowns of a faraway kingdom?
Robb caught every flicker of reaction.
He raised an eyebrow in amusement. Clearly, the thirteenth prince harbored ambitions no one else had seen.
And that made things far more interesting.
If Andrey were content to be a sidelined noble, living quietly in obscurity after returning to the capital, then Robb's long-term plans would be finished before they began.
"Why would you suddenly ask that?" Andrey's voice was dry, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "Robb, that kind of joke isn't funny."
Robb shrugged, his eyes scanning Andrey's uneasy expression, an answer in itself.
Still, he pushed once more: "You didn't answer. Do you want it or not?"
Before they knew it, they had reached the workshop.
They stepped inside. Valenwood was waiting in the entrance hall. Her vine-woven "dress" rustled softly as she wordlessly guided them to the sitting room.
"Welcome back, Master. Lord Andrey," she wrote on her leaf-screen, her movements graceful and poised.
"Thanks, Valenwood," Robb nodded. "Please prepare us some hot tea."
Valenwood bowed slightly and walked toward the tea room.
Her movements had become remarkably fluid, with only the occasional twitch of her tendrils betraying her plant origins.
Soon she returned with tea, two steaming cups of herbal brew, then silently withdrew to the garden to bask in the sunlight.
Though her behavior grew ever more humanlike, her craving for sunlight remained an unshakable biological instinct.
Andrey sat in silence, drumming his fingers, staring into his teacup without drinking, as if it held some unknowable truth.
"If... if you really want to know." He finally lifted his head, his eyes unsure, his words halting.
"To be honest, I've never dared to even think about it. Thirteenth in line... a dozen siblings... my father can't even remember my birthday. I wouldn't have dared to dream of being king."
Robb didn't speak, just stared steadily, as if peering through to the very core of Andrey's soul.
"But now..." Andrey's expression changed. A spark lit in his golden pupils, a wildfire slowly spreading in the depths of his gaze.
"Now that I've awakened my bloodline... now that I've become a real knight... felt this power..." He took a deep breath and clenched his fist.
"Yeah. I want it."
Robb nodded knowingly. Just as he expected, ambition grows with strength.
Power always changes people. That's an eternal truth.
And now that Andrey showed his ambition, Robb's plan could move forward.
Had he been content to be a background prince, Robb would've had to find another path.
"Good. That's more like it." Robb slapped the table, eyes flashing sharply.
"By the time I become a High Apprentice, you'll have fully adapted to your bloodline and reached your peak strength."
"With your Crimsonblood Wyvern awakening complete, you'll be able to take on most High Apprentices. How many of your siblings can threaten you in power alone?"
Robb's gaze was like a blade, already picturing the storm of blood that would sweep through the royal court.
Andrey's throat moved as he swallowed hard, then slowly nodded. His eyes grew firm.
"No one, really. Since my two eldest brothers inherited wyvern bloodlines, the rest of my siblings only awakened fire-lizards or even lesser variants. But..."
He hesitated, clearly holding back something.
"You're worried about political backing?" Robb guessed immediately, like he'd already mapped out Andrey's thoughts.
"It's true. You've got no deep-rooted allies in the capital, no nobles or army generals that would support you. But with me backing you as a professional alchemist from the outside? That won't be a problem."
Andrey's eyes widened slightly, he hadn't expected Robb to speak so directly to the heart of his fears.
His expression flickered between surprise, suspicion, wariness... and hope.
"Are you serious, Robb? You'd really support me?"
"Of course." Robb smiled faintly. His gaze remained deep and unreadable.
The truth was, this plan had been brewing in his mind for a long time, not a whim, but a calculated, carefully plotted move.
He had two key motives:
First, if Andrey became king, he could protect the Reyne family.
Robb would one day leave to pursue greater power in the faraway Heartlands and the Crystal Spire. He couldn't stay by his family's side forever.
But if a king stood behind them, House Reyne would endure any storm.
Second, and more importantly, was the royal family's possession of the complete legacy of the Solar Breath, including the path toward the legendary Solar Knight.
Not to mention the royal treasury, which likely held ancient relics and long-lost knowledge.
Seizing these by force was unrealistic.
The Royal House of Farwynd had stood for centuries, backed by at least a dozen official knights, a High Apprentice, and numerous Intermediate Apprentices.
Not to mention the trump cards left behind by two past Corona Knights, even a full-fledged sorcerer would hesitate to challenge them outright.
Which was why Andrey was the perfect backdoor.
An internal upheaval stays within the family, it would be brutal, but controlled.
"But before all that, I need a favor."
Robb pulled a gleaming silver instrument from his desk, a device designed to preserve the vitality of supernatural blood samples.
"I need a bit of your blood. To study the Crimsonblood Wyvern's traits."
Andrey blinked, then chuckled and took the device without hesitation.
"That's it? Sure."
He rolled up his sleeve and inserted the needle into a vein. Lava-like blood with a faint golden sheen flowed into the collector tube.
Just seeing the liquid gave off heat, as if it weren't blood, but molten metal.
For a bloodline knight, this minor loss was nothing. He'd recover fully in days.
Robb carefully took the vial and stored it with reverence.
"This sample is crucial to my research. Thank you."
Andrey waved it off. "It's nothing. You helped me awaken my bloodline and saved my life. This is the least I can do."
After Andrey left, Robb immediately dove into his experiments, eager to explore the Primal Chimera bloodline's full potential.
Its four mental cores, three heads and a tail, could each independently replicate one bloodline trait.
In theory, this meant Robb could wield four different bloodline powers simultaneously.
And Andrey's Crimsonblood Wyvern lineage? High-tier, stable, and from a trustworthy source, with evolution potential. The ideal first test subject.
Robb stared at the glowing blood, excitement surging in his veins.
If he could successfully replicate this, his combat power would leap again.
First, he tried the obvious, pressing his palm to the vial and channeling mental energy to read the bloodline.
Nothing.
Next, he poured out a drop and placed it on his palm, trying to attune his Primal Chimera energy.
Still no reaction.
"Not that simple…" he muttered.
Then he tried a different route, diving inward, seeking those faint ancestral instincts that had stirred when he first awakened the Primal Chimera bloodline.
They weren't clear memories or words, more like sensations wrapped in mist. But after careful sifting, he found it:
A ritual.
A primordial ceremony used by Primal Chimeras to extract and assimilate foreign bloodlines.
"So that's how…"
He opened his eyes, a glint of revelation and excitement flickering there.
Primal Chimeras didn't simply absorb power by contact or ingestion. They needed a ritual, a fusion of blood, spirit, and will.
Robb took a dagger, sliced his fingertip, and let his blood drip into Andrey's.