Translator: CinderTL
"A missing part of the Nameless Breathing Technique?"
Roland's eyebrows lifted slightly at these words.
During his practice of the Nameless Breathing Technique, he had never sensed any incompleteness. The technique felt whole and self-contained, a complete system in itself.
But seeing Graham's silence, he refrained from pressing further and simply reached out to accept the parchment scroll.
The scroll felt heavy and rough in his hand, as if it carried a weight far exceeding its physical mass.
Its edges were severely worn, stained a deep brownish-yellow, and felt dry and brittle with age.
Roland carefully untied the thin leather cord securing the scroll and slowly unfurled it.
An indescribable aura washed over him.
At the top of the scroll, a line of ancient characters, larger than the main text and seemingly branded with molten dark gold, immediately caught his eye:
"Bloodline is both the cangue we bear and the untapped power within. To wield a thunderbolt, one must endure its searing heat."
The inscription carried a sense of fatalistic weight and warning, its words brimming with the duality of strength and sacrifice.
Roland's heart jolted as he continued reading.
The text on the scroll wasn't written with ordinary ink but with a deep brown, nearly black pigment that shimmered with a subtle metallic sheen.
The ancient, twisted script was unlike any common language Roland knew. Each character resembled a living vine, coiling across the parchment, or perhaps solidified trails of energy.
Concentrating his spirit, he drew upon his accumulated knowledge, painstakingly deciphering the text.
Soon, his gaze was drawn to the central pattern at the scroll's midpoint.
It wasn't a representational image, but rather a complex geometric structure meticulously woven from countless minute runes and flowing energy lines.
It resembled a still heart, yet also a keyhole leading to unfathomable depths.
The lines composing it radiated an irresistible allure.
Combining the laboriously deciphered text with the pattern, Roland gradually held his breath.
The text was obscure, filled with metaphorical descriptions of "the source of life," "the inner flame," and "the key to the shackles."
Yet the precise diagrams illustrating how energy gathered, compressed, and erupted at specific nodes within the body, and the subtle pull the central pattern exerted on his own blood, finally revealed the truth.
"This is... a secret art to awaken the bloodline?" Roland couldn't help but whisper aloud.
This was far more than a mere supplement to the breathing technique. It was a dangerous key that touched the very essence of life, forcibly prying open the hidden power of the bloodline.
At its core lay the principles of "resonance" and "ignition."
It taught practitioners how to channel the refined Battle Qi cultivated through the Nameless Breathing Technique into a specific, violently oscillating frequency, forcibly resonating with their dormant bloodline power.
This was akin to striking an invisible "fortified gate" deep within the bloodline with a heavy forging hammer.
The diagrams clearly illustrated how Battle Qi formed high-pressure vortices at critical nodes, then ignited the slumbering power within the bloodline like a fuse.
The process of activating bloodline power was depicted with extreme destructiveness.
Within the human silhouette, lines representing energy erupted from core nodes with blinding light, instantly thickening and twisting like a flood breaching its banks, scouring the fragile riverbed.
Small annotations warned of "container strength," "shackle disintegration," and "primordial flame," echoing the inscription at the top.
Roland's gaze swept over the subsequent diagrams detailing how to attempt to "restrain" and "guide" the unleashed power. Compared to the activation phase, this section appeared simplified, obscure, and fraught with uncertainty.
Clearly, mastering this forcibly awakened, berserk power was a hundred times more difficult—and far more dangerous—than awakening it in the first place.
This reminded him of the terrifying sight of Graham's partially dragon-transformed body during their battle against the Lich.
"That's right... by activating the bloodline, one can obtain forbidden power..."
Graham's voice was low and somber, as if recalling a memory or explaining to Roland.
"While this secret art grants strength far beyond one's natural limits, the cost..."
The knight gestured to his already graying hair and chuckled softly.
"You've seen it yourself, haven't you? So..."
His broad hand settled on Roland's shoulder.
"Unless absolutely necessary, never... never use this secret art lightly. Understand?"
"I understand, but..."
Roland retied the scroll with a thin cord and asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"Dean Graham, why are you entrusting this to me?"
"Truth be told, I've been searching for a genius capable of carrying on this legacy, but..."
The Knight Academy Dean shook his head gently.
"I was about to give up entirely, until you came along."
He looked at Roland, his voice filled with conviction.
"Focus on your training and don't let trivial thoughts and worldly affairs distract you like they did me. Given time... your strength will undoubtedly surpass mine."
Hearing this encouragement, Roland nodded slightly, but his mind remained troubled by lingering questions.
Even from a cursory examination, he had grasped the fundamental principles of the secret art: it could only activate the practitioner's own bloodline. The resulting power and consequences depended entirely on the bloodline itself.
Then...
Graham's physical transformation during the incident had clearly been a dragon transformation.
Could this mean that Graham possessed dragon bloodline within him?
Weighing his words carefully, Roland slowly voiced his question.
But Graham simply shook his head.
"Boy, I've never even seen one of those legendary creatures, let alone had any connection to them. As for the dragon bloodline..."
The knight trailed off, reluctant to elaborate, and dismissed the topic with a casual wave of his hand.
"It was just a reward I received for saving an old drunkard when I was young."
Seeing Graham's unwillingness to elaborate, Roland didn't press further.
Recalling the wizard he had encountered in the room earlier, he paused to consider before sharing his theory from the previous night.
"You rascal..." Graham shook his head gently, opened his mouth as if to speak, but paused for a moment before ultimately saying nothing.
Seeing his expression, Roland said slowly, "Dean Graham, if there's anything I can help with..."
"Ha!" Graham chuckled softly, cutting Roland off before he could finish. "Don't worry, kid. It's not as bad as you think..."
Recalling yesterday's unpleasant parting with his old friend, Graham took a deep breath, his expression returning to normal, his tone even carrying a hint of teasing.
"Besides, even if things were as bad as you imagine... with your current strength, you wouldn't make a difference. Even if you were a transcendent professional, you couldn't change the situation. Rather than dwell on that..."
As if afraid Roland would press further, he abruptly changed the subject.
"Actually, there is something I need your help with."
"Do you remember when I mentioned sending you to lead a team to the Golden Valley Kingdom for an exchange program with their Knight Academy?"
(End of the Chapter)
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