“What kind of beaststone do you have? I think I haven’t encountered that one before,” Aya said. The beast’s form may have been contorted by merging with a human’s body but he was sure that he would have remembered a silver bladed creature that had such a powerful cutting power. He wasn’t sure, but it seemed that the blades were spewing concentrated mana. What kind of beast would cut that way? Or maybe, Garett’s mana affected the transformation, if that was possible with beaststones.

“My beaststones are quite famous, straight from over the Sleeping Seas,” Garett said. “Most books about beaststone would have told you what my beaststones are. You don’t seem to be up to date with current events, old man.”

Sleeping Seas? Aya remembered that the oceans around ForkSpear contained what they called Slumbering Beasts back then. Did he mean that? They were able to navigate the waters outside ForkSpear?

Aya shook his head. As interesting that piece of information might be, he should concentrate on this fight.

He couldn't help but grin a bit. Seemed like a lot has changed when he was away. It still surprised him that people have thought about using beaststones in altering their bodies. The Great Progenitor of Humans would be proud of this, he mused. He said to Garett, “I have met lots of beasts but nothing similar to what you transformed to.” It easily cut through his body so it was obviously a powerful beast worth noting. At the least, his beastmaster mentor could have warned him about this creature.

He studied all sorts of beasts under the tutelage of Gisella de Chanterel, the beastmaster of the Dragon’s Chosen. They travelled the continent to find beasts for him to consume and to add to his power. She also helped him practice the powers he acquired from them. Needless to say, he probably had more experience with beasts than the average beastmaster of his time.

“I’m quite sure you haven’t encountered this beast.” Garett grinned. The silver tendrils of his transformation that crept along the sides of his face appeared to seep through his skin and contorted his facial expression making his grin look more like a grimace than a friendly smile. Then a silver wave covered his face, completely coating the last portion of his body that hasn't transformed, giving him a mask with a beaklike feature.

Aya’s eyes focused on the blades. How could those blades cut through my skin so easily? Garett, probably sensing that he was being examined, suddenly disappeared in a gust of wind.

Aya pushed off the ground in a hurry, kicking up the dust as he moved. Garett sliced the air where Aya was a split second earlier. Aya noticed a sprinkling out orange and red in Garett’s swing, trailing the arc of his blade. Garett neatly cut the ground into perfect cubes that rose in the air and exploded into dust, all in a second.

The moment Aya’s feet touched the ground, several meters away, he kicked it again to move further away from Garett. However, his heels barely lifted off the ground when Garett’s blades stabbed down where stood. The hem of his robe was shredded, his feet torn by the pressure of the cut. The peculiar glowing particles lingered around his wounds.

Aya gritted his teeth, more in annoyance than pain.

He tucked his legs as he somersaulted, going with the flow of the waves of air that accompanied Garett’s insane speed.

Carapace of the Black Narval Crab, just in time. The thick craggy shell of the famously durable Narval Crab has already formed beneath the sleeves of his robe, stretching it to accommodate his monstrous transformed arms. The spikes of the crab’s shell pierced through his sleeves, or perhaps the sleeves allowed the spikes to pass through.

Aya was expecting to get hit, and he needed to get hit to figure out why Garett could easily cut him. As he flipped over above Garett, the latter pushed on the ground with his blades while turning in midair, bring the blades of his feet up in the air to bear. Aya’s eyes widened a bit in surprise for he was expecting Garett to slash upwards as a follow-up, instead, he brought his feet up and sliced down. Garett’s feet formed a graceful crescent as he rotated, his sleek silver feet blades meeting the spiky shields of Aya’s arm.

Although the attacks were nearly invisible, the whistling wind betrayed the subtle movements of Garett. Aya was blown away by the power of the slash, flying sideward. The shell on Aya’s arm was shattered by deep cuts that bit down nearly to his bone, the spikes swiped clean off, the shell fragments barely sticking to his flesh that was already rapidly transforming back into his normal hand.

He needed his normal hand for mana combustion.

A tail burst from his back. He stabbed the ground with his powerful black tail as he neared the ground, stopping himself from bouncing. Sure enough, Garett was immediately on top of him, his silvery blade descending, a guillotine sprinkled with glittering light.

That same annoying sparkles.

Aya used his tail that was attached to the ground as the axis of rotation and swung to the side to avoid the blade using the force that propelled him earlier, controlling it with his tail and back muscles. He managed to get to the side of Garett as his blade sliced down harmlessly. Their eyes met when Garett looked sideways, just in time to see Aya’s punch coming for him from the side.

Both of them were blown away from the force of the punch. Aya quickly retracted his tail at the moment of impact so that he would also be thrown back and gain some distance in the process.

He flipped and dragged his hand across the ground to stop himself then he stood up. Garett didn’t chase him.

Garett said in a loud voice from a distance, “So that how a punch coated powered with such a pure mana felt like.” The side of his face was smoking, the silver flesh of whatever beast he was transforming into had several gashes that oozed orange and reddish wisps.

Aya sprouted his tail again. The logical thing to do here was to fly up so that he would have plenty of opportunities to dodge Garett attacking upward since the latter seemed to be ground bound. However, Aya felt that the way Garett was attacking was subtly influencing him to fly up. Garett knew that he could fly and should have something up planned to counter that. Aya drilled his tail to the ground so that he could use it as a spring of sorts to add to his speed if he needed to evade in a hurry.

Mind games, mind games... All his attacks were from above or angled downwards, even if slightly. I bet he wants me to fly and take this fight into the air.

What was worrying was Garett appeared to be virtually unaffected by his punch. His gashes on the side of his face already healed up. But the damage to the body was not what the punch was for. The fact that it had that effect gave Aya some idea as to the nature of Garett’s transformation.

“You have layered mana…uh…sheets? Or plates? What do you call that skin?” Aya asked.

Garett shrugged and started to walk towards Aya, carefully balancing on his bladed feet. The points of the blades attached to his feet did not sink to the ground even though he put his weight on them. “Are you sure that you don’t know what beast this is? You seem to know how it works.”

“Your special mana…that’s why this beast works so well for you.”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“I initially thought that it’s because of your special mana that you could control those beaststones, but rather, your special mana draws out the power of the beast.”

As if to prove Aya correct, Garett held up one of his blades and shot forth a burst of his abnormal yellowish sort of orange mana with red tinges. The edge of the blade wasn’t an actual edge but rather it had an opening all along its length to allow the mana to get out.

Whatever that mutated mana was, it disintegrated what it came in contact with. Perhaps it was a weaker form of the mutated mana that one of the Dragon’s Chosen possessed. Aya remembered Khaine Blackwell’s special mana which they used to punch a hole through the defenses of the Blighted Multitude so that Aya could have a chance to carry out his plan to save everyone, but it cost Khaine’s life.

From what Aya observed, the silvery skin of whatever beast it was, trapped the special mana to protect Garett as if there were several layers of magic armor.

This was the most annoying enemy for him since he couldn’t form a direct bond to start mana combustion and deplete his opponent’s mana. He needed to peel away the layers and pockets of mana protection covering Garett.

Aya subtly transformed his legs covered by his robes. A small version of the legs of the Rapascar Dragon, a flightless dragon also known as the 'Running Dragon', would be helpful in this fight. He slowly bent his knees as his legs transformed so that Garett wouldn't notice that he was getting taller. He needed every advantage in this fight. If they went all out in their current states, Garett was stronger and faster than him. He couldn't mess around; he only did that if he knew that he had an advantage over his opponent. However, Garett appeared to have studied how he fought so he was well prepared.

At the moment, Aya's true advantage was that he could transform parts of his body into creatures Garett wouldn't even expect.

Aya snorted. Maybe he should have studied about Garett? Seems like a dangerous person to me.

He barely finished his thought before Garett rushed for him. Springing his tail, he flung himself forward. Using the powerful legs of the Rapascar Dragon, he closed the gap between them with the weird leaps that the Rapascar Dragon use to travel. If Garett was surprised by the sudden burst of speed then he didn't show it.

Garett dug his bladed feet in the ground, taking a leaf out of Aya's book, to stop himself going forward and changing his direction. He contorted his body in inhuman ways to evade two swings from Aya's fists.

So much for the element of surprise.

Aya nearly smiled when Garett copied his move. Garett stabbed at Aya but the latter leaped back. Garett gave a chase but he didn't have to because Aya sprung forward almost immediately using his tail.

There was a whooshing sound.

"Where?" Aya said as Garett disappeared in front of him. He then felt a blade bite into his right side. Garett was at his side! "Got you," Aya said. He grabbed Garett's arm by the base of his blade, wrapping his fingers on the silvery plates.

Aya concentrated on the spell his first master taught him, the 'incomplete spell' as she called it. Through his fingers, he searched for a bond, a spark, any mana line, even a spindly thread that he could connect to and began casting the spell that would never be finished. Finding it, he cast the spell, burning his own mana, every drop of it. The spell also caught on the mana of Garett and began to burn it as well.

Garett immediately sensed something was wrong and tried to pull back but Aya held fast. He sliced at Aya to shake him off but Aya caught his other arm and also cast the same spell again. The layers covering the arms of Garett began to peel off as layer after layer of mana coating was burned off.

During this time, Aya's meager mana pool was also dissipated several times but he has trained himself not to faint when his mana ran out. His tiny mana capacity was normal for void mages but it was also the reason why he was able to push his mana purity to levels that were nearly inhumanly possible. He needed a high level of purity to make sure that the burn of his mana would continue and also burn the mana of his target. The spell would use his own mana to fuel itself; how far it would travel in a mana system, interconnecting mana lines, would depend on the initial burn.

This was the gift of his first master to him. A spell where you could force others to cast it with you.

The only spell of that kind.

An unfinished spell, one where you would just begin casting but never finish.

"Grakker," Garett exclaimed. By this time, he already realized that Aya was steadily peeling off all his protections. "Let go of me."

The joints of Garett arms ballooned, stretching the silver skin until it became transparent, showing through the raging orange mana inside.

Then it exploded.

Like pin pricks to her lungs. That was the pain she felt each time her chest heaved to breathe. She wanted to breathe shallowly to ease the pain but she shouldn’t do that because she might faint from lack of oxygen. What was important now was that she should concentrate on controlling her body. Princess Adelind tried to manage her breathing as she sat in the middle of a circle of hooded figures.

Eight of them, wearing purple robes with golden dragon designs, surrounded the princess, kneeling down on the floor, marking eight points of a magical circle that was drawn on the ground. The circle was formed with glowing purple lines, intricate designs that made Adelind’s head spin when she looked at them.

Their job was to amplify her Bloodline for the coming-of-age ceremony later.

This was going to be her first transformation. After this, it would be easier to transform afterward. Her father always told her that the first one was the hardest. Her father didn’t have any difficulty in transforming, though. Her father told her that he was alone in this very room she was in when he transformed his colossal dragon form. Time and time again he would assure her that she would also be able to go through the process smoothly.

Yet, here she was.

She rarely felt self-pity or getting frustrated with herself but she couldn’t help it at this time.

Two dozen people wearing plain white robes formed an outer circle controlling a twenty-four-point healing seal superimposed on the first magical circle. They were the highest ranked healers in the empire, sworn to secrecy that they were directly attending to the needs of the royal family. Such was the confidentiality shrouding this process that they would be mind-wiped afterward. Adelind felt a bit guilty towards them but she knew that they were doing their duty to the empire, to the throne and to the First Emperor in keeping his Bloodline alive. She should do her duty as well, this would simply be a fleeting moment of pain. Princess Adelind calmed herself somewhat, reassured that the healers were present and were not going to let her body fail.

She could feel the soothing magic washing over her body from the powerful healing seal counteracting the severe gnawing in her veins. She concentrated in keeping calm while her insides were on fire. Why was she so weak? Her father didn’t have to go through this. It bothered her that this many people had to support her. She was surprised with herself that she was more concerned appearing strong rather than not dying in her transformation.

It goes without saying, they weren’t simply going to let the princess die because she couldn’t handle her own transformation, but still, it was frustrating for her to be this weak.

“Princess, I know you can control it. We are here for you,” Andaera, her head maid said. "We know that you can do it. The First Emperor smiles upon you this day."

Princess Adelind smiled despite the pain. Andaera looked at her, her face full of concern. The head maid sat on the outer magical seal and was one of the healers supporting her. She placed her hands down on a small circle in front of her which was connected to the healing seal, constantly channelling green healing energy. Andaera wasn’t a simple attendant. She was also a Full Ranked Healer, a fact that Adelind came to know only moments ago. There were so many things that the princess only learned that day.

Apparently, she was there in case the princess was gravely injured.

Adelind mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Andaera before closing her eyes. I hope she won’t be angry that she will be mind-wiped after this. Adelind forced herself to breathe deeply despite the pain. There were so many people who were there to help here. She couldn’t fail them, nor could she fail her parents, nor could she fail the empire.

The Empire needs the Dragon to lead them. That was what her father told her as she drunk the blood of a dragon that was deemed most suited for her.

Before going to the final match of the tournament, her father accompanied her to a secret room in the castle. One where she hasn’t been in despite living in the castle her whole life.

Inside, she met a Devastator Knight whom she hadn’t met before. The knight had a differently designed pauldron compared to others, a red and golden shoulder guard with dragon designs engraved on it. She didn’t know if the Devastator Knight was male or female since they only talk straight into one’s mind if they were wearing their armor but he was very nice to her. He introduced himself only as the “Keeper of the Dragon’s Blood.”

Adelind clenched her teeth hard as the pain steadily increased. It was as if her veins were being inflated. If the healers weren’t there, she would have already fainted. She could feel tears forming on her eyes. She shut her eyes tight as if afraid that tears would fall.

This must be the dragon's blood waking my own Bloodline. She knew that there were instances where her ancestors died during the transformation but that was a couple of hundred years ago. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen now.

A Bloodline that transforms a body was very rare, even rarer for it not to have specific restrictions on inheritance. Every direct descendant of the First Emperor has the possibility of being able to transform, however, not all of them could actually do it on their own. The ones who could do it without any outside assistance were so far in between that the royal family had to resort to certain methods to make sure that the one who leads the empire could always transform into a dragon.

A symbol. The most powerful symbol in the history of Forkspear.

A symbol that holds together the empire, that holds together the Bloodline families, that holds together people.

A symbol that five hundred years ago, they were on the brink of destruction yet they prevailed despite all odds.

It was imperative that she transformed. Unfortunately, she couldn't do it on her own, like most of her ancestors. That was why she needed to ingest the blood of a dragon deemed compatible with her to jumpstart the process.

Dragon's blood was very scarce in Forkspear. Who knew where the dragons were hiding or if they were many left, that was why her family had a storage of dragon's blood in the castle to make sure that all their descendants could transform.

There may come a time when they have to import dragon's blood from overseas.

Adelind let out a gasp of surprise. All the healers looked at her and pumped in more healing energy. The eight purple robed individuals didn't even flinch but continued with steadily supporting her because they knew what was happening.

She felt a different sensation that stood out from the waves of pain she felt. An itching on the back of her hand.

She opened her eyes slowly, a bit apprehensive to see the results.

"It's...it's...my skin. It's changing," she said with tears falling down her cheeks despite her best efforts to control her emotions.

Scales started to form on her hand.