Facing Obstacles

Cain's eyes remained closed, thinking about his current predicament which put him in a bind. Everything truly did have its pros and cons, and bloodlines weren't exempt from this. He inspected his bloodlines again, trying to reconfirm the issue.

"A complete shackle," he commented with an unamused tone. "This is almost equivalent to raising livestock."

He was a little lucky, because normally he wouldn't even be aware of the drawbacks of bloodlines. Those at the top hid such information away from the world to protect their own fragile egos and to mask their weaknesses.

Bloodlines were both good and bad. Good in the sense that it was a quick path to power, in fact very few could compare when it came to the speed at which those with bloodlines advanced. Another advantage was the inherent ability that only those with bloodlines possessed, making them a head above the common folks.

However, the negatives were quite alarming.

The first and most basic, being that those with bloodlines could never surpass their primogenitors. Given that their primogenitors were gods, it meant only one thing; Bloodkins were unable to achieve godhood. For someone like Cain, whose end goal was a god amongst gods, this was simply unacceptable.

Granted, very few could ever achieve godhood; in fact the probability of reaching godhood was infinitesimal. Cain knew little about immortals and even more so about gods but at least he was somewhat aware of this. Even achieving immortality was a very arduous task that belonged only to the elite of the elites.

He didn't know much about godhood but anyone with a functioning brain could guess how difficult it was. So it begged the question, did people with bloodlines really get the short end of the stick?

For others the answer may be no, it could be considered a pretty good deal; guaranteed strength in exchange for sacrificing your miniscule chance at becoming a god. It sure looked like a no-brainer. Most inhabitants of Raoina didn't even know about the existence of gods, in fact most hadn't even seen immortals as they always surfaced only on special occasions.

So it was okay, ignorance served as a mighty gate against the whirlwinds of truth. If one didn't know about it, then possessing a bloodline was perfect. Even if some knew about it, it could still be considered a good deal. After all, being guaranteed to become even a mere mortal in a world that celebrated the strong was a fair deal.

However, it didn't stop there.

Another issue was, bloodline users could never oppose their primogenitors. It was an absolute obedience and servitude for them. If your primogenitor commanded you to kill yourself, then without question, that command was absolute. Your own blood would betray you in the blink of an eye.

Nevertheless, the disadvantages didn't end there. The clincher was the last problem; each and every bloodline acted as a vessel for their primogenitors. The higher the bloodline, the better the vessel. It only meant that their bodies did not belong to them, they were akin to back up plans for these gods should they meet their untimely demise.

Cain studied himself, he remembered when he was a little glad with his bloodline content, which was frighteningly high but thinking about it now; he realised his own stupidity. He didn't know if the Ashel primogenitor was still alive but one thing was for sure, he was the prime vessel should the said god decide on it.

These discoveries were certainly a hard pill to swallow. But, as he sat there in the cave mulling over this issue, questions sprang up in his mind and he couldn't help but voice out his thoughts.

"If the immortals are aware of this, then why didn't they just switch bodies? After all, blood was only attached to the physical body."

He knew that immortals were not stupid and they probably arrived at such a question before. His whole assumption was based on the hypothetical foundation that the immortals were actually aware of the drawbacks of bloodlines. So the only answer was;

"It's either there's something else which prevents them from doing so which I can't perceive currently, — " he tapped his index finger on his right thigh. " — which I'm assuming to be related to the soul itself"

That just made the situation exceedingly dangerous if that was the case. The soul was the domain of immortals. It wasn't something that a measly mortal like himself could completely understand or even tamper with.

"Or maybe it's something else entirely," he added, trying to water down the issue and give himself a little comfort.

He didn't know the answer and could only guess. After all, if one could just switch bodies easily, then it wouldn't be that much of an issue. But, he knew that whatever the case may be, it wasn't a good outcome.

He concluded that this was reason why the bloodmages suppressed those without bloodlines. Although people without bloodlines couldn't hope to match the speed at which those with bloodlines advanced, they had what the bloodkins couldn't hope to have — freedom.

Even if said freedom was still limited, considering that they were under the rule of bloodkins, it was still better than being subjected to the whims of someone else.

Thinking of this, he let out a dry mocking laugh, "Even the almighty immortal bloodmages are nothing but stale and pathetic cannon fodders. If an immortal can't even control their own life, then what use is their immortality when even a commoner has more freedom than them."

It was really absurd to him. Right now, his views on bloodmages changed drastically. All of them trying to advance in ranks but to what end? To forever be subjected to slavery? Because that's what it looked like to him — slavery.

"If only the commoners were aware of the gift they had."

But the denizens weren't aware of this, in fact he was sure that most of the mages were in the dark about this. Most were still under the influence of the blue pill of ignorance, unaware of absolutely anything all thanks to the ruling party — bloodmages. However, he had taken that red pill, stepping out from the shadows of obscurity.

He didn't know if the immortals in his family were aware of this, but if they were, they certainly did not disclose such information to their members

"So much for familial bond," he chuckled. "But I can't blame them, revealing such information changes nothing when a solution isn't in place."

Still, it was a fact that; if he was asked to choose to be a bloodmage or not, with this new found information, he would choose the latter in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, he didn't have such luxury.

However, his problem didn't end there, the other bloodline was another major issue. It was like he was being held at gunpoint, completely at the mercy of the shooter.

Thinking of this, his anger began to rise again but he calmed himself. Anger wouldn't solve the issue with his primary bloodline.

He sighed, "Everything still traces back to its inception. I should have known that things weren't as appealing as they seemed to be."

When he scrutinised his iron bloodline, he discovered what looked like a cell, comprised solely of little dots and numbers. It kept dividing itself as it slowly devoured the other 'normal' looking cells. It was as if he looked through a microscope as he observed the cell sneakily replacing the other cells with itself.

Now, given the sheer amount of cell division that went on each and everyday, one would say this was completely normal. However, Cain didn't have the luxury to think as such because somehow — almost instinctual — he knew what that foreign cell was.

It was the A.I part of himself, slowly encroaching on the territory of his other cells. What would happen when it fully completed its task? Well that answer was simple, he would probably be no more.

Everything became clear to him. How his voice sometimes became monotonic, almost robot like. How his body wasn't even under his control till he reached a certain age. He had thought it was just solely because his consciousness was too heavy for an infant, but now he knew better.

The clues were always there, staring at him in the face. The fact still remained that the A.I itself was one with him, but right now it was separating itself from him; almost like a split personality.

Still, he knew this was just scratching the surface. Since both him and the A.I were one and the same, he was almost sure that the same thing was probably happening in his soul — if his theory on bloodlines deeply connected to souls proved true.

Was he lucky that he at least had the Ashel bloodline act as a last defense? Definitely not! He was just like a spectator, witnessing a battle between two hegemons vying for a prize which in this case was himself.

He was the perfect vessel for the Ashel primogenitor and the A.I part of himself wanted a complete takeover. So now, not only did he have to deal with his Ashel bloodline, even his iron bloodline became a hindrance in his eyes. He vaguely felt that, the higher he advanced in ranks, the more troublesome it would become, eventually reaching a point where it was irreversible.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place and he currently had no solution for them. His forehead creased, right now he was completely stuck. He sat there in the cave thinking long and hard about his situation not noticing that a few more hours had passed.

Questions sprang up but were immediately discarded due to the unavailability of answers. It was like he was playing squash, constantly hitting questions at a solid wall only to be rebound to him with more questions.

Noticing that he had spent a lot of time in the cave, with seemingly no answers to his questions, he decided to leave. The forbidden forest served no purpose to him anymore.

He stood up and was about to exit the cave but realised something, his appearance had reverted to his previous human outlook albeit with a slight difference — his body was slimmer. But that was where the difference ended, as everything regained their prior exterior.

Even his insides, most especially his heart, looked as if it never went through a transformation as it became a deep red once more. However, he knew it was just a façade, judging from the heavy blood being pumped throughout his body.

He clenched his fist and could feel the raw power contained in them.

"Shapeshifting?" he asked rhetorically. But thinking about it for sometime, he shook his head. "No, this isn't shapeshifting, this is just merely a veil over my true form."

He paused, scrutinizing himself intently and came to a plausible conclusion, "An illusion maybe?"

Although this was a minor problem, considering that he couldn't deceive the eyes of immortals and even some breaking tier entities, he had prepared an explanation for this in the event that such a thing happened.

He pushed the bloodline issue to the back of his mind temporarily. There wasn't any use in crying over spilled milk. Whatever problem he had, he would face it head on.

"Even if it means destroying a part of my soul to erase this problem, I will do it without flinching."

His resolve was tougher than the toughest of diamonds. Even though his current situation and future looked bleak, he would not despair. Not even the overturning of seas and mountains, or the destruction of the world would make him lose focus on his goal.

His path was linear, there was no right nor left, only obstacles. He was going to obliterate those obstacles — whatever they were — to achieve his goal of godhood by any means necessary.