Made Up His Mind...

Osric sat in silence for a long while.

The Bloodline rang a bell. It was intimately familiar, yet he couldn't remember where and when he heard it. It almost felt as though he had always known about it, and yet he couldn't pinpoint precisely when and where he had. And this… left him in shock.

Even then, this shock still pale in comparison to the shock he felt when he finally comprehended the name of his Bloodline.

Osric seems to realize something at that point. If there was a word that best suited the name of his Bloodline, then it would be…

Domineering!

From being needlessly arrogant towards he, the owner of said Bloodline to bearing such an overbearing name. Osric couldn't think of any other word.

Empyrean. This was an Epithet even the true hegemons of the Martial Verse wouldn't dare to take on. It was an even more powerful Epithet than Divine. And yet, his Bloodline had casually taken such a name without suffering any setback from the Heavens.

No… It was more appropriate to say, whoever had created and named such a Bloodline had definitely looked the Heavens in the eye and spit on them, caring less about their reaction.

But, it was exactly because of this he felt his shock was not unfounded. One had to know that Bloodlines and Bodies, of all other Talents, had over ninety five percent chances of being inherited, as opposed to the others.

And when he thought of it though, he realized at that moment that his Bloodline was strange. No. That wasn't accurate. His whole existence was strange.

For one, his parents clearly didn't possess this Bloodline. If they did, just by the fact that the Bloodline deigned take on the Empyrean Epithet, even the Fahren Clan wouldn't pompously think themselves the undisputed ruler of the Divine Plane. And yet, he had been born with one.

Second, as far as he could remember, his parents had been born with mere Black Grade and Terrestrial Grade Talents. And yet, he was born with Talents even above Divine Grade.

Osric's brows suddenly furrowed. It couldn't be he was the reincarnation of a past expert, right? After all, there were no shortage of experts who in frustration or boredom chose to reincarnate themselves, just so they could correct the cultivational mistakes they had made in their past lives in their reincarnated live.

However, he shook his head. If that had been the case, the evidence would have shown itself when he awakened. But clearly, there were no memories of a past life nor was there an oddity to his Soul.

Speaking of his Soul, he suddenly shifted his attention from his Bloodline to it. His Bloodline would have to wait for awhile, as it appeared no matter how he tried to unravel its abilities, he was always met with an impregnable wall.

Just as Osric tried to approach his Soul, he felt his head spin, and a head-splitting headache assaulted him, eliciting a pained hiss from him.

He frowned. What was the problem with his Talents? First, it was his Bloodline trying pressure he, the owner of said Bloodline. Second, it was his Soul, clearly trying to do the same, as though to tell him he wasn't worthy of owning it.

If his other Talents were already like this, then he suddenly feared the reaction of his Dantian. Would it also try to pressure him?

However, he need not worry about such a thing at the moment. Until he reached the Meridian Opening Realm, there was no possible way he could get in contact with his Dantian.

As such, he shifted these strange matters to the back of his mind.

Osric took a deep breath before turning his attention towards his cultivation. It was about time he consolidated it.

*

When Osric awoken from his cultivation, a day had already past. His golden eyes shone for a moment before reverting back to their regal selves.

It was at this moment a foul smell assaulted his nasal senses. Without even investigating, Osric already knew where this smell came from.

He looked towards his own body, and beheld a grimy black liquid that stuck to his skin.

'Impurities…'

Impurities. This was another thing that differentiated cultivators from non-cultivators. It was the joy of every cultivator to shed impurities out of their bodies, as this made them a notch stronger, faster and generally healthier than their past selves.

However, when Osric looked at this impurities, it only made him frown. While it was true that cultivators' bodies shed impurities, that was only when they crossed from a major Realm to the next major Realm.

And clearly, Osric hadn't crossed the Nascent Realm, and yet, he was shedding impurities. He couldn't help but think back to the time he was comprehending his Body, in that dimension of sorts. His body had definitely ejected impurities, but… he hadn't taken it seriously. After all, wasn't that just an illusive world whose purpose was to aid in the comprehension of his Body?

'Was it real?'

Osric suddenly sighed. He felt he was getting nowhere. He had barely unravel the secrets regarding the strangeness of his Bloodline and Soul only to find himself in another.

He shook his head before standing up. His bones cracked and popped like thunder, causing a sweet wave of relief to wash over him. And then, he headed towards his bathroom.

*

When Osric finally felt prim, he felt a pang of hunger that threatened to sear his stomach. He had never felt such hunger before.

A moment later though, he understood. Although cultivators his level could go several weeks without feeling the weakness that came with hunger, that didn't mean they do not need food.

In fact, because of their stronger constitutions, they needed more food than any normal Mortal. Hence, the hunger Osric felt wasn't surprising.

Initially, Osric always ate the meat of normal animals, as that was what his body could withstood. Now though, he felt even a dozen animal wouldn't satisfy him.

Fortunately, he had stocked several Mystical Beasts' meat for this kind of situation. Thus, he wasn't helpless. He blazed through the meal, downing the grilled, smoked and fried flesh of the Mystical Beasts.

When Osric finally felt full, he sat on a chair and began to think of his next step. Currently, he could not be called a Fahren anymore. And that… wouldn't change in a lifetime. The Oath wasn't a concept that could be taken casually, after all.

'Although, the Fahren Clan would be the best place to cultivate and grow stronger, it would only dull my sharpness.

What I need however, is a place where no one knows me. That way, they can always attack me without the fear of offending the Fahren Clan.'

While all the powerhouses from the reaches of the Dark Edge Realm were now aware Osric had no relation with the Fahren Clan, that wouldn't stop them from still fearing the retaliation of the Fahrens if they attacked him.

As such, he wouldn't be able to forge himself the way he wanted. However, if he went to a place where none of its inhabitants had robust information about the Immortal World, let alone the even more terrifying Divine World, he would be able to act as he pleased.

And what place perfectly portrayed his thoughts if not the Mortal World?

Osric's gaze grew serious. He had made up his mind. The Mortal World would be his first steppingstone to invisibility.

At that moment though, a voice suddenly sounded in his ears.

"The Grand Hall."

Osric immediately tensed.