Rise of the Primordial Dragon beast tamer-Chapter 49: Evolving. (ll)

The moment Azvoid vanquished yet another twisted creature, his body trembled from the energy surging through his bloodline. His physique was steadily reforging under the merciless process of the True Dragon's Ascension. Muscles grew denser, bones sturdier, and his skin gained a slight metallic sheen, hinting at the powerful essence being forged within him.

"Noctis, enough with the cryptic remarks. I'm starting to get real tired of you always saying, 'The true challenge lies ahead.' Lay it out straight. What's the big picture here?" Azvoid said, his tone sharp with annoyance but also genuine curiosity.

A low chuckle echoed through his mind. "Fair enough. The True Dragon's Ascension isn't just a technique to strengthen your physique, Azvoid. It's a purification process. Your bloodline, as powerful as it is, has been diluted through countless generations. This trial seeks to force out all imperfections and impurities within it."

Azvoid's brows knitted together. "So, every monster I've been fighting..."

"Are the tainted fragments of your bloodline given form," Noctis confirmed. "But that's just the beginning. You're currently fighting the weakest aspects, the most obvious imperfections. As you destroy them, your bloodline becomes purer, your power more authentic. But once those impurities are cleared..."

Azvoid clenched his fists, his fingers crackling with icy energy from the Frost Emperor Talent. "What happens then?"

"That's when the True Dragon's Ascension enters its next phase—Bloodline Evolution. It's not enough to simply cleanse your bloodline. You must refine it, temper it, and elevate it to something far beyond its original state. You are the last descendant of the Supreme Ancient True Primordial Dragons. But to reach their level, you must push your limits and ascend past what they ever were."

Azvoid's eyes widened, his breath catching at the revelation. "And how exactly do I do that?"

"By confronting the true essence of your bloodline. After the impurities are cleared, the remnants of your heritage will solidify into a final trial, a manifestation of your bloodline's deepest power. You must conquer it, dominate it, and force it to submit to you. Only then will you begin to evolve."

Azvoid let out a shaky breath, his fingers trembling with a mixture of excitement and dread. This wasn't just a simple power-up. It was a process of ascension, a brutal, unforgiving path that demanded him to face his very origins and shatter the chains of weakness from within.

"Alright, I'm starting to get the picture. So, all these twisted creatures...they're just the small fry?"

"Yes," Noctis replied, voice rumbling with approval. "Destroying them strengthens your body and enhances your physical attributes to match your bloodline's potential. And with the technique I bestowed upon you, True Dragon's Ascension, your physique is being molded into something even greater. Something unique. Something that transcends mere draconic power."

Azvoid looked down at his hands, noting the faint glimmer of scales shimmering beneath his skin. His bloodline was changing, evolving, and his own unique talent—Wielder of Chaos—was merging with it in unimaginable ways.

"So... once I finish wiping these weaklings out, I face the true essence of my bloodline," Azvoid murmured, his tone filled with anticipation. "And once I conquer that, my bloodline will evolve to the next level?"

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"Yes," Noctis answered. "But be warned, Azvoid. The final trial will be nothing like the impurities you've faced so far. It will be the true manifestation of your heritage, the culmination of your bloodline's potential. And it will not submit easily."

Azvoid's grin was anything but sane. "Good. I'd be disappointed if it did."

He cracked his knuckles and readied himself. The air around him was already thickening with the presence of new monstrosities, each more ferocious and twisted than the last. But now he understood. They were nothing more than the trash his bloodline needed to expel. And he was the one to purge it.

Azvoid's consciousness drifted in the boundless darkness of his mental space, his body shuddering with each surge of power from the True Dragon's Ascension.

His bones groaned as if molten iron poured through them, a vicious yet revitalizing heat scorching his very essence. Muscles tore and reformed, denser, tougher, almost draconic in resilience. His blood bubbled like a brewing storm, ancient power and primal ferocity melding in a chaotic dance.

Azvoid's hands clenched and unclenched. His fingers had grown slender but powerful, his skin smoother and imbued with a faint ethereal glow. Hair as black as night with subtle streaks of deep purple flowed down, wilder yet regal. His face sharpened with an unearthly handsomeness, his jawline refined, and his eyes... Those obsidian eyes now gleamed with a predatory gleam, a hint of madness edged with divine clarity.

Noctis's deep voice rumbled through his consciousness.

"Good... Very good. Your bloodline's impurities are being forcefully expelled and purified. But it's not enough."

Azvoid grimaced as another ripple of agony seared his veins, his own blood rebelling against the change. The Imperfections — malformed wraiths of shadow and chaos — rose from the darkness, their twisted bodies embodiments of everything wrong within him.

"These things..." Azvoid's voice was rough, guttural. "They're all just... parts of me?"

"Yes," Noctis replied with a grim amusement. "The filth that taints your blood. To truly ascend, you must rid yourself of these weaknesses. Only then will your bloodline begin to evolve into something truly extraordinary."

Azvoid sneered, his aura flaring as arcs of frost-laden energy surged from his fingertips. The talent he'd recently replicated, Frost Emperor, surged to life, coating his surroundings with a glittering frost that shimmered like broken stars.

The Imperfections lunged, their grotesque forms a blur of claws and fangs. But Azvoid was faster. His hand swept forward, an elegant gesture of destruction.

"Frozen Oblivion!" he growled, his voice thrumming with the authority of ice itself.

Glacial spears erupted from the ground, skewering the shadowed creatures. Crystalline chains sprouted from his limbs, binding and crushing them with merciless precision. Yet for every Imperfection he destroyed, more emerged from the darkness.

Azvoid's breath came in ragged gasps. His body trembled, yet the power flowing through him only grew fiercer, more untamed. Each fallen Imperfection only served to enhance him, the very act of destruction purifying his bloodline.

Noctis chuckled, his voice filled with both approval and warning.

"Good. The deeper you cleanse, the more formidable your bloodline shall become. But also... the more vicious the Imperfections that will rise to challenge you."

Azvoid's lips curled into a wild grin. "Then let them come."

The froststorm around him intensified, merging with his aura until even the darkness itself seemed to freeze under his presence. His body continued to transform, muscle and sinew becoming more refined, almost divine.

But the real change lay deeper. His very blood was shifting, reforming into something purer, something far closer to the true power of a Primordial Dragon.

"True Dragon's Ascension, huh?" Azvoid murmured, flexing his fingers as frost energy coiled around them like serpents. "Looks like this technique isn't just improving my power... It's reforging me into something else entirely."

He glanced down at his bare arms, now pale and flawless, glimmering faintly with a silvery sheen. His aura was no longer just power — it was a force of nature. Icy, ruthless, and absolute.

Azvoid laughed, the sound cold and arrogant. "Whatever's left, I'll crush it. And when I do... I'll be reborn."