Lysandra studied him carefully before answering. "The ancestor's blood is said to bestow many blessings on the one who sits on the throne."

"Just blessings?" Damon raised a brow.

Lysandra immediately became defensive. "Don't underestimate it. The drop of blood is from our founding ancestor. It contains his condensed essence. Its power is limitless. In the right hands, it is even capable of destroying an entire world!" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

She exhaled slowly and stopped in front of a grand hall. Damon could see the throne at the far end. "That is… only in the right hands." She continued. "What you gain will depend on what you are capable of." Some contempt flashed in her eyes briefly before it disappeared.

Damon did not care. What he wanted to know was if he could actually gain something from this drop of blood. Until now, the memory worlds have not exactly rewarded anything except for a small memory shard.

Thankfully, he had his extraction skill, which had helped him accumulate some skills. Even that was not efficient because most scenarios did not exactly require fighting. But this memory world was different. It was almost as if it were exactly tailor-made for him.

Could it be a coincidence? No way. Damon was sure of it. Perhaps the golden memory storms had a high risk and high reward rule. If he managed to clear this world, then he could potentially gain a lot from it, but if he failed… then what happened to Necrogod was probably waiting for him.

Even though the loss of stats wouldn't affect him so much, there was always a chance that both the rewards and punishments were tailor-made for him. He wouldn't put it past the system to cook up something like that.

Huuuu…. Damon exhaled, clearing his mind. He did not want to think about failing just yet. First, he needed to see just what this drop of blood was and if he could potentially assimilate it all with his bloodline.

If he somehow managed to do that, then he was pretty sure he could bring out the full power of the blood essence. He looked around the throne room again and then asked the silver-haired woman. "So where is the drop of blood?"

Immediately, Lysandra raised a brow. "Why are you asking me that? Do you not feel it?"

"Hmmmm?" Damon did not like where this was going. "Humor me. Tell me everything you know."

Lysandra gave him a look. "Did you already sit on the throne without waiting for your coronation?"

Damon gazed at the throne. "Isn't there a war coming? Why wait for formalities?"

Another look of contempt flashed past the woman's face. "If you already sat on the throne and the blood essence did not react to you, then there is nothing anyone can do about it. Asking me about these things is pointless. Not me, not even the elders can help you. You are either chosen or not."

Damon stepped past her and into the grand hall, making the woman frown harder. "Do you really think that sitting on it multiple times would work? It's useless. Just give up. I need to return to the banquet hall and inform others about this. If you couldn't even make the blood essence react, then certain other arrangements have to be made."

Without waiting for his reply, Lysandra turned and began walking toward the doors of the grand hall, her silver hair swaying behind her. Whatever hope she had briefly entertained had now died, and she did not want to linger around any longer.

Damon did not stop her. He did not defend himself either. Instead, he walked forward, his eyes fixed on the throne at the far end of the hall. When these people talked about power resting with the throne, he did not think that they had meant it very literally.

The throne stood on a raised platform beneath a high vaulted ceiling carved with ancient symbols. It did not look decorative. It looked old and simple. It was just plain black in color. Was this really special?

"So all I have to do is sit on the throne, and I should be able to access it?" He walked forward and sat down on the throne.

For a moment, he felt something, even expected something to happen, but in the end, nothing changed at all. Nothing lit up. Nothing shook. Nothing entered his body. The throne was still pitch black, and there was no drop of blood. Nothing dramatic or even subtle happened.

"Damn it." Damon already had a feeling but this confirmed it. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from a golden rank world. But why did this thing not even react? Is it because I am a different person? Or is it because the heir is not talented enough?"

Damon thought about it for a while. He still did not completely understand the mechanics of these memory worlds. When he entered a memory world, does he become that person or the others simply perceived him to be that person? He had no clue. This throne or rather the drop of blood might not have reacted for many reasons. Heck, maybe the heir wasn't even of royal lineage?

Damon clearly remembered a popular story line from the earth online world. A King had actually hid his true heir and a fake one replaced him for several decades. When the enemy finally revealed themselves and slaughtered the fake prince, the real one showed himself. Perhaps this was a similar situation?

Or maybe the guy was simply cuckolded and refused to accept it. There could be plenty of explanations.

Damon looked at the throne again and let out a sigh. A drop of blood powerful enough to destroy a world? His heart ached to leave such a precious thing behind.

He paused for a while and then summoned a blood avatar. "Why don't you stay back here just in case?" He then walked out of the throne room back to the banquet hall. All was not lost. There was a war coming and he intended to make full use of it.