Chapter 72: Fanged Elf Blessing Bestowal
After reaching the gate entrance to the rift leading into the Nightbloom Dukedom, Elton and Shayleaf were escorted off of the flying magical vehicle by guards under the Nightbloom family's command and into the rift.
The moment they stepped through, Elton froze. Inside was not a tunnel, not a passage—but an entirely new world. A barrier stretched across the horizon, surrounding vast lands inscribed with countless glowing runes, all pulsing in rhythm with the enormous golden fanged branch connected to the great Fanged Elf World Tree.
"It's truly amazing," Elton said, taking a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
"Hehe, it is for sure, Brother Elly! Guards, lead us to our destination!" Shayleaf chirped, full of excitement.
The guards—a mixture of elves and other races—watched curiously as they escorted the strange pair. For them, the sight of a Fanged Elf royal happily traveling with a human was unusual, even unsettling. Yet none dared to voice their thoughts.
Their path ended at a private mansion, spotless and seemingly prepared in advance for Elton and Shayleaf. Waiting at the entrance was Seraphiel.
"Big sister Seraphiel! Hi!" Shayleaf rushed forward and hugged her.
Seraphiel embraced her warmly, patting her head. Then she turned to Elton with a faintly awkward smile. "Greetings to you… Margrave Solman."
Elton bowed respectfully. "Lady Seraphiel."
"From now on, aside from the servants caring for you, I'll also check in from time to time. And more importantly… I will bestow upon you the Blessing of our Fanged Elves."
Elton blinked, confusion plain on his face. "Blessing of the Fanged Elves? What does that entail?"
"Come inside," Seraphiel replied.
She led them to a sealed chamber deep within the mansion. Its walls resembled bark fused with stone, etched with inscriptions that pulsed faintly. In the center, a vast magic circle covered the floor.
"Shay, stand by this node and channel your energy into it. Oh? You've already broken through… Did you two already… nevermind. Margrave Solman, sit in the middle of the circle."
Her rapid commands left Elton and Shayleaf awkward and blushing, their earlier synchronized cultivation already exposed.
"This blessing will attune you to certain natural cultivation talents of our tribe," Seraphiel explained. "It will also soften the rejection other elves might feel toward you. With it, you may even grasp some of our elven magics. Though if your affinity is too low, it may not matter much. Regardless—open yourself, relax, and accept."
Without waiting for a reply, Seraphiel summoned her magic. A radiant orb appeared at her side, glowing brighter as she began a low chant. Inscriptions lit across the chamber walls.
Elton grunted as immense pressure bore down on him. Then, from the energy gathering overhead, a nature spirit-like entity slowly formed. Its body shone with green light, its expression curious… until its eyes shifted, glowing an otherworldly gold and green.
Seraphiel's chant faltered. Her face went pale.
Outside the dukedom, the golden fanged branch trembled. Ancient inscriptions surfaced across its surface, glowing with light. The World Tree itself shivered, vibrations carrying up to its crown. Every expert on the tree—Silver Tier 5, Golden Lords, even Mortal Shedding experts—jerked awake, alarm and confusion spreading through the upper realms.
Far within the Nightbloom Dukedom, a Forbidden Tower stirred. This sacred retreat was only accessible to the Nightbloom family's retired elites—Gold Tier 4 and above. Tonight, its silence shattered.
Four men and two women emerged from their cultivation chambers, their elegant forms preserved by the longevity of elven blood. Their presence alone made the runes lining the tower glow faintly.
They gathered in the central chamber, where all but one bowed to Aerolian Nightbloom, former Duke of the Dukedom and father of Aeloria. The one who did not bow was his uncle, a Mortal Shedding Realm powerhouse whose very aura carried the weight of centuries.
"What was that just now?" one elf asked, brows knit.
"It felt like an ancestral call," another muttered.
Aerolian frowned. "Yes… something unlike anything I've sensed before. Perhaps…" His gaze drifted. "I'll need to ask my daughter if she knows more."
The uncle closed his eyes, fingers pressed to his chin. "It was like lightning in my soul. I sensed a Nature Spirit, but it was irregular. I'm seventy percent sure it originated here, in our dukedom."
The room grew tense.
"That alone isn't disastrous," he continued, "but it will give our enemies an excuse to stir trouble. Aerolian, hurry and break into the Mortal Shedding Realm so I can hand this burden off to you already."
Aerolian gave a bitter chuckle. "Uncle, I'm not so sure I'll ever reach it. But Aeloria… she may very well surpass me."
As if on cue, the tower doors opened.
Aeloria Nightbloom entered. Her golden hair flowed behind her, eyes blazing with quiet fire. The runes of the tower pulsed faintly in recognition of her bloodline.
"My sweet daughter," Aerolian said, surprised. "You came fast."
Aeloria bowed. "Father. Elders."
The uncle's eyes widened. "Hahaha! Look at her cultivation—already nearly at the Mortal Shedding Realm!"
The chamber filled with murmurs of praise before silence reclaimed the air.
Aerolian stepped forward. "So tell me, what exactly is going on?"
Aeloria hesitated, then answered firmly. "What you felt… was the result of a Fanged Elf Blessing Bestowal."
The room froze.
She continued. "And it concerns the human I mentioned before. But for now, the details must remain secret."
Even the ancient uncle was stunned. His gaze hardened. "This could bring disaster… or opportunity. Either way, we must prepare. Alert your grandfather—Grand Duke Aerlan."
Aeloria's expression stayed calm. "Yes. But don't worry. With Lady Shayleaf's involvement… I will handle this."
The room sank into heavy silence.