Rise of the Primordial Dragon beast tamer-Chapter 47: The bloodline curse. (lll)

Azvoid's muscles trembled under the weight of his own power. The True Dragon's Ascension was like a firestorm raging through his veins, its heat both a blessing and a curse. With every passing second, his physique adapted, refined, evolved. But it wasn't a gentle process. Far from it.

"Feel it, Azvoid!" Noctis roared, his voice a thundering command. "The True Dragon's Ascension isn't just a technique. It's a tempering. A trial by fire meant to awaken the essence of your bloodline. To draw you closer to what you were truly meant to be."

Azvoid's fists clenched, his knuckles cracking under the pressure. "Feels more like being put through a meat grinder," he hissed, his voice strained but tinged with fierce determination.

"And yet, you endure. Good. Now, listen well." Noctis's tone grew darker, more serious. "The True Dragon's Ascension forces your bloodline to burn away impurities. The weak parts of your essence will be torn apart and replaced by true strength. But that's not all."

Azvoid's eyes narrowed as he continued to tear through waves of shadow beasts. His movements were smoother, stronger, more instinctive. But there was a price. His entire body felt like it was being scorched and frozen at the same time. The pain was unbearable. And yet... also addictive.

"By slaying these creatures, you're feeding your bloodline. The energy released from their deaths isn't just enhancing you — it's being absorbed, refined, and converted to further purify your essence. But the true key lies in your will."

"My will?" Azvoid echoed, his mind fighting against the storm of agony ripping through him.

"Yes. Your bloodline is powerful, but it's still only a part of you. If you let it, it will devour you. Subjugate you. The True Dragon's Ascension forces your bloodline to acknowledge your authority. To recognize you as its master."

Azvoid grinned despite the pain, his eyes gleaming with exhilaration. "So, it's a taming game, huh? Sounds like something I'm good at."

"More than that," Noctis rumbled. "It's a battle of dominance. Your will against the primal nature of your bloodline. Fail, and you'll be nothing more than a vessel for its wrath. But if you succeed... you'll draw closer to true power. To the very essence of the Ancient True Primordial Dragons."

The words hit Azvoid like a sledgehammer. His bloodline, the legacy of the most powerful beings to ever exist, was fighting against him. Testing him. And the True Dragon's Ascension was the tool he needed to shatter those chains.

"Let's see just how stubborn you are, then." His voice was a low growl, tinged with madness and excitement. His senses sharpened to a razor's edge as he plunged deeper into the storm of beasts, each kill releasing a torrent of energy that surged into his body.

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But now, he could feel it. How the technique actually worked.

With each beast slain, the released energy wasn't just absorbed. It was dissected, stripped of its impurities, and then merged with his own power in a brutal but efficient process. His bloodline, once a raging force of chaos, was slowly but surely bending to his will.

The True Dragon's Ascension had three critical phases:

Purification: The technique burned away the flawed and weak aspects of his bloodline, the parts corrupted by lesser talents or tainted by imperfect power. The Frost Emperor talent, powerful as it was, found itself being refined and molded, elevated beyond its original form.

Integration: The purified essence was then merged with Azvoid's own power, reinforcing his physique, enhancing his senses, and further refining his control over the talents he wielded. His muscles swelled with power, his bones strengthened with the density of an ancient beast's skeleton. Even his mind felt sharper, clearer, as if every nerve had been honed by sheer willpower.

Domination: The most crucial phase. Where his bloodline sought to rebel, to overthrow his control, he asserted his will. His very soul clamped down upon the raging force within him, forcing it to submit. His bloodline didn't merely accept him as its master. It feared him.

Azvoid could feel it. The way his Phantom Reflex became even more untouchable, his movements like shadows dancing between flashes of ice. The Frost Emperor talent was evolving, reshaping itself to fit his newly tempered body. It was now sharper, colder, fiercer — the Frost Dragon Sovereign Art.

A howl tore through the air as a creature twice the size of the rest lunged toward him, a monstrosity of shadow and flame. Its maw opened wide, flames dripping from its fangs like molten metal.

Azvoid smirked. "Alright then. Let's see if you're worth the trouble."

He met the beast head-on, his fist colliding with its skull with a force that shattered bone and sent a spray of darkness splattering through the air.

More. More beasts flooded toward him, but each one fell before his might. His bloodline devoured their energy, refined it, and absorbed it. Every kill brought him closer to his true potential. But every step forward also drew him closer to the curse.

A faint, sickly pulse throbbed within him. It was still distant, but undeniably real.

"Good, good." Noctis's tone was laced with excitement. "You're progressing faster than I expected. But be warned, Azvoid. The stronger you grow, the more the curse will try to tear you apart. And if you're not prepared when it fully awakens..."

Azvoid's eyes burned with defiance. "Then I'll just have to be stronger than it."

"That's the spirit." Noctis's shadowy form loomed over him, his grin wicked and approving. "Now, let's push this to the limit. If you want to master the True Dragon's Ascension, you need to make your bloodline grovel before your will. Fight until nothing dares to defy you."

"Bring it on." Azvoid's voice was a growl, his aura flaring with a mix of darkness and frost. "I'll turn this curse into nothing but a stepping stone. Now, let's keep going."