The First Patriarch: Streaming My Cosmic Harem

The moment the fluid hit his throat, the agonizing void in his stomach receded slightly.

Azriel gasped for air, his dulling eyes flashing with a brief wave of relief as he collapsed onto his elbows.

Then, the true hell began.

A scorching, catastrophic heat exploded from his gut, shooting through his bloodstream like liquid fire.

It was a wave of agonizing pain unlike anything he had ever experienced in his past life or this one.

His dissolving muscle fibers tore apart completely, only to be forcibly reknitted and fused back together by the dense blood essence.

His bones groaned under the excruciating restructuring, being compressed and forged into something far denser, far stronger.

Azriel squirmed on the shattered dirt, letting out hoarse, choked groans as the liquid fire reworked his entire internal structure from the inside out.

[LIVE CHAT]

[Sadistic69] (Red): HOLY SHIT!! HE IS EVOLVING HIS BLOODLINE?! THE PAIN MUST BE UNREAL!!

[Nine_Tailed_Vixen] (Cyan): He didn’t complain once...

[Lusty_Sera] (Golden): A true monarch endures the flames of rebirth. Watch his body mold into pure perfection!

[Moon_Priestess_99] (Cyan): Don’t pass out, Azriel! Keep your eyes open!! You can do it!!!

Vesperia watched the agonizing transformation with sharp, approving interest.

Taking one final drag from her cigarette, she dropped the embers onto the dirt.

The butt ignited into a brief white flame, its aether-filled ash blowing away in the wind.

"Keep your eyes open, Azriel," Vesperia warned, her voice cutting through the ringing in his ears like a cold blade.

"Lose consciousness now, and the bloodline essence will consume your mind."

Hearing her cold command, Azriel let out another hoarse, brutal groan.

Gritting his blood-stained teeth, he forced his eyelids to stay wide open, staring straight up into the clear blue sky above the open arena.

The grueling process raged on for a brutal half-hour.

Gradually, the blinding heat receded, leaving behind a profound, blissful coolness that swept over his rebuilt nervous system.

Azriel lay flat on his back, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged gasps.

The dull, pain-filled haze in his violet eyes slowly cleared, replaced by a radiant, terrifyingly sharp light.

His skin-tight black training clothes were drenched and sticky with a thick, foul-smelling black sludge, impure toxins, and dead cells flushed out by his bloodline’s evolution.

A dark pool of the foul liquid surrounded him on the dirt floor.

The stench was appalling, but Azriel didn’t care in the slightest.

He just lay there in the middle of the shattered crater, staring up at the vast sky, letting his newly forged muscles soak in the absolute stillness of survival.

Without moving his head, he let out a low, raspy exhale.

"Can I get a cigarette?"

Vesperia’s golden eyes flickered with genuine amusement.

A slow, approving smile spread across her face.

With a subtle flick of her wrist, the slim silver box materialized back in her hand.

She plucked a single cigarette from inside, her slender fingers briefly glowing with a faint crimson hue as she carefully purged every trace of raw aether from the tobacco.

Raw, unrefined aether was far too destructive for an Awakener’s internal pathways, only those who had advanced to the Adept rank could handle its volatile energy without tearing their meridians apart.

Once cleansed, she tossed the cigarette casually through the air.

Azriel watched the cigarette trace a smooth arc against the vast blue sky.

As it descended, he raised a hand caked in black impurities, catching it effortlessly between his index and middle fingers.

He brought it to his lips.

With a crisp snap of Vesperia’s fingers, a tiny, concentrated flame flickered to life right at the tip, lighting the tobacco instantly.

A faint smile touched Azriel’s lips as he caught the warm glow of the ember.

He took a long, deep drag, then let his arm fall heavily back onto the stained dirt.

The heat bloomed deep within his chest, expanding through his lungs before he exhaled a thick plume of pale gray smoke toward the sky.

A rich, surprisingly sweet yet fiery spice coated his palate, cutting cleanly through the foul stench of the purged impurities around him.

"It’s good," Azriel murmured, a quiet, dark smirk returning to his face as his violet eyes glinted with triumph.

He took a few more slow, deliberate drags, watching the grey smoke drift upward into the afternoon sky until the tobacco burned down to its end.

With a subtle turn of his wrist, he pressed the glowing butt into the thick layer of black sludge beside him, smothering the ember instantly.

Vesperia stood over him, her arms crossed beneath her heavy chest as she looked down at his ruined clothes with a mixture of satisfaction and mild disgust.

"Enough lounging around," Vesperia said, stepping back from the edge of the crater. "Go clean that filthy gunk off yourself. Take a bath and get into a fresh set of gear."

She turned toward the center of the arena, her silver braid swaying rhythmically across her back as her golden eyes flashed with an ominous, expectant glint.

"Hurry up," she added over her shoulder, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Your real training starts the second you step back out here."

Azriel didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed himself up from the shattered earth, his newly forged muscles shifting beneath his skin with an effortless, terrifying density.

The gravity bands were still active, yet his body adapted to the crushing weight with remarkable ease, the heavy strain now feeling like a second skin.

Sliding off the floor, he made his way back toward the subterranean facilities, leaving a trail of dark, foul-smelling footprints behind.

Inside the private bathing chamber, Azriel stripped off the ruined, sludge-drenched training suit and stepped directly beneath a heavy cascade of hot, enchanted spring water.

As the steaming water washed away the black impurities, he looked into the large wall mirror. His body had undergone a subtle yet profound transformation.

His muscles were noticeably more defined, woven tightly like steel cables, and his razor-sharp V-taper looked as though it had been forged for pure, unadulterated violence.

Ding!

A crisp chime echoed within his mind, followed by the floating glow of the System interface.

[BLOODLINE EVOLUTION COMPLETED]

[Abyssal Ardor Bloodline: D Rank ➔ C- Rank]

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