Chapter 137: Chapter 117: Do You Want to Be King? "But none of this is important." Ron patted Andre on the shoulder, casually changing the subject: "I suddenly have a question I’d like to ask you." "What question?" Andre was clearly curious about Ron’s bloodline secret, but he also understood there would be no answer if he pursued it further. "To be honest, Andre, have you ever thought about becoming the King?" Ron’s gaze was calm, his voice steady, as if he were merely asking what the other had for dinner today. This seemingly casual question was like a massive stone thrown into a tranquil lake, stirring up a colossal wave. Andre was thunderstruck, suddenly halting his steps, his golden vertical pupils instantly narrowing into dangerous slits. He instinctively looked around, his neck taut, gaze scanning every shadow by the roadside with a tension seemingly ready to repel an ambush. It took a few seconds for Andre to come to his senses, a hint of embarrassment and self-deprecation appearing in his eyes. He was no longer in the court but in the Black Mist Jungle, a place teeming with the extraordinary. Who would care here about the succession of a distant kingdom? This series of instinctive reactions did not escape Ron’s notice. He raised an intrigued eyebrow, it seemed the Thirteenth Prince indeed harbored some hidden ambitions. This was far more interesting than he had imagined. If the other just wanted to be a laid-back prince, becoming a marginalized figure upon returning to the Royal Capital, then Ron’s long-term plans would likely crumble. "Why... why do you suddenly ask this?" Andre’s voice was slightly hoarse, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice, clearly frightened by this sudden question: "Ron, this kind of joke isn’t funny." Ron shrugged, his gaze subtly sweeping over Andre’s slightly flustered expression; Andre’s reaction had already told him everything. But he still decided to give it another push: "You still haven’t answered my question; do you want it or not?" Unknowingly, the two had arrived at the workshop’s entrance. Pushing the door open, they found Ailan waiting in the foyer. Seeing the host and guest entering, her "dress" woven from vines swayed gently, silently guiding them into the parlor. "Welcome back, Master, Lord Andre." Ailan conveyed her greetings with a board of leaves, her movements graceful and appropriate. "Thank you, Ailan." Ron nodded slightly: "Please prepare some hot tea for us." Ailan nodded in acknowledgment and turned to go to the tea room. Her movements were now quite smooth, almost devoid of the initial stiffness, only the occasional slight trembling of the vines still revealed her plant nature. Ailan soon brought the tea set, offered two cups of steaming herbal tea, and then quietly withdrew, standing silently in the sunlight of the courtyard. Although her consciousness and behavior were increasingly human-like, her craving for sunlight remained an innate, indelible trait. Andre sat in the chair, holding the teacup but hesitating to sip, merely staring at the rippling water in the cup, as if it concealed some unfathomable secret. "If... if you have to ask." He finally raised his head, his eyes unsettled, speaking hesitantly: "Honestly, I never dared to dream about this before. Thirteenth in line, with dozens of siblings, even my father can’t remember my birthday... Even in my dreams, I wouldn’t dare to dream of becoming the King." Ron silently watched him, saying nothing, his gaze sharp, as if piercing through his soul. "But now..." Andre’s expression suddenly changed, a light illuminated his golden vertical pupils, as if a prairie fire was igniting deep within his eyes: "Now I’ve awakened my bloodline, become an Official Knight, felt this power; if you ask whether I want it..." He took a deep breath, fingers clenching into a fist: "Then yes, I do want it." Ron knowingly nodded, just as he suspected, ambition always grows with power. Like someone who, at first, never thought that becoming an Officer in Luoyang’s north would lead to unifying the north, wielding command over vassals through the Emperor. Power changes hearts, an eternal truth. Since Andre harbored such ambitions, things would be much easier. If he had truly been a content and idle prince, Ron would indeed need to find another way. "Good! That’s more like it." Ron lightly patted the table, eyes gleaming with a sharp light: "By the time I become an Advanced Apprentice, you should have fully adapted to your bloodline power, reaching the pinnacle of your strength." "Once fully stimulated, the Red Blood Flying Dragon Bloodline is enough to contend with an average Advanced Apprentice. Among your generation of princes and princesses, how many can truly threaten you in strength?" Ron’s piercing gaze locked onto Andre, as if foreseeing an impending bloody storm within the royal family. If that day indeed came, the Xuanwu Gate... why not! Andre’s Adam’s apple moved, he nodded, his gaze gradually firming: "Truly none, since my eldest and second brothers inherited the Two-legged Flying Dragon Bloodline, most of the other siblings have only awakened the Fire Lizard or even lesser bloodlines. But..." He hesitated, a trace of doubt flickering in his eyes, clearly harboring concerns he had yet to express fully. "Are you worried about your power base?" Ron pointed it out first, as if he had already seen through the other party’s thoughts: "Indeed, your foundation in the Royal Capital is too shallow, lacking enough nobles and troops to support you. But by then, with me assisting you from the periphery with my identity as a Professional Alchemist, you need not worry." Andre’s pupils contracted slightly. Clearly, he hadn’t expected Ron to so bluntly reveal his concerns. For a moment, his expression was unfathomable, alternating between surprise, suspicion, vigilance, and hope. "Ron, are you serious? Are you really willing to support me?" He fixed his eyes on Ron, seemingly trying to discern any hint of jest or deceit. "Of course." Ron smiled faintly, his gaze calm like water yet unfathomably deep. In truth, his plan to place Andre on the throne was by no means a spur-of-the-moment idea but a strategy carefully thought out and meticulously calculated. There were at least two important considerations: First, if Andre could ascend to the throne, he could provide the Ralph Clan with protection. Ron, sooner or later, would have to head to the Central Rich Lands to pursue higher realms of power, and he couldn’t remain long at the clan’s side. With a king as a backing, the future of the clan could remain unshaken amidst turmoil. Second, more crucially, the royal family held the complete legacy of the Crown Breathing Technique, including the secret passage to the legendary [Crown Knight]. Apart from this, the Royal Treasury undoubtedly contained many rare treasures and ancient knowledge long lost. Forcefully seizing these things was unrealistic. The Farouk Royal Family, as an ancient clan standing for hundreds of years, conservatively estimated to have at least a dozen Official Knights-level combat forces, with an Advanced Apprentice holding the fort, and many Intermediate Apprentices. Not to mention the various trump cards left by the two Crown Knights, even an ordinary Official Wizard would get a headache. And Andre’s path was precisely his perfect solution in the plan, internal strife is like meat rotting in one’s own pot, the struggle would always be kept within a certain intensity. "But before that, I need you to help me with one small task." Ron took an exquisitely shiny silver Blood Collection Device from the workbench, a special device for preserving the vitality of extraordinary creature blood: "I need a sample of your essence blood, to study the bloodline traits of the Red Blood Flying Dragon." Andre was taken aback for a moment, then relaxed his brow and cheerfully took the Blood Collection Device: "Is that all? No problem." He rolled up his sleeve, skillfully inserted the Silver Needle into his arm vein, and dark red blood with a golden sheen immediately flowed down the pipeline into the blood collection bottle. The mere sight of that blood gave a rush of heat, as if it was not blood but flowing lava. For a Bloodline Knight that has already awakened, such a loss of blood was merely an insignificant consumption, recoverable in a few days, and not worth mentioning at all. Ron carefully accepted the blood sample, solemnly storing it: "This bloodline sample is crucial to my research, thank you." Andre waved it off with indifference: "A small matter, you helped me complete my bloodline activation before and saved my life. This little consumption is nothing to me now." After Andre left, Ron immediately got into status, wholeheartedly diving into the research of Chimera Bloodline talent. Chimera’s four core conciousness correspond to three heads and one tail, with each core able to independently replicate one bloodline trait. Theoretically, this granted him the possibility of possessing four different bloodline powers simultaneously. And Andre’s Red Blood Flying Dragon bloodline, of high level, suitable purity, reliable source, and potential for further advancement, was undoubtedly an extremely ideal first experiment material. Ron took out the bottle with the essence blood, gazing at the liquid emitting strange light, excitement and anticipation surging in his heart. If he could successfully replicate this bloodline, his combat power would undoubtedly usher in another improvement. He first attempted the simplest and most direct method—placing his palm on the blood bottle, trying to use Spiritual Perception to sense and replicate the bloodline information within. However, there was no response, as if it was just ordinary liquid, without any special attributes. "It’s not that simple..." Ron frowned, a hint of contemplation appearing in his eyes. He carefully poured out a drop of essence blood into his palm, closed his eyes, and tried to resonate it with the Chimera bloodline energy in his body. Still, there was no effect, the blood lay there motionless, emitting a faint warmth. "Perhaps it requires a deeper level of contact, or even a certain ritualistic method?" Ron murmured to himself, falling into deep thought. He put down the blood bottle, closed his eyes, and began trying to feel those instincts hidden deep within the bloodline. After awakening the Chimera bloodline, he vaguely felt ancient memories flowing through his blood. They were not clear images or sounds, but a vague feeling, like being covered by thick gauze, faintly visible yet difficult to distinguish. Ron attempted to immerse his mind in that blurry sea of memory, searching for fragments related to "replication." Amidst a myriad of chaotic, broken memory fragments, he finally caught a clue: An ancient self-initiated ritual, used for extracting and assimilating the bloodline power of other creatures. "So that’s it..." Ron opened his eyes, a glint of understanding and excitement flashing through them. The Chimera’s ability to replicate other bloodlines was not through simple contact or devour, but through a special ritual, extracting and restructuring foreign bloodline information, then integrating it into their own consciousness core. He took out a small knife and gently made a cut on his left index finger, letting his own blood drip into Andre’s essence blood.