The Sacred Treasure

With the battle of Cliff Castle finally over, the entire fortress erupted into a grand celebration. After enduring so much hardship, the Felchiersi clan members could finally smile freely, their long-suppressed joy spilling onto their faces. Magical fireworks shot into the night sky in endless bursts, illuminating the castle in breathtaking colors. Within the warm and relaxed atmosphere, the castle staff and servants moved swiftly, ensuring that the festivities went on without a hitch. This was not just any victory—it was a miracle, a final triumph worth celebrating with everything they had.

Unsurprisingly, Fanmuir was the center of attention. People crowded around him endlessly, and he had long since lost track of how many toasts he had exchanged with his ever-refilled glass of champagne.

His divine physique ensured he wouldn't be affected by the sheer volume of drinks or the constant socializing, but after the umpteenth time repeating the same polite conversations and gestures, even he was beginning to grow a little weary.

"Where's André? Where did he slip off to?" Fanmuir glanced around, scanning the crowd for any sign of André Alexandrov.

For André, this was likely the most triumphant, joyous day of his life. To ensure he wasn't needlessly disturbed, Fanmuir had given him a task before the banquet even began—acting as his personal bodyguard.

Being granted such an honor, André Alexandrov wouldn't dare let his guard down for even a second.

With Fanmuir's presence, Olivia was undoubtedly the star of the evening. Unlike him, who found the excessive attention overwhelming, she fully embraced the moment, her face glowing with pride and happiness. Her parents, too, had gained a newfound prestige, becoming some of the most sought-after guests at the banquet. Overwhelmed with joy, they gazed at Fanmuir with nothing but admiration, wishing they could arrange a wedding for him and Olivia right then and there.

"Clap! Clap!"

A crisp round of applause broke through the chatter. Nathaniel, his face glowing with excitement, raised his crystal goblet high and proclaimed,

"Tonight, I am filled with joy! The Felchiersi family has emerged victorious! Let us all raise our glasses in honor of the great Lord Fanmuir!"

For the first time in history, the Felchiersi clan stood as one, lifting their glasses toward Fanmuir and André Alexandrov in perfect harmony before downing their drinks in unison.

As soon as the last drop was drained, Nathaniel turned and accepted an ancient wooden box from a magician standing nearby. With an air of solemn determination, he walked toward Fanmuir. A hush fell over the crowd, and guests instinctively stepped aside, clearing a path for him.

Stopping before Fanmuir, Nathaniel bowed deeply and presented the wooden box with both hands. His voice was filled with sincerity as he said,

"Honorable Lord Fanmuir, in gratitude for saving the Felchiersi family, we offer you our most sacred treasure."

Fanmuir already knew what lay within that box. It was the very artifact that had led to Antonio Felchiersi's demise and had nearly brought the entire clan to ruin. This offering proved just how deeply the Felchiersi family valued loyalty and repaying kindness.

Despite his overwhelming power, Fanmuir was someone who could still be moved by genuine sincerity. He had always preferred the company of those with integrity.

Fanmuir reached out and took hold of the ancient wooden box. The moment his fingers made contact, an overwhelming surge of energy pulsed from within, catching him off guard. With great care, he lifted the lid, revealing three priceless relics: an ancient record of Bertram's magic, a crystal vial filled with crimson liquid bearing the inscription "Leviathan Sea Dragon Essence," and a small mage's staff—one of the legendary thirteen sacred artifacts of the Blood Clan.

"Leviathan Sea Dragon Essence!" Fanmuir murmured, unable to suppress his astonishment. He never imagined he would come across such an extraordinary treasure in a place like this.

The Leviathan Sea Dragon was a mythical colossus, capable of commanding storms and ruling the vast oceans—one of the most powerful creatures of legend. The essence extracted from its heart was said to contain the chaotic force of the sea itself, making it one of the rarest and most sought-after alchemical substances in existence. Even a single drop of this essence would be enough to incite wars among the world's strongest beings. Only a master alchemist with the finest ingredients could craft supreme-grade elixirs, and this essence was beyond compare.

Yet now, a treasure that had only existed in the pages of ancient texts was right in front of him. Fate worked in mysterious ways.

Just one drop of Leviathan Sea Dragon Essence could be refined into multiple supreme-grade elixirs—each capable of elevating a warrior to the rank of a legendary Martial Lord. But here, in his grasp, was an entire vial of the precious substance. Even though the bottle was small, it contained at least dozens of drops. What did that signify? It meant that an entire army of Martial Lords could be forged.

The Hershville and Alexandros families were already influential in the secular world, but with this, they had the potential to ascend to the highest echelons of power, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Rothschilds, Rockefellers, and Morgans.

The thought of bringing glory to the Hershville name, of fulfilling his family's legacy, and of honoring his parents' last wishes sent waves of excitement through Fanmuir. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the small mage's staff—one of the Blood Clan's sacred artifacts. However, despite careful inspection, its true nature remained elusive.

Keeping his voice steady, Fanmuir addressed Nathaniel, "I deeply appreciate this generous gift. The vial of blood and the mage's staff hold great significance for me, so I will accept them. As for the book, I would like for us to study it together. And as a token of gratitude for your offering, I will do everything in my power to help the Fairchild family rise to the pinnacle of the magical world."

For him, repaying such kindness was simply a matter of principle.

Fanmuir had already saved the Fairchild family from destruction—an act akin to granting them a second life. No one had expected him to ask for so little in return—merely a bottle of blood and a staff—yet he was willing to dedicate himself to elevating their clan to the heights of the magical world. His selflessness and generosity were beyond comprehension.

Could this truly be happening? Could the Fairchild family rise to become the dominant force in the magical world? Would they soon wield absolute power in Britain and, perhaps, beyond?

The banquet erupted in a wave of euphoria! Fanmuir's generosity was beyond anything they had imagined, and the entire Fairchild family—including Nathaniel himself—dropped to their knees in gratitude, their eyes brimming with tears. Seeing this, Fanmuir quickly waved his hand, and a gentle force lifted everyone back to their feet. Moved once more, they could hardly contain their emotions.

The celebration continued with music filling the air, signaling the start of the dance. The guests set aside their drinks and took their partners onto the floor. Naturally, Olivia was Fanmuir's dance partner.

Tonight, Olivia was nothing short of breathtaking. Dressed in a soft pink, low-cut backless gown, she radiated elegance, her fair skin glowing under the lights. The dress perfectly hugged her slender yet curvaceous figure, making her all the more enchanting. As Fanmuir held her delicate hands and rested his arm around her slim waist, he could feel the warmth of her silky skin beneath the sheer fabric. The faint fragrance of her perfume lingered in the air, making him momentarily lose himself in the moment.

Olivia had long since fallen for Fanmuir. Straightforward and unreserved, she had no hesitation in embracing her feelings. However, despite the allure of their intimate dance, Fanmuir's mind was mostly occupied with thoughts of the Leviathan Sea Dragon Essence and the small magician's staff—the Blood Clan's sacred artifact—that he had acquired earlier.

As the night came to a close, the guests slowly departed, and the grand banquet concluded on a perfect note.

After bidding farewell to Nathaniel, Olivia, and the others, Fanmuir wasted no time in returning to his chamber.

He retrieved the Leviathan Sea Dragon Essence and studied the rare treasure meticulously, his mind already planning how he could use it to elevate the Hershville family to unparalleled heights. Realizing he was getting ahead of himself, he took a deep breath and carefully put the vial away.

Next, he pulled out the small magician's staff—the Blood Clan's sacred artifact—and channeled a sliver of his energy into it. Yet, to his surprise, nothing happened.

Strange.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his immense power and poured it into the staff. This time, the staff responded—it absorbed his energy hungrily, but despite this, it remained unchanged in size.

However, a mysterious force suddenly stirred within him, as if something was calling out to him.

Fanmuir ran his fingers across the staff, searching his vast knowledge of ancient lore. Then, a realization struck him. Fixing his gaze on the staff, he clenched his teeth, balled his fist, and struck his chest with immense force. Immediately, a golden drop of his heart's essence blood surged from his mouth and splashed onto the staff.

In an instant, the small magician's staff erupted with blinding light, filling the entire room. Reacting to the divine golden blood, the staff began expanding at a staggering rate. It stretched upward, pressing against the ceiling, and downward, anchoring itself to the floor. A torrent of knowledge surged into Fanmuir's mind.

"The Blood Clan's Spirit Staff—one of the thirteen sacred artifacts of the Blood Clan. This staff possesses unparalleled magical prowess, making it a coveted treasure among the Blood Clan. However, it was originally the Water God's Staff of the Elves, forged from the branches of the mythical Tree of Life. It holds the power to restore vitality and heal wounds."

Not only was the Blood Clan's Spirit Staff once the sacred Water God's Staff of the Elves, but because it was crafted from the legendary Tree of Life, it also served as a spatial artifact.

Countless methods and secrets for wielding the staff flooded into Fanmuir's mind all at once. He couldn't have been more thrilled!

Having familiarized himself with the use of the vampire staff in his heart, he whispered, 'Small, small, smaller...' Mysteriously, the vampire staff transformed into an ink-black ring, fitting perfectly on Fanmuir's left middle finger.

Fanmuir took various items from his chest, putting them into the vampire staff, taking them out, and putting them back in...

The journey to England was successfully completed, yielding many treasures. He should be able to pack up and head home soon. At this thought, Fanmuir felt a wave of relief, and couldn't help but think of Caroline, whom he hadn't seen for days, wondering how she had been doing. In fact, since the day he left, Caroline's graceful figure had been constantly appearing in Fanmuir's mind, though circumstances had forced him to suppress these thoughts of longing. But now things were better - he could finally calm down and think about her properly, while imagining their emotional reunion. How moving would that moment be?