Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 575 - 345: Weir’s Bloodline Talent

Chapter 575: Chapter 345: Weir’s Bloodline Talent

The preparations for the trial room are underway.

In the core area of the Shadow Trial Arena, the stone hall known as the “Willpower Altar” is now completely sealed.

Several technicians in alchemical white robes are busily adjusting the concentration of the potions and the temperature control devices around the central stone platform.

A faint white mist begins to drift in the air of the altar, the vaporized spores of the Shadow Lichen, gently drawn into various air circulation ducts as the indoor temperature gradually decreases.

This space was originally the main ritual hall of the ancient Snow Swearers, with crumbling ritual engravings covering the walls.

The circles of blue phosphorescence flicker slightly in the dense fog, creating a kind of almost tangible mental pressure.

Amidst this nerve-wracking atmosphere, the knights undergoing breakthroughs sit cross-legged, immersed in painful struggle, completely unaware of what is happening outside.

Their fighting energy flickers indistinctly around them; some tremble uncontrollably, while others murmur softly under the influence of hallucinations, cold sweat covering their foreheads.

This state is precisely where mental disruption exerts its effect, forcing them to break through.

In principle, the breakthrough process is divided into three stages.

The first is fumigation stimulation.

The vaporized spores will enter the body directly through breathing, tingling the nerves, amplifying mental perception, and forcing the subject’s willpower core to be exposed in a boundary state of extremity.

The second stage is the catalyst injection.

The knights will be injected with a catalyst formulated from Azure Patterned Honey and Frost Blood Redberry, to stabilize the fighting energy circuits within the body, alleviate the side effects brought by the spores, and activate latent bloodline factors.

The final stage is the Tidal Breathing Technique guidance.

This is a technique that requires intense concentration, used to guide the circulation of fighting energy throughout the body and complete the final breakthrough under the triple states of “extreme cold + high pressure + hallucination”.

However, in practice, none of this is as beautiful as the theory.

When the fighting energy core is stimulated, it brings about strong hallucinations and a sense of mental disorder, often causing fragments of fear memories to emerge, testing the knight’s steadiness in maintaining the flow of fighting energy at the brink of death.

Even with the antidote, the knights themselves will repeatedly collapse during this process, some even failing completely and having the trial forcibly terminated.

Standing in the observation room, Louis looked at the knight who had just fainted and was being carried away by the technicians, frowning slightly.

“Is the intensity still too high?” he murmured to himself.

“For ordinary knights, it is indeed too harsh,” Alian responded gravely, “but this is already the best breakthrough method I have heard of.”

The atmosphere fell silent for a moment.

At this moment, a technician nodded to them: “Sir, we are ready.”

Louis turned to Weir and smiled, “Don’t take too long. If you don’t break through in five hours, I’ll leave first.”

“Huh?” Weir was taken aback.

“Just joking.” Louis patted his shoulder lightly, “Relax a bit.”

Alian, however, was slightly surprised: “Five hours? It usually takes two or three days on average for an elite knight to break through to transcendence. If it’s not completed after the fourth day, it’s considered a failure.”

He paused and added, “The shortest recorded time on our side is twenty-eight hours exactly.”

Louis just smiled without further explanation.

Of course, he knew these common facts, but he also knew that Weir was different.

The young man who had grown up by his side since childhood was recognized as a prodigy by the Daily Intelligence System, and he had already shown flashes of talent.

Moreover, according to Weir himself, he was already at the doorstep, just a final step away.

Although his previous remark about “waiting for five hours” was intended to ease the atmosphere for the other party,

secretly, a subtle sense of anticipation rose in Louis’s heart.

But instead, it made the young man’s face tense for a moment, clearly making him more nervous.

Noticing this, Alian gently advised, “Relaxing a bit will make it easier to pass.”

Weir nodded nervously, took a deep breath, and stepped into the stone gate.

The moment Weir stepped into the stone hall, he sensed something was off with the air.

The instant he entered, a faint white fog filled the air, cold slowly creeping up his nasal passages into his mind, like fine needles gently probing at the depths of his consciousness.

Although the breathing technique had not officially begun, he could already sense a sign of mental tension.

Several alchemists were adjusting the final temperature controls and potion nozzles on the outskirts, and the vaporization devices operated smoothly as the scent of Shadow Lichen dispersed.

Weir steadily walked in and stood firm before the stone platform marked with a sensory circuit.

He instinctively glanced towards the observation room; sure enough, Louis was still standing there, nodding gently at him.

Gaining a sense of assurance, Weir took a deep breath, sat down slowly in the cold fog, and adjusted his posture.

The meditative breathing method naturally emerged in his mind, and he smoothly guided the fighting energy within his body to flow in sync with the cooling tempo of the trial room, readying himself for the next phase.

But in the next moment, a sudden mental pressure hit him like a tidal wave, and flames exploded in the depths of his memory.

It was the night the village was raided, with Snow Swearers riding into the street, torches sweeping across rooftops.

Weir was still young, and his mother desperately dragged him out of the burning house and they fled.

His later memories grew increasingly hazy, only recalling iron chains, whips, and the bloody wooden cage.

The guests who came to select slaves surveyed him with eyes akin to choosing livestock.