The milky-white Spirit Marrows were essentially "Spirit" in solid form—the fuel required to ignite the ritual’s array. The more energy consumed, the further the individual traveled along the path of bloodline retracing. And the further they went, the closer they drew to the very source of their power.

  Outside the vision, another grey-haired elder was moved to tears, his lips trembling.

  "The Spirit consumed... it’s already over a hundred times what I used in my day! It truly is a Mythic Lineage! Wonderful! Simply wonderful!"

  Meanwhile, Eros was standing in the grey-grey world, looking utterly bewildered. He had been running for what felt like an eternity, yet he hadn't seen the "path" his father had promised.

  Where is it? Was there a bug in the ritual? What am I supposed to do—just keep running?

  Whatever, he thought. The old man said to go as far as possible. If there’s no road, I’ll just make one.

  He picked a direction and sprinted through the fog. When he got tired, he rested; when he caught his breath, he ran again. Time lost all meaning in this void. There were no landmarks, no horizon—just the same suffocating grey in every direction. He couldn't even be sure if he was running in a straight line.

  Then, a tiny speck of light appeared ahead. His spirit soared. Finally, something other than fog! He pushed his legs harder, racing toward the glow.

  As he drew closer, he saw a palm-sized orb of pale green light floating in mid-air. The moment its soft radiance touched him, his exhaustion evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure comfort.

  "Is this a bloodline imprint?" Eros reached out a finger to poke the orb.

  The moment he touched it, the world blurred. When his vision cleared, he found himself plummeting through the sky toward a vast ocean. He opened his mouth to scream, but a vine whipped out of thin air, coiling around his waist and pulling him back.

  When he stabilized, he found himself standing before a woman wearing a crown of flowers and a simple, elegant gown of pale green.

  Eros stared, his heart hammering against his ribs. Gods above, this woman hits every single one of my aesthetic preferences. A line from his past life flashed through his mind: "As lovely as peach blossoms in spring, as elegant as chrysanthemums in autumn." It described her perfectly. And the hair—silky, snow-white hair. A "White-Haired Waifu"? He was sold.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The beautiful Goddess looked at the child, her expression one of mild surprise. She didn't understand how he had appeared so suddenly. More importantly, she didn't understand how a mere mortal could look directly at her without being blinded or driven mad. She peered into his soul for a moment, and a flicker of realization crossed her face. Ah, so that’s it.

  Eros was still lost in her beauty when a series of grotesque, high-pitched giggles snapped him out of it. He turned toward the sound and recoiled instinctively.

  "What the—!"

  The thing before him was the definition of a nightmare. A massive, indescribable mound of flesh floated over the sea, dominated by a single, colossal eye. Surrounding the eye were hundreds of densely packed, writhing tentacles.

  Sensing his gaze, the creature’s giant pupil locked onto him. Then, as if finding a new toy, eyes began to pop open all over its skin and tentacles. Within seconds, the creature was covered in thousands of unblinking stares, all focused on Eros.

  "Hehe... hehehe... hehehe..." It emitted a wet, distorted cackle.

  Eros’s skin crawled. It was a sensory assault. If anyone with trypophobia saw this, they’d probably drop dead on the spot. He quickly averted his eyes, unable to stomach the sight. He didn't know how he’d ended up here, but it looked like a standoff between the Elf and the Eye-Thing.

  Thank the gods I landed closer to the pretty sister, he thought. Otherwise, I’d be a snack by now.

  Cecilia, having realized the boy’s origin and intent, lost interest in the twisted entity. With a brief glance, she vanished from the sea, taking Eros—still held by the vines—with her.

  The ocean fell silent, leaving only the flesh-mound behind. The creature turned its gaze to the spot where Eros had appeared. Without moving a muscle, thousands of tentacles sprouted from the void at that location. Eyeballs squeezed out of the fleshy slits on the tentacles, filling the space before abruptly vanishing.

  With a final, low chuckle, the entity sank slowly beneath the waves.

  The world blurred again, and Eros found himself in a new location. Another abrupt transition, he thought. I’m almost getting used to this.

  "To think you would choose to awaken the bloodline of my Elven kin," a melodious laugh interrupted his thoughts. "Since fate has brought you here, I shall personally perform your baptism. Prepare yourself... little Alicia."

  Eros froze. He finally noticed the woman’s ears—pointed and slender, peeking out from beneath her flower crown.

  She really is an Elf? He remembered his father saying their ancestors intermarried with Elves. So, this woman was indeed a bloodline imprint? But what about that tentacle monster? Was that an ancestor too?

  And more importantly... Who the hell is Alicia? Why did she call me Alicia? He knew he was a pretty kid in this life, but surely not "change-your-gender" pretty?