Wizard: My skills can be upgraded indefinitely.

Latour stopped and looked at his palm again.

This time, his focus was even stronger.

He could clearly "feel" the flowing, slightly languid, dark golden power beneath his skin.

He tried to "push" them towards the surface of his palm skin.

At first, it was very awkward, and the power was like heavy lead and mercury, flowing slowly.

But with his unparalleled control over his body and the intuitive "sensory ability" bestowed upon him by his bloodline, he gritted his teeth and persevered, guiding his way forward.

His entire palm, including the tips of his five fingers, was covered with a layer of dark gold stone.

Although it is only a thin layer, it gives people a feeling of being indestructible!

"Petrified skin! Localized intensive treatment!"

Latour let out a low growl, his voice filled with barely suppressed ecstasy and trembling.

This is not a wizard's shield, but an extraordinary power born from one's own flesh and blood after the essence of life has changed.

Hardened skin did not cause him to lose his sense of touch; on the contrary, it gave him a more acute sense of the "hardness" of the things he touched.

"And...this too!"

Suddenly, he had a change of heart and focused a small portion of the power concentrated at his fingertips, transforming it.

The thin layer of stone at the tip of his fingertip suddenly became sharper and harder than a needle, gleaming with a dangerous, cold light!

[Penetrating spikes].

This is a preliminary application of "rock deformation," concentrating power at a single point to break through the surface!

His gaze swept over a protruding stone edge next to the fist mark from earlier.

He flicked his finger lightly.

"laugh!"

With a soft sound, the protruding, hard stone edge, as if sliced ​​by the sharpest chisel, snapped in two, leaving a smooth, mirror-like cut.

"Did you see that, Ian!"

Latour suddenly turned around and looked at his son, who had been silently observing from outside the magic circle.

His breathing was heavy, his chest heaved violently, and his eyes burned with fierce fire.

It was the ecstatic joy of being relieved after more than fifty years of repression.

It is not only the absolute confidence of having power in hand, but also the ambition to see an unlimited future!

"This is true power! It flows in your veins, it's etched into your bones!"

This is definitely not the kind of physical strength and bizarre abilities that a high-level apprentice could achieve through witchcraft.

This is a unique talent brought about by the leap in the essence of life, belonging exclusively to bloodline sorcerers!

Right now, I can blast someone like Holden, armor and all, into dust with a single punch!

Now, my lifespan has greatly increased, and I have plenty of time to watch my family grow stronger!

I am now... a superhuman!

Ambition, like weeds, grows wildly when nurtured by strength.

A minor count? A tiny magic stone mine?

No, that's not enough, far from enough!

What is a mortal kingdom compared to a first-level wizard?

Although his son says he is now only a "weakened version", it is still a step into the threshold of the extraordinary.

Why shouldn't the Marcus family have a wider territory? Why shouldn't they have more resources?

Why can't we...become those high and mighty wizard families that transcend the mortal realm?

Latour's eyes changed, becoming intense and aggressive.

The family crisis was resolved after their son returned.

But now, the ambitions of the old aristocracy have been completely ignited by extraordinary power.

Ian walked over and used his mental energy to carefully scan his father's body again, confirming that the bloodline transformation was a complete success and the foundation was exceptionally solid.

"Very good, Father." Ian smiled sincerely.

"You are now a true bloodline sorcerer. This is just the beginning. You need time to familiarize yourself with and explore this power."

Over the next few days, avoid pushing your limits; focus on stability and getting used to the flow.

"I understand," Latour nodded emphatically.

three days later.

The transformations of the mother, Enoya, and the brother, Vincent, were also completed peacefully.

They only took the controlled version of the [Rockbear Potion] and the accompanying [Quiet Water].

Under Ian's care, the process, though painful, was far less dangerous than Latour's.

Ainoa's complexion was rosy, and the wrinkles caused by worry had smoothed out considerably. The author, Seven Degrees of Sunset Red, personally recommends: "I hope you enjoy the story of 'Wizard: My Skills Can Break Through Infinitely' on Cola Novels." It felt like she had returned to her twenties.

Vincent clearly felt a leap in his physical strength. He tried to throw a punch, and the force of the punch left a shallow mark on the stone wall.

This power far surpasses any great knight he knows.

The core members of the family have now all entered the realm of extraordinary physiques.

On that very day, the royal envoy finally arrived, trembling with fear.

The one who arrived was an elderly master of ceremonies with gray hair, accompanied by a group of guards, carrying the king's "condolences" and "awards" decrees, and he adopted an extremely humble posture.

The castle gates were wide open, but the old master of ceremonies walked with extreme caution, sweat beading on his forehead.

Lord Holden and the treasurer, along with their confidants, vanished overnight.

Not even a speck of ash was left behind; the entire capital was terrified.

Latour met them in the drawing room.

He wasn't wearing a count's formal attire, but rather a practical outfit that allowed him to move around easily, and he sat in the main seat.

Without deliberately exuding an aura, the invisible pressure from the difference in their life levels still made the old master of rites' legs go weak, and his voice tremble.

The old official in charge of rites held the imperial edict, almost as if he were reading a pardon aloud.

Latour listened without much expression on his face, simply nodding.

"Understood, Your Majesty's kindness is appreciated by the Marcus family. You may return now that you have put your things down."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable authority.

The old master of ceremonies, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, hurriedly put down the king's gifts and the symbolic documents, and practically fled the castle.

Watching the messenger's hasty departure, Vincent, sitting to the side, felt a mix of emotions.

Just a few months ago, these people were high and mighty, able to decide the life and death of their families; now, however…

Latour leaned on the armrest of his chair, his gaze fixed on the vast territory outside the window, but his thoughts were on places even further away.

The kingdom's investiture and rewards? He no longer cared about them.

This newfound power and lifespan, along with the legacy left by his son, allowed him to see a higher perspective.

The small earldom could no longer contain his rekindled ambitions.

Two days later, everything was arranged.

Ian left behind a specially made communication talisman and some emergency healing potions as keepsakes.

Early morning, in the open space in front of the main castle building.

Ian stood there, and Gaga shrank back and perched on his shoulder.

Latour, Enoya, Vincent, Lillian, Andrei and Sophia, along with several trusted stewards and knights, all came out to see them off.

Ainoa's eyes reddened again. She held Ian's hand tightly, repeatedly telling him to take care of himself and come back to visit whenever he had time.

Latour gently patted his son's shoulder, everything understood without words.

Ian could clearly see the fervent ambition in his eyes.

Vincent looked at his younger brother, his lips moved, but he only managed to utter one sentence: "Take care."

Lillian clutched a beautiful feather, a gift from Gaga a few days ago. She whispered:

"Brother, can Gaga take me flying next time?"

It let out a smug "caw caw".

Ian nodded to his family, then left without lingering.

He turned around and took a step, his figure already dozens of meters away; another step, and he was already in mid-air.

With a clear, cawing sound, it leaped off my shoulder.

Its body swelled in the wind, transforming into a massive black bird with a wingspan of over fifteen meters.

"I'm leaving." He waved to the people below.

With a flap of its wings, a sudden gust of wind arose, stirring up dust.

Its enormous body soared into the sky at incredible speed, becoming a tiny black dot on the horizon in the blink of an eye.

On the ground, Enoya's tears finally fell as she leaned on Latour's shoulder.

Latour held his wife, gazing intently in the direction where his son had disappeared, his eyes deep in thought.

Vincent straightened his back, feeling more confident.

Lillian tiptoed until she could no longer see her brother and Gaga.