He had not confirmed how much of his Attributes had been freed up, but his body felt good, as if a massive tension on his Constitution had been substantially reduced, and he felt like using his muscles.

The Ouroboros Serpents inside the void in his heart were becoming increasingly agitated, they gave out soundless roars, especially the fifth serpent who was the most restless of the bunch.

Rowan also noticed that his sixth heart was growing larger with the fresh injection of Soul points into his bloodline, and Rowan speculated that at the moment he freed himself from this curse, that he would have six Ouroboros Serpent roaring at the skies.

What a sight that would be.

He cracked his neck and began swinging the chains, each movement made a loud metallic crack that seemed to stun hundreds of Rodents at a time, making them sluggish and disoriented, some of them were even attacking their neighbors, for Rowan, he considered them all ripe for the slaughter.

Rowan did not even think these chains he now held were meant as weapons in the first place, as he noticed faint abrasions on it that would be consistent with the chains being used as a tool and not a weapon.

Yet, Rowan did not care, they were crafted from an especially tough metallic alloy that felt heavy. In his hands, this was a formidable weapon for slaughter, and he was thoroughly enjoying every experience he had with swinging it.

With his strength, it was necessary for the weapons he used to be heavy because he would be operating them with most of his strength, and anything not tough or heavy enough would crumble to nothingness in no time.

He missed Envy.

Rowan began running deeper into the horde, increasing the number of Rodents he could kill with each swing, in a short while, he became so adept at using the chain it seemed to transform into a whip made of blood.

He could feel minor obstructions each time he swung the chain, but it felt like popping multiple balloons, it hardly slowed his movements.

He was moving at a light jog, but it was as fast as a full sprint from a horse, just so that he could kill the maximum number of beasts with each hit. For Rowan had always had a cold and calculating side to every of his actions that he himself could not even detect because it came from deep within his Empyrean bloodline, and with each new hearts that he grew and subsequently turned into a void, that coldness inside of him increased.

Perhaps there was a reason Rowan disliked using his Energy Vision and instead relied on his Spatial Sight to view the world. It was because with his Energy Vision, everything transformed into two categories, useful or useless.

It was only useful if the item or individual had enough energy, else it was useless. Furthermore, it was the reason the world became drab and colorless when he used the Energy vision.

Because with this vision, he would pay attention to only a single thing. Power!

His bloodline craved such energies, such power, and his Ouroboros Serpents were representative of those cravings. They would take away every shred of power for themselves.

He was in the Legendary State and the Ouroboros Serpents were already so powerful, in a short amount of time, who would be able to challenge him anymore?

He began to feel a slight ache in his muscle, for what the curse really affected was his recovery capability, but it was okay. Rowan did not particularly dislike this minor inconvenience.

It reminded him of his previous life where he had to work long hours, but with continuous hard work and a great body condition, which made hard work pleasant for him because instead of feeling crippling pain and muscle strain, he would feel a dull ache in his muscle similar to the experience after a long workout.

Rowan had always had a masochistic craving for that ache, it felt to him as a reaffirmation of his hard work and persistence.

Experiencing this ache once more even in his Empyrean body made him want to laugh out loud, but the air was filled with blood and torn flesh, and it would be silly to swallow an eyeball during a battle like this.

Would he end up missing this curse a little? After all, it made him experience a little bit of his humanity once more, a little bit of that fairness, that struggle, that pain…

No! He did not miss it! He missed a part of humanity, but never the weakness, never that. Weakness only brought pain, and loss.

Weakness was for the defeated! His bloodline seemed to roar in annoyance.

Rowan began to feel a shift inside his blood, as instead of holding back the curse, his blood began to fight back, and more of his Strength was being released to him.

Was he limiting himself? Has he always been doing that?

Rowan’s movement had torn its way through the entire horde, creating a pathway of carnage and pools of blood behind him. He could have used his flames for a more efficient way of killing, but he liked using his body more.

But every party had to end, as his senses showed he had been subtly surrounded by four Incarnation State Rodents, yet that was not his main concern, as he was busy looking for the spawn of his flesh, but he could not find it.

Rowan had not just been fighting but refining his knowledge with the chains, he had been pondering on how to use his Berserker and flame Skills with the chains, and he finally had made a solid working concept.

He shifted the chains and held it by the middle, holding it with both hands. Inside his mental space, there were subtle changes in his Ability Rune, especially the Berserker Ability Runes. This Ability Rune was special, for it had offshoots that represented the various techniques under the Berserker Aspect.

The Berserker Aspect could be likened to a Skill Tree, and the various techniques inside it were the branches. For the skills in this Aspect that were now at the Refined level, they appeared more defined in his Mental Space.

The Flesh Light Ability Rune also appeared more defined and Rowan could swear the appearance of the Rune, which resembled a heart cut in half, had more veins. It almost seemed more real.

Rowan closed his eyes and timed his breath, gathering everything he had learned from his previous battle with the wolf and every battle leading up to now. At his present level, he could hold his breathing for more than ten hours without any debilitating effect.

For him, it served as a tool of focus and control, with his increased Spirit it could almost serve as meditation.

Breathe in…

He used his Spirit to form a hand which he used to gather his Snow-White grains of Aether; he could now collect thirty-five grains at a time, a far cry from when he could collect hundreds of grains at a time.

His control proficiency had increased by multiple folds, which proves that his conjecture was correct about the proper manner he could use to control Aether.

Breathe out…

Normally, if he activated more than one Ability Runes at once, his Aether would just flood to all the Runes, but since he discovered the trick of collecting only the specific amount of Aether he needed, in this case thirty-five silver white grains, he could activate multiple abilities and the gathered Aether would be split among them.

This created a situation of his Aether passing through the hand he created, thereby limiting the Amount of Aether he used. He had effectively created a dam over his raging ocean of Aether.

The only drawback was that he had to split his Spirit nearly in half in order for him to maintain this bridge, but for all its drawbacks it was simply the best method he is currently having.

It created a situation where he could easily manage his Abilities, enhancing his controls to a higher degree, and this new advancement was plainly visible.

Breathe in…