Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 303: Beneath the Inverted Sea

Ethan stood still at the edge of a broken chain path, high above the central mesa of the region.

The cold wind tugged at his crimson sweater, the fabric fluttering gently like a flame held in check. His black baggy trousers swayed with the breeze, and his sneakers remained rooted to the cracked stone beneath him. His hands remained tucked calmly in his pockets, golden eyes narrowed as he scanned the world around him.

He said nothing.

But his senses spread.

Not in a wave — not like some brute force projection — but like a veil of silk unraveling across the region. Layer upon layer, breath after breath, every ripple of life was recorded and studied.

He sensed the children first — playful and unaware — the tempo of their hearts like dancing feathers.

Then the warriors — disciplined, sharp-edged in spirit, their auras like carved blades of heat and stone.

Then the elders — slow-burning flames of ancient strength wrapped in stillness.

And behind them, far beneath the roots of the mountain and tucked within crystal growths buried under shadowed ravines — the slumbering titans. Creatures so vast they blurred the edges of reality.

Ethan took it all in.

The colors of emotion. The pulses of intent. The way life hummed with hidden purpose.

This tribe… they were organized. Not just strong, but old — ritualistic and bound by oaths. He'd never encountered them in previous visits to the Beast Plane, and this region… it was unlike the others. The sea above, the hanging chains, the pulse of ambient primal energy — it was more ancient, more raw.

But then… he felt it.

Faint. Subtle. Like the glint of a blade tip in a room of darkness.

A resonance.

Psychic.

And the only one in the entire region.

Not deep and oppressive like some ancient god-mind, no, this was gentle. Dormant. Latent, even. But natural. Innate.

It did not come from the elders. Nor the hunters. Nor the beast-flesh encased beneath the land.

It came from the outskirts.

A single presence — young, perhaps… or cloaked.

Radiating the telltale shimmer of Psychic affinity. Not trained. Not weaponized. But undeniably real.

Ethan tilted his head slightly, golden eyes now glowing faintly in the gloom.

"…Found you," he whispered. freēnovelkiss.com

And in silence, the Saint of Anbord turned his gaze toward the far reaches of the mountain tribe — the place where something, or someone, carried the seed of the one affinity he lacked.

He would not approach yet.

Observation came first.

Patience before power.

And in the stillness of his breath, the chains of fate began to shift.

...

Ethan moved with quiet purpose, his steps light across the ancient stone bridges strung between mountainous crags. The wind whispered around him, cold but oddly charged — as if carrying messages too old for language.

Above him, the sea churned.

Not sky. Sea.

A vast, inverted ocean suspended impossibly in the heavens — its dark blue waters swirling with streaks of violet bioluminescence. Strange silhouettes swam within it: titanic serpents, manta-like beasts, and translucent leviathans that shimmered with starlight beneath their scaled hides.

He paused at the edge of a cliff where one of the great chains arched upward, connecting the floating highlands to a plateau closer to the ceiling-sea.

With a subtle flex of intent, Ethan ascended the chain, his figure becoming a blur as gravity bowed to his will. The sound of vibrating metal beneath his feet echoed faintly — a hymn from a world that defied natural law.

As he crested the plateau, he found fields of crystalline grass — tall stalks that shimmered like glass in the moonless light. He crouched and ran his fingers across one. It chimed faintly. Harmonically.

This place was alive in ways that defied classification.

Every rock hummed. Every gust of wind carried memory.

And always — that presence remained in the distance.

Faint, but constant.

He could feel it more clearly now. It wasn't moving. It wasn't hiding either. It was simply… there. As if part of the land. Or perhaps unaware of its own signature. The Psychic resonance was delicate, woven into the spiritual flow of the area rather than pulsing outwards like a beacon.

Ethan's golden gaze lifted again toward the sea.

And then — he leapt.

Upward.

A single bound carried him into the air, where the pull of the sea above began to assert its gravity. Mid-flight, he twisted, allowing himself to be caught by the shifting current between realms — the space between stone and suspended tide.

He entered the sea.

Not with a splash, but like a thought slipping into a dream.

Inside, the waters were heavy with silence. Light bent at strange angles, and sound came in pulses.

Here, he could see further — sense deeper.

The region stretched far beyond what the mountain tribes occupied. There were ruins buried beneath the ocean, glowing spires rising from submerged canyons. In some of those ruins… there were other things. Sleeping. Watching. But none of them held the resonance he sought.

The presence… it remained on land. Nestled near the edge of the tribe's domain — close, but not within.

Ethan swam through the water as effortlessly as he walked on land, cloak and sweater flowing like seaweed behind him. A school of glimmering thoughtfish spiraled past him — creatures made of pure emotion, feeding on stray dreams. One of them brushed his aura and instantly darted away, overwhelmed.

He emerged near a jagged cliffside where waterfalls poured upward into the sea above — a strange inversion of natural order. He stood at the edge, dripping faintly with glowing mist, eyes focused once more in the direction of the Psychic source.

He could now identify more details.

The resonance belonged to a child.

Young. Pure. Untamed. But with an instinctual connection to the mental stream — perhaps even deeper than most awakened psychics. It was cradled inside a small cave-like formation in the outskirts of the T'shalari's outer territory, surrounded by lesser beasts that gave it wide berth.

"A born conduit," Ethan muttered. "But unaware of what they are…"

He exhaled softly, breath fogging in the cool air.

Still no approach.

Not yet.

There was more to see.

The Beast Plane was vast — and every corner could reveal old secrets, or new dangers.

Ethan stepped forward once more, vanishing into a shimmer of wind and gold.

The hunt for understanding had begun.