Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 345: Ancestral Ascension (3)

Beneath the shimmering heavens of Anbord, the light of the Ancestral Ascension still lingered in the air like an echo of glory. The sigil above slowly faded, and the blazing pillars of power calmed into gentle, flowing streams that shimmered with every color of magic and divinity.

As the dust settled, the first figure to be seen was Trevor. His white hair had grown longer, braided in blood-colored coils at the tips and down his back. His skin glowed faintly red with sacred sigils of his bloodline etched across his arms and torso. Behind him floated a massive blood-red crown, forged of living essence. His eyes were crimson galaxies, constantly swirling with ancestral blood memories. His aura carried not death, but the legacy of blood—the sacrifice, lineage, and eternal bond. He now embodied the True Ancestor of Blood, a being capable of commanding every drop of blood across worlds. He was just below the god of Blood in authority.

Beside him stood Lamair, his expression calm, his black robes flowing like shadows in daylight. Deathly mists followed him wherever he walked, but it was serene—no longer cold or cruel, but inevitable and gentle. Two black skeletal wings rested folded behind him, pulsing with quiet grace. His right eye glowed pale blue—soulbound—and his left was obsidian, filled with the mysteries of the underworld. The Ancestor of Death no longer invoked fear. He was the keeper of transitions, the gate between realms.

Lisa walked forward next. Her form was radiance incarnate—smooth obsidian skin laced with glowing golden veins as if the origins of creation flowed inside her. Her eyes were liquid gold, and when she raised her hand, the entire field shimmered with the resonance of origin magic. A halo in the shape of a spiraling spiral galaxy floated behind her. As the Ancestor of Origins, she had become the root of all beginning, wielding authority over all races’ foundational essences.

Harley’s laughter echoed as her serpentine hair hissed gently. Her body had become supple stone carved by divine hands—black marble and silver. Her green eyes glowed with life, and her skin radiated fertility, creation, and strength. Her aura was wild and nurturing, like a sacred forest spirit. Her voice brought healing, and her touch sparked growth. As the Gorgon Primogenitor and Ancestor of Life, she had become both sanctuary and weapon.

Clara’s tails floated behind her like ghostly flames. Her fox ears twitched as her skin shimmered with translucent elegance, almost like spirit glass. Her kimono shifted between states of visibility, flickering in spirit light. She now radiated the aura of ancient forests and hidden shrines. Her voice could summon spirit beasts with a single syllable. The Ancestor of Spirits was now fully awake.

Andriel stood with silver moonlight wrapping around her body like a cloak. Her once-purple eyes now resembled twin full moons, radiant and mysterious. Her long hair danced upward, suspended in soft lunar gravity. A silver crescent floated behind her back, and she hovered an inch above the ground with every step she took. The Lunar Empress was now a goddess of night, serenity, and divine clarity.

Emily, her body now covered in runes of leaf and vine, emerged from the roots of a suddenly-grown massive tree. Her eyes were now emeralds brimming with ancient intelligence. Vines coiled gently around her arms and torso, not for defense—but because she was the forest. Her voice made flowers bloom, and her breath could turn wastelands into gardens. The Ancestor of Nature had become the whisper of the wild.

Sixtie demonic aura had crystallized into majestic power. Her pride was no longer haughty but divine. Twin horns of obsidian gold adorned her head, her wings vast and rimmed with ancient fire. Her laughter could silence angels or drive devils to worship. Her form exuded dominance—but never arrogance. She was power, not ego. She was now the Sin of Pride Ascended, her every step a proclamation of her worth.

Lusamine’s presence was like standing in a holy cathedral. Her white robes now shimmered with script written in divine light. Her once-soft presence was now absolute. She bore a crown of stars and moved with gravity that could silence storms. Her voice had become divine decree. Even the elements bent to her tone. As Ancestor of Divinity, she had become a bridge between gods and mortals—holy, yet maternal.

Carmen’s appearance had become dreamlike, her very existence balancing between light and darkness. Her skin was twilight incarnate, not pale or dark, but a perfect harmony of opposites. Floating orbs of harmony swirled around her—some glowing with sun, others humming with void. She smiled and everything calmed. Her presence dissolved conflict and inspired trust. The Ancestor of Balance was now a living fulcrum of existence.

Jerry stood silently, yet the space around him cracked and shimmered. His hair had become a storm of white and black flames, and his eyes had no pupils—just spinning spirals. His steps broke physics, and laughter echoed wherever he walked. Chaos wrapped around him like a lover, yet he moved with purpose. The Ancestor of Chaos had evolved into its truest form: wild, unbound, but not aimless. He was the wild will of change.

Reginald stood like a statue carved from silver and flame. His armor bore ancient seals, and behind him stood a perfect circle with the twelve laws of Order etched upon it. His voice now bent reality to law. His hand could stop gravity, rewrite direction, and cancel sound. As the Ancestor of Order, he was now the keeper of rules, the unbending will behind all structure. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Pisces, cold yet beautiful, stepped forward. Her form was wrapped in robes of living frost, each step freezing the air but never harming life. Her twin braids trailed behind her, covered in frost roses. Her blue eyes glowed like ancient glaciers, but they were filled with wisdom and grace. She could freeze time, thought, and emotion, yet offer warmth to those she cherished. The Ancestor of Frost had become the calm before the storm—and its chilling aftermath.

Last was Athelia, her presence as steady as a mountain. Will itself bowed before her. Her body radiated golden-blue light, and behind her back was an ethereal book—the Book of Will. Her thoughts became commands, her desires foundations. Her presence made others believe—not by force, but by resonance. Her hands bore the seals of countless generations. She was now the Ancestor of Wills, the one whose determination defined destiny.

High above them, Ethan watched, his face unreadable. But his white eyes shimmered with tears, not of sadness, but pride. These weren’t just subordinates. They were his family. His will had become theirs. His legacy had become their future.

And now... they were ready. Almost.

...

As the final rays of light dissipated, the air slowly returned to stillness. The immense runes of power that had encircled them began to fade, dissolving like stardust into the ether. The dense pressure that had once pinned them in awe had vanished, yet the echoes of what had just occurred still pulsed beneath their skin.

Their appearances were changed—permanently. Their very beings had been refined. Though their overwhelming powers were now restrained, carefully sealed by an automatic failsafe encoded within the Grimoire to prevent instability, they were keenly aware something fundamental had shifted within them.

Lusamine, whose golden robes shimmered faintly with celestial light, turned slightly and asked in a calm, resonant voice that carried divine authority, "What happened to us?"

Before anyone could answer, Ethan descended from the air above them like a god returning to earth. Each slow step downward rippled through the land. The very air trembled under the weight of his presence, and instinctively, all of them straightened, reverence taking root in their hearts.

When his feet touched the ground, a tremor rolled across the field. For a moment, it was like the entire universe recognized the arrival of something higher.

"Oh my god..." Sixtie breathed. The Sin of Pride, always poised and proud, now knelt with no resistance. Her crimson eyes glistened with awe. For the first time in her life, her pride bowed—completely and without protest.

Ethan smiled faintly as he folded his legs and sat slowly on the grass, exhaling deeply. "You’ve all evolved," he began, his voice low and rich. "Into your highest forms—your truest selves. Ancestors. The pinnacle of your bloodlines."

Harley was the first to reach him, her hair flowing behind her like liquid emeralds. She kneeled beside him with worry etching her features, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you alright?" she asked softly.

"I’m fine," Ethan replied with a chuckle, gently patting her head. "Just a bit drained. The process wasn’t exactly easy."

Clara, Andriel, Lisa, Pisces, Athelia, and Carmen arrived right after, forming a protective semicircle around him. The bond between them all was palpable, and the glow of their recent transformation still clung to them like divine mist.

Ethan looked at the rest of the group who had begun to gather in silence, processing the weight of what had just occurred.

"What you just experienced..." Ethan began again, his voice calm but heavy with truth, "is the first taste of what it means to be an Ancestor. A status even greater than that of a Primogenitor. You’ve stepped into a level of existence that places you one step below the gods."

Murmurs of shock stirred through the crowd, but no one interrupted.

"However," Ethan continued, raising a hand, "while you now possess the authority of an Ancestor, your strength does not yet match that potential. Think of it this way—you’ve been awakened, not completed. Your paths have been fully revealed, your bloodlines fully awakened, but the journey to master these powers remains."

He paused to let that sink in.

"You’ll be able to use some of your Ancestral abilities now," he added, "but overuse will come at a price. Severe exhaustion. Comas. In worst cases, regression—your soul forcibly locked down to preserve itself."

Trevor’s brows drew together, his hands clenching slightly. "So, we’ve gained the keys to a kingdom but haven’t yet learned to open all the doors..."

Ethan smiled. "Exactly."

Emily, perched comfortably on Trevor’s lap, her emerald eyes still glowing with traces of nature’s divinity, tilted her head. "Then what does that make you?" she asked, her tone sharper than the rest. "You helped us evolve. You’re clearly far above us. So what exactly are you, Ethan?"

Everyone turned to him, their gazes a blend of curiosity, awe, and wonder.

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You always were the quick one, Emily," he said fondly. Then he looked around, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

"What am I...?"

The sourc𝗲 of this content is free(w)𝒆bnov(𝒆)l