Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 100: Crimson Awakening. End.

Ethan’s chest heaved as he stepped back into the now-familiar circular chamber. Each breath felt like fire, his body heavy and exhausted from the brutal trials he had faced—each one more grueling than the last. The echoes of his friends’ voices, twisted and accusing, still reverberated in his mind, gnawing at his psyche. He had confronted his fears, doubts, and guilt, but the weight of those encounters lingered like scars on his soul. Now, he stood at the threshold of something even greater, something more profound than he could yet grasp.

Closing his eyes, Ethan let the silence of the chamber wash over him. The air, once oppressive and stifling, now seemed alive, humming with an otherworldly energy. It was a subtle vibration that set his nerves on edge, a quiet tension like the calm before a storm. Bracing himself for the next trial, he waited. But as the silence stretched into suffocating stillness, unease crept in.

Then the light changed.

It flickered like a dying star, a pulse of brilliance that bathed the chamber in an intense, blinding glow. Ethan instinctively shielded his eyes, but the light continued to grow, forcing him to his knees. His heartbeat quickened, his breath shallow and ragged, as the weight of the trials pressed down on him once more. The radiance reached its peak, filling every crevice of the room until it seemed there was nothing else.

As the light faded, a figure began to materialize at the chamber’s center. It was tall, shrouded in flickering shadows, its form shifting and unstable—human yet unmistakably otherworldly. An aura of power and serenity radiated from the being, the air itself trembling under its authority.

Ethan swallowed hard; his throat dry. The figure was both beautiful and terrifying, a paradox that made him feel like an insect before a god.

The figure raised a hand, and silence fell like a heavy shroud over the chamber.

"You have passed each trial, Ethan, with determination and resilience," the being’s voice echoed, soft yet commanding, reverberating not through the air but through Ethan’s very being. It was a voice that existed everywhere at once, inside and outside him.

Ethan clenched his fists, standing tall despite the overwhelming presence. "What are you?"

The being tilted its head, its flickering form coming momentarily into focus before blurring again. "I am the Arbiter of Trials, a force beyond time and space. I am both judge and guide, the keeper of your fate in this trial of growth."

"Growth?" Ethan repeated, confusion flickering in his chest. He had already passed the trials. What more was there to understand?

"Indeed," the Arbiter said, its voice calm but laden with ancient wisdom. "These trials were not meant to break you but to shape you into something greater. You have faced fear, betrayal, and doubt. You have tested the limits of your strength, your heart, and your mind. But now, you must face the final truth: the truth of your own self."

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat. "The truth of myself?"

"Yes," the Arbiter replied, stepping forward, its shadowy form solidifying slightly. "All the trials were reflections of your inner turmoil—your fears, doubts, and unresolved questions. But now, you stand at the precipice of the final revelation. Do you know yourself, Ethan? Do you truly understand the man you have become?"

Ethan hesitated, the words cutting deeper than he expected. He had been thrust into these trials without his consent, without any preparation. He had not asked for the responsibility placed on him, nor had he truly stopped to question who he was beneath the weight of all the expectations.

"I... I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Arbiter’s eyes glowed brighter, and the air seemed to crackle with anticipation. "Then that is your final trial: to confront the truth of who you are. To face the parts of you that you have ignored, the parts you have hidden away. Are you ready, Ethan?"

The chamber remained still, its smooth, unyielding walls offering no solace. There was no escape, no way out but through. The question hung heavily in the air, more daunting than any physical challenge.

Ethan could feel the echoes of the previous trials within him, each one peeling back layers of his psyche to expose deeper truths. The memories of his friends—their words of betrayal, though false—had dredged up something far more personal. Something he had buried.

"I don’t know what’s going on. This is not me. It’s someone else. This trial... it has similarities to my experiences, but it’s not mine. I know that. I’m sure of that. What is going on exactly?" Ethan said, his voice tinged with contemplation. Enjoy new tales from novelbuddy

"It seems you are catching on to it. Good," the Arbiter said, a faint note of approval in its tone. "But it is not in my place to confirm these things. The answer lies within you. You have passed the Trial of Blood and taken the first step into becoming a Blood Primogenitor. I will be watching you. Perhaps one day, we will meet in a more comfortable place. Until then, young Primogenitor."

Before Ethan could respond, the world around him began to crumble, the chamber disintegrating like dust in the wind. He braced himself, expecting to return to Anbord. But instead, he found himself back in the blood world.

This time, he was seated on a black throne adorned with red jewels that gleamed ominously. He felt different—taller, stronger, more mature. His aura was heavy and powerful, a force of its own.

But he wasn’t alone.

In front of him sat another Ethan.

...

In front of him sat another Ethan, perched on an imposing throne of his own. This throne was far grander than Ethan’s—a construct of intertwining black and crimson that seemed alive, pulsating faintly with an unearthly rhythm.

This Ethan was a giant of a man, standing as he rose from the throne, easily towering at 7.5 feet. His long red hair fell in waves to his knees, and his glowing crimson eyes bore an unsettling intensity. His slim but athletic frame exuded raw power, veins glowing like molten lava beneath pale, glossy skin. His upper body was bare, adorned with intricate crimson vein-like tattoos that seemed to shift and pulse with a life of their own. He wore a ceremonial black skirt with intricate red designs and simple black sandals.

As he approached, his expression was cold, a mixture of disdain and arrogance that felt suffocating. Ethan stared up at the figure before him, his body instinctively tensing. The similarities were unnerving—they had the same face, the same features, yet everything else about this other Ethan radiated a presence both alien and familiar.

"So, you passed it, huh?" the towering figure said, his tone sharp with irritation, as though disappointed by the outcome.

Ethan straightened, forcing himself to stand despite the oppressive aura. "Do you think I’m that weak?"

The other Ethan scoffed, his expression twisting into one of mocking pity. "I’m the only one who asks questions here, weakling." His voice boomed like a distant thunder, and with it came an aura that flared out behind him, a tidal wave of blood-red energy.

Ethan stood his ground, meeting the other’s gaze without flinching. His own aura stirred, calmer but no less potent—a quiet storm ready to strike. "So, you’re him, huh?" Ethan’s voice was steady, his eyes narrowing. "You call me weak, but you couldn’t protect your allies with all this power. I wonder who the real weakling is here."

The words struck deep. The other Ethan’s eyes widened for a split second before narrowing into a glare. His voice trembled with both anger and something deeper—pain. "You! I did what I could. You have no right to judge me."

"So what? You’re the origin of an immortal race, but what’s the point of all that power if you couldn’t even live long enough to protect what mattered?" Ethan’s voice was cutting, each word deliberate.

"I... I... Please, let’s talk."

The abrupt shift in tone caught Ethan off guard. The once-arrogant figure’s voice softened, almost breaking. Though his expression remained stoic, there was an unmistakable sorrow in his eyes. He lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged on the crimson-streaked surface, and gestured for Ethan to join him.

Still wary, Ethan hesitated before sitting a few feet away. The tension between them eased slightly, though the air was still thick with unspoken emotions.

"Actually, what you experienced in the trial was my life," the other Ethan began, his voice subdued. "Every pain, every loss—you lived it all as I did. It was so unbearable that I chose to end my life. I lost my friends, my family, my allies... Everything I ever cared about was ripped away from me, and all I had left was this curse, this power."

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. For all the arrogance and power this being exuded, there was a crushing despair beneath it.

"I managed to succeed," the other continued, his voice faltering. "Ending my life wasn’t easy. As the sole origin of a race, and an immortal one at that, dying is... complicated. But I found a way." He looked around the blood-red expanse. "And yet, here I am, trapped in this world of blood. I saw your life, a new version of mine filled with things I could only dream of—joy, love, companionship."

Ethan could hear the bitterness creeping into his voice but also longing.

"I wanted to experience it... even if only through you. But that damned old man destroyed all my hopes." His voice hardened, his fists clenching as he finished.

"Old man?" Ethan asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Did someone just call me old?" a deep, booming voice echoed. The sound tore through the crimson world, shaking the very ground beneath them and cracking the sky like shattered glass.

Ethan froze, his heart pounding. He recognized that voice.

"Zark?" he whispered in disbelief.

There was a faint chuckle, reverberating through the blood-soaked air. "We’ll talk later, kid. It’s time for you to bond with that muscle-headed bastard."

Before Ethan could respond, the cracks in the world began to heal, the voice retreating as quickly as it had come.

The other Ethan—Kael—looked at him with a mixture of surprise and reverence. "You’re close with him?"

Ethan nodded hesitantly, still processing. "Yeah. We’re... kind of close."

Kael gave a dry laugh. "You’re blessed, then."

"Thanks... I think."

Kael’s expression sobered. "I can’t say much; your time here is running out. The Empress has placed a temporary seal on us to make the transition easier. You’ll experience my memories, my knowledge... everything. All you need to know is that we are one and the same."

Ethan frowned, the weight of those words settling over him. "What do you mean by that?"

"Do you know there are other worlds apart from yours?" Kael asked.

"Yes."

"Then do you know of realities?"

"No... What is that?"

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Kael shook his head. "You’ll understand in time. For now, focus on what’s ahead. Help your brother out, okay? He needs to awaken too. I don’t want what happened to me to repeat itself."

"I already made plans for that," Ethan said firmly.

"Good."

Silence fell between them for a moment before Ethan spoke again. "I never learned your name, though..."

"Kael."

"Ethan."

Kael gave him a small nod. "See you later, me."

"See you soon."

Ethan blinked, his vision adjusting to a dark room illuminated by faint, shimmering blue lights. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet, only to come face-to-face with his brother, Trevor.

"Hi there," Trevor greeted, smirking. "How was it?"

"Hell," Ethan muttered.

"You look like a zombie," Trevor teased.

"Get ready for yours," Ethan shot back, lunging at Trevor.

The two brothers grappled, their usual banter devolving into playful roughhousing. The commotion drew the attention of others, who streamed into the cultivation area.

When they saw Ethan—now standing at 6.7 feet, with an aura more imposing than ever—strangling his slightly shorter brother, their eyes widened in shock.

Ethan turned to them with a grin, his crimson eyes gleaming. Before anyone could speak, his girls rushed forward, throwing themselves at him.

"We missed you so much!"

"I was only gone a few hours," Ethan protested, laughing.

"It doesn’t matter!"

Their embrace turned into a chaotic flurry of hugs and scolding, Ethan’s laughter echoing through the chamber as life returned to a semblance of normalcy.