Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 487: Gathering of Powerhouses at the Ball

Chapter 487: Gathering of Powerhouses at the Ball

The long-awaited evening finally descended upon Anbord, draping the imperial capital in a mantle of starlight and ceremonial splendor. The castle of the empire rose like a monument carved from destiny itself, its towers illuminated by layers of arcane light shifted between gold, silver, and deep cosmic blue. The air hummed, not with noise, but with anticipation.

One by one, delegations arrived. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

High authorities from tribes, kingdoms, empires, sects, conclaves, and ancient bloodlines streamed toward the castle gates, each group escorted by professional ball-bearers, elite ceremonial aides trained not only in etiquette but in combat, magic suppression, and emergency evacuation. Their presence alone spoke volumes. This was not merely a celebration. This was an event that would be watched by history.

Around the castle grounds, Imperial Knights stood stationed at perfectly calculated vantage points; on rooftops, balconies, floating platforms, and arcane pylons embedded into the very air. They wore immaculate black military suits lined with sharp silver detailing, tailored to perfection, practical yet regal. On every breast pocket rested the crest of the empire: three interlocking golden rings, subtly glowing as if alive.

They did not move, nor did they speak.

They didn’t need to.

Their auras pressed outward like invisible walls.

More than a few guests, emperors, patriarchs, and elders, attempted to discreetly probe their strength.

What followed was a strong shock!

Even the weakest among the stationed knights registered at the absolute peak of the Expert Level, their foundations frighteningly stable, their cores refined to a degree that suggested ruthless training and impossible resources. Several visiting powerhouses felt cold sweat bead at their temples. An empire that stationed such monsters as guards was not an empire to test.

And then there were the ones at the gate.

Situated directly at the grand entrance of the castle stood six figures, evenly spaced, unmoving as statues carved from authority itself. These were the High Commanders of the Imperial Knights, each holding the rank of General.

Their uniforms mirrored those of the knights, but were inverted in symbolism. Black military suits trimmed with white detailing, sharp and pristine, radiating command rather than obedience. The empire’s crest on their chests was larger, more defined, etched with ancient reinforcement runes.

Their presence was… oppressive.

Not chaotic. Not violent.

But very disciplined.

Each of them radiated a different pressure, one sharp and cutting, another vast and suffocating, another calm in a way that promised absolute annihilation if disturbed. The moment guests stepped within range, conversations faltered, postures straightened, and even seasoned rulers instinctively slowed their steps.

This was not intimidation by threat.

This was intimidation by certainty.

A silent message rang clear in every mind that crossed the threshold:

BEHAVE.

No spells were cast. No weapons were drawn. No words were spoken.

And yet discipline settled over the arriving guests like an unbreakable law.

Beyond the gates, the castle awaited… warm lights, music woven with subtle mystic harmonies, and the promise of a ceremony that would mark an era.

But before anyone could witness the celebration…

They first had to pass through the empire’s judgment.

And Anbord made sure they understood exactly where they stood.

Far from the Generals yet still close enough to the castle to feel its sovereign weight stood another line of authority, the Knights of the Dawn Cross.

They were dressed in dark blue military suits, the color deep and solemn like a twilight ocean, accented with clean silver details that caught the light without demanding it. Their formation was looser than that of the Imperial Knights, but no less disciplined. This was not rigidity born of fear, but confidence forged through countless engagements fought and won.

They were led by Yamal, the second-in-command beneath Regnare, a man whose presence carried the quiet certainty of someone who had survived battles most only read about (Tyrant’s battle). His gaze swept across the arriving guests with calm precision, already cataloging threats, temperaments, and intentions. At his side, the Knights assisted the one currently acting as the castle’s chief receiver of guests, the butler.

And it was only right that assistance was provided.

Because the butler was terrifying.

Not loud.

Not aggressive.

Not ostentatious.

Terrifying in the way the end of all things is terrifying.

The man standing there in pristine butler attire, posture perfect and expression serene, was Galeno, the Divine Tortoise, Ethan’s strongest spirit guardian. He welcomed emperors and monarchs with a gentle nod and polite words, yet every step he took felt as though the world itself adjusted to accommodate him.

Galeno was the very definition of an End.

His presence did not crush.

It settled.

As though time itself slowed just a fraction around him, instinctively aware that resistance was meaningless. More than one high-ranking guest felt their cultivation react involuntarily, defensive barriers flickering to life before being quietly suppressed by their owners in sheer embarrassment.

In a practical sense, Galeno’s power exceeded that of most members of the Kael’Dri family.

Exclude the divine figures, Zark and Asteria.

Exclude the dragons, Barki, and Amara.

Exclude, of course, Ethan himself.

Even then, Galeno stood alone.

Second only to Ethan in absolute might, his strength was not flashy or explosive. It was ancient, layered, immovable. The kind of power that did not need to prove itself because it had already outlasted proof.

And yet, here he was.

Politely receiving invitations.

Guiding guests toward the inner halls.

Speaking in a calm, respectful tone befitting a servant.

The contrast was almost absurd.

The Knights of the Dawn Cross knew better than to relax, but even they found reassurance in Galeno’s presence. With him standing at the threshold, the castle was not merely guarded.

It was final.

Anyone who crossed that line with ill intent would not be fought.

They would simply… end.

Galeno was Ethan’s spirit beast first and foremost. They were tied directly by their souls, just below the level of soulmates, which was now at the existential level.

And that made him much scarier to most, even the dragons around, Sol, and Aokuryu.

If a Saint Realm, or rather, a Sacred Realm Divine Tortoise, was being used as a butler, then how powerful was the emperor?

This question echoed in the minds of most of them.

Anbord was once a continent. It became a kingdom all of a sudden, and then an empire in less than a month.

Just this told volumes about how dangerous it was, but none had realized it until now.

“You’re welcome, Queen Fenrir. I hope your quarters were to your liking.”

Galeno inclined his head ever so slightly toward the woman before him.

She was striking in a way that went beyond beauty. Her blue battle dress flowed like frozen moonlight, threaded with white designs that resembled claw marks etched by winter itself. On her left breast rested the crest of Fenrir, a white wolf howling at a crescent moon. Upon her head sat a tiara formed of intertwined lunar energy and crystalline ice, radiating a quiet, regal chill.

Behind her stood five figures, each clad in similar attire but lacking crests or tiaras. Their bearing alone marked them as elites.

She was Emma.

The Queen of Fenrir.

The World Wolf.

“Thank you, Mr. Galeno,” Queen Emma replied warmly. “I truly enjoyed my stay. You have my gratitude. I hope you’ve been well?”

She bowed.

Not a token nod. Not a half-motion.

A proper bow.

For a heartbeat, the world around them seemed to stall.

The five behind her stiffened, eyes widening in disbelief. Members of the Fenrir royal line exchanged stunned glances. The World Wolf did not bow. That was not rumor or exaggeration; it was fact, etched into history and reinforced by centuries of precedent.

Yet here she was, bowing like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Galeno straightened, his smile gentle, ancient, and faintly amused. “Most certainly. Please enjoy the ball.”

Then, quite deliberately, he added a wink.

Queen Emma froze for half a second.

Then her ears reddened.

Her cheeks followed.

She recovered quickly, nodded with practiced composure, and turned toward the grand hall, but her steps carried a subtle bounce, just a touch lighter than before. The faint sway of her tail betrayed her far more than she likely realized.

As she departed with her retinue, murmurs rippled through the gathered guests.

Galeno… smiling?

Galeno… flirting?

Galeno… being casual?

Even the Knights of the Dawn Cross exchanged glances, their disciplined expressions cracking with confusion.

Galeno noticed, of course.

Without turning his head, a calm telepathic message settled into their minds, heavy with quiet authority.

“She is one of the emperor’s soulmates. Treat her accordingly.”

Understanding struck like a hammer.

Postures straightened.

Auras were reined in.

Respect, true respect, fell into place instantly.

Galeno returned to his position, hands folded behind his back, expression serene once more.

But those who had witnessed the exchange would remember it for a long time.

Not because a queen had bowed.

But because the End itself had smiled at her, and meant it.

‘I wonder… would Master act today or wait…”

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