Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 279: The Grimoire of Order

Ethan stood up slowly, the weight of the meditation and vision still grounding him like invisible chains. But now, those chains no longer restricted him—they simply reminded him of where he stood.

He raised his right hand and focused.

A flash of violet light flickered in his palm, curling upward like smoke before solidifying. It wasn't summoned like before, when it had simply appeared with the System's will. This time, he called it.

The Grimoire of Origin materialized—an ancient tome bound in deep obsidian leather that shimmered faintly with gold-etched runes. Its surface breathed slowly, like a sleeping beast, and the air grew heavy around it.

Barki stepped back and watched in silence.

The Grimoire floated in front of Ethan and slowly opened on its own, pages fluttering until it stopped on one that was blank. Then, in ink of stardust and crimson, words began to form.

"Welcome, Host. I have waited."

Ethan took a breath. "We've met before, haven't we? Back when I awakened."

"Yes. But you did not yet see me for what I was. You only heard me. I was the System then. I am the same, yet no longer bound by code or limit. You awakened me into divinity."

"Then what are you exactly?" Ethan asked.

"I am a reflection of you, forged by your destiny and your soul. I am your memory, your future, your potential. I am your power—but also your record, your contract, your judgment. I am the Truth that follows you and binds the World to your Will."

Ethan frowned slightly. "So… you're like a second consciousness?"

"No. I am you. But I am also more. I know the paths you may take. I record them. I alter them, when you command it. I am your Witness and your Weapon."

Ethan was silent. "Can you tell me about the Saint Realm?"

"You already walk it. But you must understand it not as a destination, but as a state of authorship. The Saint Realm is when the world no longer acts upon you—you act upon it. Not through brute strength, but through Will."

"Then what is beyond the Saint Realm?"

There was a long pause.

Then, slowly, a new page turned. One he'd never seen before.

The ink on this page was glowing gold. It read:

"The Domain of Saints ends at Transcendence."

"Beyond Saints… are the Auctors. Writers of Reality. Makers of Truth. Gods not by title, but by action. Few ascend. Fewer remain sane."

"You are not there yet. But you are meant to be."

Ethan's eyes narrowed as he clenched his fist. "Then teach me."

The Grimoire flipped again, this time revealing a diagram—concentric rings, each marked with symbols he barely understood. But one at the center pulsed gently. It was marked: "Primordial Point."

"First, you must master this. The Origin Seed. The core of all your power. It lies within your soul, hidden behind the noise of your lineage, abilities, and emotions. Once accessed, it can be shaped."

"Can I begin now?"

"Yes. But be warned. To seek the Origin Seed is to face your inner chaos, your deepest fears, and your truest desire. It is not a battlefield of flesh, but of self."

Ethan nodded once. "I've faced death and madness. I'll survive myself."

The Grimoire glowed and slowly sank into his chest, merging with him. A seal of golden light pulsed briefly over his heart before fading.

Barki approached with a small smile. "So? What did it say?"

"It said… I haven't even started."

"Exactly. Now go—find your Origin Seed. And when you return... the world will not be ready for what you become."

"Can I still talk with you through my mind?" Ethan asked silently, unsure if the connection still remained.

A cold, mechanical voice responded at once. "Yes. I am still the same, just different in manifestation."

Ethan frowned. "Ugh, I don't like this mechanical tone."

"I have no mortal identity. I am function, not form."

"Can I give you one?"

"Yes."

"Then you're male. And you're no longer the Grimoire of Origin… You're the Grimoire of Order now."

A pause. The voice shifted, becoming deeper, richer, and more resonant. "Why Order?"

"Because if the Saint Realm is about defining oneself, then my Path matters too. I don't know how or why, but I feel like my final destination… my true power… will come from fully becoming what my Path leads me to be."

"You are wrong... and right at the same time," the Grimoire of Order replied, more human now. "Take it slow. You will understand when you get there."

Ethan smirked. "Do you still have all my weapons and everything from when you were the system?"

"Guess."

Ethan laughed. "I like this version of you way more. You're like a second me."

"Don't insult me by comparing me to an idiot."

"F**k you, bro!"

"Haha."

"So," Ethan said with a smirk still lingering on his face, "mind showing me what's left in your vault?"

"You make it sound like I hoard treasures. But yes, everything is still here."

A surge of data rushed through Ethan's mind—not raw information, but sensation and memory, like forgotten instincts returning. Images danced across his vision—flickers of weapons he'd wielded in chaos and war, powers that had once pulsed through his veins.

Then came the weapon.

It shimmered into view within his mental space. A fusion of lethal elegance and brutal force. It was neither one weapon nor many, but all at once—sword, spear, warhammer, chain, and a pair of daggers—shifting effortlessly between forms as if responding to his thoughts.

"You never gave it a name," the Grimoire of Order said in a low hum. "It's been waiting."

Ethan stared at it for a long while. So much of him had changed. But this weapon had always been there—faithful, loyal, devastating.

"Velgrath."

"Velgrath?"

"Yeah. It means 'Silent Judgment' in Old Anbordian. Fitting for a weapon that never fails to strike true."

The Grimoire seemed to pause, then replied with a warm resonance: "Velgrath it is."

Ethan extended his palm in the spiritual space, and the weapon shimmered, compressing into a small seal-like sigil.

"Bind it to me. No… bind it to you," Ethan said, the decision flowing through instinct.

"To me?"

"Yes. If you're the Grimoire of Order, then let Velgrath be your weapon as much as mine. You're the keeper. When I call, you deliver."

The Grimoire pulsed with light, absorbing the sigil. "Bound. Velgrath is now part of the Archive. Only you may summon it. Its soul is linked to yours… and mine."

"Damn, that sounds good," Ethan chuckled.

Behind him, Barki had been watching in silence. Her eyes flickered lightly as she smiled, a knowing expression on her face. Without a word, she turned and walked away, leaving him in peace—not because he was meditating in the traditional sense, but because she understood this was a sacred moment of clarity and growth.

The Grimoire of Order spoke again, its tone casual now, almost amused. "You're starting to look less like an idiot."

"Coming from you, that's a compliment," Ethan smirked. "Now… show me the next thing. Master of Auras? I missed it."

"Ah… that," the Grimoire said. "That, my dear idiot, is where things get complicated—and fun."