Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 302: Visiting the Beast Plane Again

"I guess I'll be visiting the Beast Plane sooner than expected," Ethan chuckled, a ripple of nostalgia washing through him like sunlight over old stone. His mind drifted back to the first wild surge of power when the system awakened, to the trials that carved his bond with each Spirit Beast, and the final campaign against Luciel, where those very bonds turned the tide.

One hell of a ride indeed.

"Well… you would've gone there sooner or later," the Grimoire of Order remarked, drifting alongside him. "It is part of your inheritance, after all."

Ethan nodded, stretching his senses outward. "Mm. Let me bid the others farewell first. I can't keep it waiting."

A subtle golden light unfurled from his body — warm, silent, sovereign.

In the next moment, he vanished from the garden.

...

The mansion buzzed with life.

Laughter and light footsteps echoed through the halls as children chased each other with little spells flickering from their fingers — harmless illusions of butterflies, glowing orbs, or colorful sparks.

The aroma of roasted herbs and fresh bread wafted from the kitchens, where the women were either chatting over simmering pots or trading family gossip with the kind of warmth that came only after hard-won peace.

In the eastern wing, the men gathered in clusters — some sparring lightly in the courtyard, others locked in animated debate about tactics, trade routes, or the best seasoning for stew.

And in the heart of it all — at the center of an ornate lounge surrounded by soft pillows and flickering light-crystals — sat Trevor.

Encased.

That was the only word.

Encased in beauty, mischief, and danger.

On his right, the sharp yet graceful presence of Emily, his vampire queen, lounged lazily with a goblet of thick red essence swirling in her hand — her smile equal parts adoration and veiled threat.

On his left, the fiery and ever-unpredictable Sixtie, his demon bride, leaned into him with a grin that promised chaos, whispering something in his ear that made his eye twitch.

And across from him, seated with an unreadable calm, was Amara Chronsera — the third known dragon in all of Anbord.

Her deep blue hair flowed like water drawn from the night sky, shimmering faintly with magic, while her wheel-like grey eyes spun slowly as she observed everything, including Trevor's mounting discomfort.

Amara tilted her head.

"You look uncomfortable, King Sanguivar," she said, voice cool and amused.

Trevor sighed, trapped between desire and dread. "This is bullying. Diplomatic bullying."

"Three women and a throne. Sounds like destiny to me," Sixtie purred.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Just don't let him faint again."

"I didn't faint," Trevor snapped. "I—"

A golden shimmer flickered in the air.

All eyes turned.

Ethan appeared.

Not with fanfare, but with presence. Quiet and calm — yet his arrival made the space still, as if the mansion itself acknowledged him.

"Big brother," Trevor muttered, half in relief, half in warning. "You're interrupting something delicate."

"I know," Ethan said with a smirk. "That's why I came now. Finally accepted her?"

Amara smiled faintly. "Going somewhere?"

Ethan nodded. "The Beast Plane."

A brief silence.

Then Sixtie arched a brow. "Another breakthrough?"

"Not quite. A correction."

Trevor sat up straighter. "Do you need backup?"

"No," Ethan replied, golden light flickering in his pupils. "This is something only I can do."

He looked around the lounge — at the warmth, the laughter in distant halls, the peace that had been earned with blood and sacrifice.

And he smiled.

"I'll return soon," he said.

"We will be waiting, honey," Harley said with a reassuring smile, speaking for all of his wives.

Then, with a final nod, he vanished — golden light curling into nothingness.

"You know, Athelia, you should've gone with him," Clara said suddenly, smacking Athelia playfully on the butt.

"Ow! Hey! I'm not his Spirit Beast anymore — I'm his wife now," Athelia retorted, rubbing her backside with a pout.

"That's not what Clara meant, you idiot," Andriel chimed in, promptly bonking Athelia on the head.

"Ow again! Can you people stop hitting me already?!" Athelia whined, clutching her head like a scolded child. "Big brother Trevor... help..."

Trevor didn't even turn around. "Yeah, no. I'm currently under siege by three forces of nature. You're on your own."

"Traitor!" Athelia hissed dramatically.

Across the room, little Delphina looked up from her drawing pad and tugged gently at Lisa's sleeve. "Mommy, where is Daddy going?"

Lisa smiled softly and knelt beside her. "Have you heard of the Divine Beasts?"

Delphina's golden eyes lit up. "Yes! Miss Erica told us about them in class! They helped Daddy defeat the Wind Primogenitor, right? And they're Daddy's partners!"

"Exactly," Lisa nodded. "And do you remember who one of them became?"

Delphina grinned. "Yes! Mommy Athelia — the Crimson Serpent!"

"Mmhm. But now that she's no longer his beast, but his wife instead…" Lisa glanced teasingly at Athelia, "your father needs to find someone new to fill that role. Someone who can embody the missing affinity."

Delphina tilted her head. "Psychic?"

"Correct," Lisa said. "That's what Daddy's looking for now. A new Divine Beast to complete the harmony."

"And the others?" Delphina asked curiously.

Lisa's smile widened. "They're waking up. All of them. I'm sure you'll meet them soon — once your father returns."

Delphina nodded solemnly, then looked toward the balcony, as if sensing something far, far away.

...

The dark portal collapsed behind him with a soundless ripple.

Ethan stood still.

For a long moment, he simply breathed — letting the atmosphere of the Beast Plane settle into his bones like a familiar scent after a long absence.

The air was different here. Dense with essence. Layered with ancient wills.

He stepped forward onto the obsidian stone platform that jutted from the edge of a floating cliff.

Chains — vast, thick, and etched with glowing runes — snaked through the air like frozen rivers of iron, linking the hovering mountains together. Each mountain pulsed faintly with life, like the beating hearts of ancient titans.

Above it all, the sky was a vast, slow-churning ocean.

A literal sea — endless and upside down — swaying with impossible calm. Leviathans glided through it, their silhouettes enormous and silent, like memories half-forgotten.

Ethan smiled.

It hadn't changed.

Not the gravity-defying landscapes. Not the surreal layering of planes. Not the subtle hum that whispered to his Saint Core like a distant melody he almost remembered.

"I'm home," he said softly, his voice swept away by the drifting wind.

The last time he stood here, he was hunting, bleeding, desperate. Now, he was complete. Elevated. A Saint.

Yet the Beast Plane didn't bow to him.

It watched.

It waited.

It remembered.

His feet left faint trails of gold as he walked across the chain-bridge, his aura instinctively adjusting to the realm's unique flow. The deeper he went, the stronger the pull. His beasts — Galeno, Malverick, Stygian, Onyx, and Sage — were resonating already, each tethered to different peaks across the plane.

But they weren't the reason he'd come.

Not this time.

No, this visit was for something else. Something missing.

The sixth.

A Psychic affinity — the one piece his soul couldn't harmonize alone.

"I suppose you're here," Ethan whispered, gazing toward the farthest mountain, the one where the sea above seemed to bend unnaturally, like it was watching back.

The wind answered with silence.

He stepped forward.

And the Beast Plane stirred.

...

The chains trembled.

Not violently. Not even visibly. But the elders felt it.

In the high perch of Ka'Darrah, nestled upon one of the floating mountain mesas bound by ancient runic chains, the air shimmered with instinctual tension.

A large fire crackled in the heart of the tribal grounds — blue flames licking at the air as warriors circled it in rhythmic motions. Their movements were precise, ritualistic — a dance of unity and power meant to honor the Great Beast Lineage that had birthed them.

They were the T'shalari, children of scale and blood, ancient keepers of this region of the Beast Plane.

Their skin ranged from deep crimson to burgundy-black, gleaming in the otherworldly glow of the sea above. Coarse dark hair braided with bone and shell hung down their backs. Some bore horns — twisting, jagged things that marked bloodlines of high resonance — while others had none, their power focused in glowing sigils that pulsed beneath their skin. Their long reptilian tails coiled and flicked with emotion, and their reptilian eyes — violet, gold, or piercing blue — missed nothing.

A hunt had just returned. The carcass of a two-headed sky-stalker beast was dragged into the circle, its body still steaming from the strike of soulfire spears.

The children laughed, playing near the chain edge, while elders sat on obsidian thrones carved from the bones of extinct titans.

Then it happened.

A subtle pause in the drums. A sharp cry from the skybeasts circling the upper reaches. The fire hissed unnaturally.

High Chieftain Vael'korr, a towering figure with a blue-scaled chest, bone ridges on his cheeks, and golden vertical pupils, rose slowly to his feet.

His nostrils flared.

"…something has arrived," he rumbled, his voice echoing like a stone dropped into a deep well.

The hunters fell silent.

The elders looked toward the outer chain-ridges.

"Not something," whispered Zaari, the blind Seeress whose horns curved like crescent moons over her shoulders. "Someone."

The wind shifted.

And the land remembered an old scent.

One that had passed through here long ago — soaked in blood and will — now returned with power no longer mortal.

"The golden one," she hissed, her eyes white with vision.

The T'shalari murmured among themselves.

And from the shadows of the mountain, their guardians stirred.

Because in the realm of beasts and bloodlines, even gods tread carefully.

And Ethan had just set foot in the old lands.