Ancestral Lineage

Ethan sidestepped Christel's fiery slash, the broadsword blazing with heat as it cut through the air. His expression was no longer the mocking, carefree one he'd worn earlier—it had turned cold and calculating, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the grove.

Before Christel could recover from her missed strike, Ethan moved with startling speed, closing the gap between them in the blink of an eye. His fist crashed into her chest, the sound of the impact echoing like thunder. The force of the blow sent her skidding backward, her boots carving deep furrows in the earth as she fought to stay upright.

Christel gasped, clutching at her chest as pain radiated through her ribcage. Her red hair clung to her sweat-slicked face, and her dark skin was flushed from the exertion. But her green eyes burned with fierce determination. She straightened, using her sword to steady herself, and glared at Ethan.

"You think I'm done?" she growled, her voice shaking but resolute.

Ethan tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "You should be. This fight was over the moment you opened your mouth."

Christel snarled and lunged at him, her sword blazing to life once more. She poured every ounce of her strength into the attack, the flames around her weapon roaring like a living beast. She swung with all her might, the fire leaving streaks of light in the air as the blade arced toward Ethan.

But Ethan didn't flinch. His hand shot out, catching the flat of the blade mid-swing. Sparks erupted as his iron grip halted the weapon in its tracks. Christel's eyes widened in disbelief as Ethan held the blazing sword effortlessly, the heat and force seemingly having no effect on him.

"That's enough of this," he said, his voice low and calm. With a sharp twist, he wrenched the sword from her grasp and tossed it aside. The weapon flew through the air, embedding itself deep into the trunk of a tree with a resounding thunk.

Christel barely had time to react before Ethan's knee drove into her stomach with crushing force. The impact lifted her off her feet, and she doubled over, choking as the air was forced from her lungs. Blood splattered from her mouth, staining the front of her battered armor.

Ethan didn't give her a moment's respite. His hand clamped down on her shoulder, and he spun, hurling her into the ground with terrifying strength. The earth cracked beneath her, and a sharp cry of pain escaped her lips as she hit the ground hard.

"You talk a lot for someone so outmatched," Ethan said, his voice devoid of malice yet carrying an edge that made it all the more chilling. "But talk doesn't win fights."

Christel's body trembled as she tried to push herself up. Her hands dug into the dirt, her fiery aura flickering weakly around her like a candle on the verge of going out. Her strength was nearly gone, but the defiance in her green eyes remained unbroken.

Ethan stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. He reached down, his clawed hand digging the front of her armor, and effortlessly hoisted her into the air. Christel dangled helplessly, her feet inches from the ground as she stared into his glowing red eyes.

"You see now?" Ethan asked, his voice cold but steady. "You were never going to win this."

With a flick of his wrist, he hurled her against a nearby tree. The impact shattered the bark, sending splinters flying as Christel crumpled to the base of the trunk. Her body slumped, battered and bruised, her fiery aura extinguished.

Ethan crouched down beside her, his face close to hers. Her red hair was disheveled, framing her dark yet pale face streaked with dirt and blood. Their gazes met—hers defiant yet filled with pain, his piercing and calm.

"I could end this now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I won't. Not because you deserve mercy, but because I have better things to do than deal with you."

Christel's lips trembled as she fought to speak, but no words came. Her body refused to move, and her pride stung worse than her injuries.

Ethan straightened, brushing off his hands as though shaking off invisible dust. His crimson eyes swept over the grove, lingering briefly on the fallen forms of Christel's team, who lay scattered and unconscious.

"Remember this," he said without looking back. "The next time you insult my mother, there won't be anyone left to remember you."

He turned and walked away, his tall, broad figure vanishing into the shadows of the grove. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind.

Christel lay motionless, her body broken and her spirit shaken. She had fought with all her might, but against Ethan, it hadn't been enough. He had left her with more than just physical wounds—he had shattered her pride, leaving her to grapple with the bitter truth of her defeat.

...

Back in Antrim City, in a makeshift office bustling with outing supervisors and head authorities from all the major academies, the atmosphere was tense yet methodical. Screens displayed various zones, tracking students and teams scattered across challenging terrains for the outing. The room was alive with the hum of machines and murmured discussions until a sharp exclamation broke through the din.

Axel, a dark-haired vampire with pale skin and piercing red eyes, shot up from his chair, his expression a mix of shock and worry. His outburst drew the attention of everyone in the room, their gazes filled with confusion and disbelief.

"What's wrong, Axel?" a commanding voice cut through the rising whispers. The speaker was a burly old man with grey-white hair and intense yellow eyes—Sir Exil, a prominent figure in the council and someone not to be trifled with. His tone left no room for hesitation.

Axel swallowed hard, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he responded. "Sir Exil! There's been a malfunction in one of the teleportation portals."

Exil's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by 'malfunction'?"

Axel straightened in his seat, his voice rushed but precise. "One of the students from AMA was teleported to a completely different location, away from his team's designated position. What's worse, his device seems to have malfunctioned—no signal, no updates, nothing. The only trace we had was a brief attempt to use the device before it completely failed. Now, the signal is entirely lost."

Before Exil could respond, another supervisor chimed in from across the room. "Sir! I've located a student from AMA in the Blackstone Zone. However, his device appears to be jammed and is interfering with all nearby signals. Every other device he gets close to shuts down."

Exil's face hardened. "Give me his last known coordinates."

"Area 352, Sector 2.8," the supervisor replied. "He's moving quickly, seemingly with purpose. It looks like he knows where he's heading."

Exil nodded, his voice calm but firm. "Contact the principal of AMA. I want her in the supervision room immediately."

"On it!"

Moments later, Carmen entered the room, her presence commanding. Her face was hidden behind a veil, but her graceful movements and the cold air of authority she exuded silenced the room.

"Exil," Carmen said, her voice carrying a touch of familiarity despite its sharp edge. "What's the situation?"

Exil hesitated, his usually composed demeanor faltering as he glanced around nervously. "Carmen, before I explain, I need you to promise something."

Her head tilted slightly, and the room seemed to hold its breath. "Promise what?"

"That you won't contact your mother-in-law."

Carmen's eyes, hidden beneath the veil, seemed to narrow. "Why would I do that? And why would you even ask?"@@novelbin@@

"It's not reassuring, but I'll take it." Exil sighed deeply, his weariness evident. "Follow me."

He led her to a corner of the room, away from prying ears, his expression growing darker with each step. Once there, he turned to her, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "It appears someone is targeting your fiancé."

Carmen froze, her posture stiffening as a wave of icy fury radiated from her. "What are you saying?" she demanded, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. Discover hidden content at My Virtual Library Empire

Exil flinched but pressed on. "We've identified the student in the Blackstone Zone. It's Ethan. His teleportation was deliberately interfered with, separating him from his team. His device has been jammed, and he's currently heading toward a specific location. Based on his movements, it seems he knows exactly where he's going."

Carmen's voice darkened further. "How could he know? The devices are down."

Exil hesitated before replying. "We thought the same, but it's possible he's using telepathy to communicate with someone. However, the distances—"

"Don't underestimate Ethan," Carmen interrupted, her tone firm and filled with pride. "He has the Psychic affinity. If he's determined, he can bridge even the greatest distances."

Exil nodded reluctantly. "If you say so. But I fear this isn't a coincidence. Someone orchestrated this. They're after him, Carmen."

Her eyes glowed faintly beneath the veil, a chilling sight that made Exil take a step back. "And where is this person? Have you located the culprit?"

"Not yet, young miss, but we're working on it. We suspect they're nearby, manipulating events from within the city."

Carmen turned, her movements sharp and purposeful. "Then I will handle it. You focus on Ethan. Track his movements, but don't intervene unless absolutely necessary. He can take care of himself."

"But Carmen—"

"Don't worry, Exil. I won't contact her," she said, her tone holding a trace of mock reassurance.

Exil breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the heavens. I thought—"

"She already knows," Carmen said matter-of-factly, cutting him off.

Exil's face drained of color. "Wait… What?! You—"

"Goodbye, Exil," Carmen said, ignoring his outburst as she strode toward the exit, her eyes glowing brighter.

The room fell silent as her aura lingered, the temperature seeming to drop. Carmen's thoughts burned with fury as she stepped outside. Someone dared to target Ethan, the only man she had ever loved—her one and only soulmate.

Her lips curled into a cold smile beneath her veil. "Unacceptable," she murmured.

Whoever was behind this would pay dearly. Not just with regret. But with their lives.