Ancestral Lineage

A massive purple portal loomed over Veryan City, its sheer size dominating the skyline. Even from miles away, its overwhelming presence could be seen—a gaping tear in reality, swirling with energy so dense it made the very air tremble. Sparks of raw power arced across its surface, illuminating the surroundings with an eerie glow. The portal pulsed like a living thing, exuding a pressure that sent ripples through the sky.

Yet, despite the portal's intimidating presence, the true spectacle lay in the two colossal beasts stepping into it.

Angitia, her massive red-scaled body sleek and glistening, slithered through first. Her crystalline horns shimmered under the distorted light of the portal, and her black eyes reflected the depths of an ancient, unreadable wisdom. She moved with effortless grace, each movement exuding power and confidence, as though nothing in this world or the next could ever truly threaten her.

Behind her, Galeno followed, his colossal shell adorned with intricate golden runes that pulsed faintly with divine energy. The weight of his presence alone felt like an immovable force—a silent, watchful guardian that carried both the scars of time and the unshakable patience of eternity. His deep, golden eyes remained steady, unreadable, as he carried Jerry and Reginald upon his broad shell.

The two men sat in silence as Galeno carried them into the portal, their expressions grim. Their mission in Veryan City was over.

But the outcome…

It was far from a victory.

Despite their efforts, despite the battles they had fought, they had failed. The sheer destruction left in the wake of the Blade Clan's actions was irreversible. More than seventy-five percent of the city's inhabitants had been wiped out—men, women, children, the elderly. The Blade Clan's cruelty knew no bounds. And worst of all, they hadn't even managed to completely purge them from the city. Some had escaped. Some still lingered in the shadows. And given time, they would return.

As Galeno's massive form passed through the portal, the weight of failure sat heavily upon both warriors.

Reginald finally broke the silence, his voice calm yet firm.

"Relax. He will be safe. He's under Ethan's protection after all."

His words were meant to be reassuring, but Jerry didn't respond right away. He sat still, his expression unreadable, his mismatched eyes fixed on something distant—something beyond the portal, beyond the city, beyond even the present moment.

Finally, he let out a quiet sigh.

"I know," Jerry muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I wish he was beside me. It's been so long since I last saw Thomas."

Reginald didn't press further. He understood.

Thomas.

Jerry's younger brother.

The only family he had left.

They had been orphans, forced to survive together in a world that had never shown them kindness. They had fought together, suffered together, endured together. And now, after everything, they were separated. Not by choice, but by necessity.

Ethan had personally arranged for Thomas to join the Steils, believing it was the best path for him. And logically, Jerry knew Ethan was right. He knew Thomas would be safe, that he would grow stronger, that he would be given a future that neither of them had ever thought possible.

But logic couldn't silence the gnawing ache in his heart.

Thomas was more than just his brother. He was his only connection to the past, his anchor, his reason to keep fighting. And now, with the weight of the mission's failure pressing down on him, the exhaustion creeping into his bones, all he wanted was to see his brother again.

To know that he was safe.

To know that he was still alive.

Jerry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair before closing his eyes.

'Thomas… I'm counting on your awakening.'

The words echoed in his mind, more than just a thought—a prayer.

As the portal swallowed them whole, Jerry allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability.

A moment of rest.

...

Back in the grand hall of the Smith Clan, Ethan's inauguration as the new Patriarch was underway. The chamber, vast and majestic, was illuminated by the soft glow of enchanted lanterns lining the towering obsidian pillars. The air was thick with anticipation, reverence, and an undeniable sense of change.

At the center of it all, Vlad, the former Patriarch, stood tall and imposing. His expression was unreadable, yet his every movement carried the weight of centuries of leadership. In his hands, he held a regal red cloak, woven with intricate golden embroidery—designs that traced the ancient history of the Smith Clan. The fabric shimmered under the flickering light, and at its center was the clan's revered symbol: a dwarf and a vampire intertwined, signifying unity between their legacies.

With solemn grace, Vlad stepped forward, carefully draping the cloak over Ethan's shoulders. The heavy fabric settled upon him like the weight of a dynasty itself. Then, with steady hands, he lifted a small golden crown, its delicate engravings depicting the victories and hardships of the clan and gently placed it atop Ethan's head.

The hall fell into hushed silence.

Then, in a voice that carried both authority and finality, Vlad spoke.

"As the former Patriarch of the Smith Clan, I hereby pass the mantle of leadership to you. From this day forth, you are the Patriarch of our clan, the pillar upon which our future shall stand."

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His gaze swept across the gathered members of the clan, his deep voice reverberating through the hall.

"Worship your Patriarch—Ethan Kael'Dri Smith!"

A thunderous chorus erupted as the members of the Smith Clan knelt in unison, their fists thudding against their chests in salute. Voices rose in unified chants of allegiance, their devotion shaking the very walls of the hall.

And at the center of it all stood Ethan, now the undisputed leader of the Smith Clan.

Then...

Ding!

A familiar chime echoed in Ethan's mind, cutting through the cheers and chants of his newly devoted clan members. His vision flickered for a moment as translucent blue screens materialized before him, their glow contrasting against the dimly lit hall.

Congratulations, Host!

Quest Completed!

Objective: Become the Patriarch of the Smith Clan.

[Status: Accomplished]

New Quest Initiated!

Find the Sloth Demon.

Clue:

A Sloth Demon has been identified in the vicinity.

Time Limit: None

Reward: Unknown

Penalty: Unknown

Ethan's golden eyes flickered as he scanned the system's notifications. A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. The timing was impeccable—barely moments after assuming his new role, the system had already set his next course.

His gaze lifted, sweeping across the hall filled with kneeling clan members, their heads bowed in reverence. They had no idea what had just happened, no inkling of the unseen force guiding his path.

A Sloth Demon… here?

His fingers curled slightly, but his expression remained composed, regal. This was no coincidence. His ascension to Patriarch, the lurking presence of a demon, and the system's guidance—it was all connected.

His smirk widened ever so slightly.

'Let's see where this takes me.'

...

As the echoes of celebration filled the Smith Clan Hall, a strange chill ran down Elaine's spine. She stood among the gathered clan members, her green hair cascading over her shoulders as she clutched her tattered dress. The room was filled with the rhythmic chants of Ethan's name, yet the noise around her seemed to fade into a dull hum.

Something was wrong.

A deep, unsettling sensation pooled in her chest, like a warning whispering from the depths of her soul. It wasn't fear—no, it was something deeper. Something more ancient.

Her breath hitched. The torches lining the hall flickered, their warm glow momentarily dimming. And then—

Darkness.

The world around her vanished in an instant. The grand hall, the crowd, the celebration—gone.

Elaine's body tensed as she found herself standing in an unfamiliar void. The air was thick, heavy with an oppressive silence that made her ears ring. A strange pressure weighed down on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The ground beneath her was smooth yet indistinct, as though it wasn't truly there. Wisps of shadow coiled around her ankles, shifting and writhing like living things. The void stretched endlessly in every direction, swallowing light and sound alike.

And then—

A presence.

It wasn't something she saw at first. No, she felt it. A force so overwhelming that it sent shivers down her spine. It was neither hostile nor kind, merely... watching.

Her gaze snapped forward as a pair of piercing golden eyes emerged from the abyss. They burned with an intensity that made her breath hitch, their glow stark against the surrounding darkness. There was something ancient in them, something unfathomable, as if they belonged to a being that had seen the rise and fall of countless civilizations.

Elaine tried to speak, but her voice failed her. She could only stare, frozen in place.

Then, the eyes blinked.

And just like that—

She was back.

The roar of the hall crashed over her like a tidal wave. The warmth of the torches returned, the scent of wine and incense filling her lungs once more. She staggered, her knees nearly giving way. The goblet in her hands trembled, wine sloshing over the edge.

'Elaine?'

A voice said in her mind.

Her head snapped up, meeting Ethan's golden gaze. He was watching her, his expression unreadable, but she knew he had noticed.

Her heart pounded in her chest. That vision... it wasn't just a dream. It was a warning. A glimpse into something beyond comprehension.

And Ethan knew it too. She was the Sloth Demon.