Ancestral Lineage

The grand war council convened in the heart of Ethan's domain, a massive chamber with a towering obsidian table at its center. The air was thick with tension as the most powerful figures in the Smiths' faction gathered, their expressions grim.

Ethan's wives, Trevor and his wives, Lamair and his wives, the eight great families, Jerry, Reginald, Seraphina, and the main commanders, Vlad and Madeleine, all sat in solemn contemplation. Their gazes flickered toward the most fearsome presence in the room—Barki, the Dragon Monarch.

The true dragon sat beside Lisa, her predatory orange eyes scanning the council members. Most were visibly shaken, their bodies stiff from the sheer pressure of her aura. This was the first time many had seen a true dragon, a monarch no less, up close. Not a half-breed, not a lesser drake—but one of the sovereign rulers of the draconic race.

Even for seasoned warriors, this was an experience that tested their courage.

Vlad, his normally composed demeanor faltering, spoke first. "We've been tracking the disturbances, but it's like chasing a ghost. No footprints, no energy remnants… as if it never happened."

Seraphina's white eyes narrowed. "That level of concealment is unheard of. It means whoever is behind this isn't just powerful, but incredibly skilled in erasing their presence."

Trevor exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in his crimson gaze. "I tried tracing their identity using the blood of the victims. The only thing I saw was silver eyes. That's all. No face, no aura, just those damn eyes staring back at me."

Silence fell upon the room.

Silver eyes.

A sign of something ancient. Something… primal.

"A Primogenitor," Trevor finally declared, his voice grim.

A ripple of unease spread across the chamber.

A Primogenitor. One of the first. The original beings from whom entire races had descended. Entities that stood on the threshold between myth and reality.

Seraphina folded her arms, her voice steady but filled with caution. "If this Primogenitor is as strong as we suspect, then they are at least at the Saint Realm… possibly higher. None of us here can fight them directly."

Her gaze shifted toward Barki, the only being in the room whose existence defied conventional power.

"Except for the Dragon Monarch."

All eyes turned to Barki.

Yet, for the first time since the meeting began, the mighty dragon's expression shifted—no longer one of indifference or superiority, but something almost… helpless.

"I can't."

A ripple of shock passed through the room.

Lisa, the one closest to Barki, frowned. "What do you mean, sister?"

Barki's golden eyes dimmed slightly, a rare flicker of hesitation crossing her face. "I cannot fight them."

"Why?" Trevor pressed, his tone sharp.

Barki inhaled slowly before answering. "Because it is against the Draconic Code to engage a Primogenitor in battle."

That statement sent a wave of confusion through the room.

Lamair narrowed his eyes. "And why is that?"

Barki turned to face him fully. "Because the Primogenitors are the origins of their respective races—including the Dragon Emperor. This law is not just written in words; it is engraved into our very souls, our existence. If I were to break it, I would not simply be punished…"

She exhaled deeply, her voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I would cease to exist."

A sharp, heavy silence filled the chamber.

"And that…" Barki continued, "would cause more harm than good. Ethan's bond with me is not something that can be severed without consequences. If I perish, it will backlash onto him. It could kill him—or worse."

Lisa's fists clenched. "So you can't help at all?"

Barki shook her head. "I can help."

She leaned forward, her voice regaining its usual steel. "If I wished, I could end this war with a mere snap of my fingers. I could reduce cities to dust and turn battlefields into wastelands. But when it comes to the Primogenitor… that is a battle you must fight yourselves."

The room fell into a deep silence once more.

The war itself could be won in an instant.

But the real enemy—the Primogenitor—was theirs to face alone.

The room remained tense as the discussion stretched on, each leader weighing in on the unfolding crisis. The presence of a Primogenitor was not something to take lightly, and the council members were keenly aware that they might be dealing with a force beyond their current capabilities.

"We need to set our priorities straight," Vlad said, his voice steady but firm. "The war is dragging on, and while we've gained the upper hand, it's costing us resources and time—time we don't have if a Primogenitor is moving in the shadows."

"We've already lost key intelligence officers," Madeleine added, her violet eyes sharp. "We can't afford to waste any more lives tracking a ghost. We need an immediate solution."

"That solution is right here," Clara said, nodding towards Barki. "She just said she can end the war for us in an instant."

A heavy silence fell over the table before Lord Verna cleared his throat. "Ending a war that easily… what would be the cost?"

Barki leaned forward, resting her clawed fingers on the table. "The cost is simple—your enemies will no longer exist." Her orange draconic eyes scanned the room, daring anyone to challenge her words. "But the real price is that once I intervene, the balance will shift drastically. My presence alone will deter certain forces, but it will also attract others. The Primogenitor we're dealing with may decide to move sooner rather than later."

"Then it's settled," Vlad stated. "Barki will finish the war while we use that time to prepare for the bigger battle ahead."

"That means it's on us," Trevor muttered, rubbing his temples. "Lamair, Seraphina, and I are the only Primogenitors here. If we don't step up, we're screwed."

Seraphina sighed. "I've been trying to track them using divination, but their power is layered in a way I can't break through. It's ancient… maybe even older than us."

Lamair nodded. "Then we should assume the worst. This isn't a fight we can take lightly. We'll need to push beyond our limits before we face them."

"And if you three fail?" Lord Tennyson asked bluntly.

"Then there is no plan B," Amor said grimly. "If our strongest fall, nothing will stop this entity from doing whatever it wants. Unless Ethan arrives in time, that is."

A heavy silence followed.

"Then we don't fail," Vlad said at last, his red eyes flashing with determination. "This council isn't just here to talk. We've built something too strong to let it crumble now. We face this thing head-on."

"And I'll make sure you have the time you need," Barki affirmed.

With the decision made, the war council adjourned. The real battle was yet to come.

...

As the council dispersed, tension still clung to the air like a storm on the horizon. Plans had been made, but the weight of what was to come remained heavy on their shoulders.

Vlad lingered, his hands pressed against the war table, red eyes narrowed as he calculated the possibilities. A Primogenitor was not an opponent they could take lightly, even with Trevor, Seraphina, and Lamair preparing for the fight. After all, they were newly born Primogenitors unlike the one they were about to face.

"Something feels off," he muttered to himself.

A cold breeze swept through the chamber, unnatural in its stillness. The light from the bulbs flickered violently, and the air suddenly carried the scent of rain and iron.

Lisa, who had been about to leave, stiffened. "Did anyone else feel that?"

Before anyone could respond, a faint sound filled the room—a whisper, like wind slipping through cracks in reality.

Then—

BOOM!

A massive gust of wind burst through the chamber doors, slamming them open with such force that the heavy iron hinges groaned. Papers and maps scattered into the air like feathers in a storm.

A figure stood at the entrance, cloaked in silver mist, the air around them warping unnaturally. They wore a tattered, flowing black robe, and from beneath the hood, two piercing silver eyes gleamed—cold, unfeeling, ancient.

The room froze.

Trevor's hand twitched, but something stopped him. His blood magic screamed in warning. Danger.

"Barki," Vlad said, his voice like steel, "get ready."

But Barki, the mighty Dragon Monarch, stood motionless. Her expression was unreadable, but her orange eyes flickered with something unfamiliar—hesitation.

"You," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The figure tilted their head. "It has been a long time, Monarch." Their voice was neither male nor female, carrying a strange, otherworldly resonance that made the air hum.

Trevor stepped forward. "And you are?"

The figure's silver eyes bore into him as if searching through his soul. Then they spoke, their words carrying a weight that sent chills down every spine in the room.

"I am the Wind."

A pause.

Trevor clenched his fists. "So you're the Primogenitor."

The figure chuckled, a hollow, whispering sound. "One of them."

The tension snapped.

Trevor's blood magic surged, his crimson eyes darkening. Lamair's necromancy magic rippled, and Seraphina's white eyes shone with celestial energy.

But the figure remained still. Unmoved. Untouched.

Then—

They raised a single hand.

WHOOSH!

The room exploded into chaos.

The wind howled like a screaming beast, slamming into everyone with enough force to shatter bones. Vlad barely had time to react before he was flung backward, crashing through the stone wall and into the open night sky.

The last thing he saw before he plummeted was the figure stepping forward, silver eyes glinting like the edge of a blade.

The Wind had arrived.