Ancestral Lineage

Trevor, Lamair, and Seraphina crashed through the battlefield, their bodies carving deep trenches in the shattered earth. Dust and debris rose in thick clouds, but before they could settle, the air trembled with power.

The three of them stood up. Slowly. Painfully. But they stood.

Trevor wiped the blood from his lips, his eyes burning like molten stars. Lamair rolled his shoulders, his missing arm fully regenerated, his death aura crackling with intensity. Seraphina's hair flared wide, her body mending itself with waves of radiant energy.

Luciel watched, his expression unreadable, but there was the faintest glimmer of something in his eyes. Annoyance? Interest?

Trevor exhaled, his breath coming out in thick, red mist. "Again."

He didn't wait for the others. He surged forward, a blur of crimson light. The tattoos on his body pulsed wildly as his blood magic erupted, forming hundreds of crimson lances that shot toward Luciel at blinding speed.

Luciel flicked a hand. The wind howled, swatting the lances aside like mere dust. But Trevor was already in front of him, a blood-forged scythe in his hands, swinging down with earth-shattering force.

Luciel raised an arm to block.

The moment the blade made contact, the air cracked.

The wind that had always obeyed Luciel trembled—hesitated.

The force of the strike sent him skidding back for the first time. Not by much. But it was enough.

Trevor grinned.

Seraphina appeared above Luciel in an instant, a glyph of golden light burning in her palm. She slammed it down, and the very concept of reality twisted as her magic surged.

The space around Luciel bent inward, trying to compress and bind him.

Luciel narrowed his eyes.

He flicked two fingers.

A pulse of wind exploded from his body, shattering the golden glyph into pieces. But the moment he did, the shadows behind him deepened unnaturally—Lamair struck.

The Death Primogenitor emerged from the darkness itself, all four hands forming eldritch sigils.

"Die."

A purple glow burned in his third eye. A wave of pure annihilation spread outward, a force that did not attack the body, but the very existence of its target. The wind around Luciel withered.

Luciel clicked his tongue.

He twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the worst of the attack, but a single strand of his silver hair turned black, then crumbled into dust.

Luciel frowned.

Trevor, Seraphina, and Lamair lunged at him again, their attacks synchronized, pushing him back for the first time.

Luciel's smirk returned.

"You've grown," he admitted.

Then, the air exploded.

A hurricane of compressed wind detonated outward, hurling the three of them away once more. Lamair barely managed to anchor himself with necrotic energy. Seraphina conjured golden wings of pure creation to soften the blow. Trevor simply tanked it, dragging his claws into the ground to slow his momentum.

And then—

A new presence entered the battlefield.

Luciel's sharp eyes flicked to the side.

The earth trembled beneath steady, confident steps. The ground cracked and reshaped itself as if bowing to her presence.

A woman approached, her red fur coat billowing in the wind, her purple eyes gleaming like twin amethysts. She carried a red spear, its jagged edges glowing with an ominous light.

She stopped beside Trevor, resting Nyxfang against her shoulder.

Madeleine smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "You look like you could use some help, baby boy."

Trevor exhaled, his body still burning from the last exchange. He gave her a sidelong glance. "Took your time."

She rolled her shoulders. "Had to make an entrance."

Luciel observed her with mild interest. "And who might you be?"

Madeleine twirled her spear once, the air distorting around its tip. "Someone who's about to shove this through your chest."

Luciel chuckled. "Confident."

She blurred.

The earth shattered where she once stood. A sonic boom cracked the air as she appeared before Luciel, thrusting Nyxfang forward. The spear sang as it moved, vibrating with a destructive energy that threatened to tear the very fabric of reality.

Luciel dodged.

Barely.

The tip of Nyxfang grazed his cheek. The space where it passed rippled, like water in a disturbed pond.

Luciel's eyes narrowed. "Destruction magic."

Madeleine grinned. "Got it in one."

The earth beneath them surged upward as she stomped her foot, sending jagged pillars of blackened stone at Luciel.

Luciel twisted through the air, weaving between the attacks like the wind itself. But before he could counter, Trevor was on him again, blood-drenched fists swinging.

Luciel deflected the first strike. The second he dodged. The third—

Madeleine was there.

Nyxfang carved through the air, forcing him to lean back just in time for Lamair to release another wave of death.

Luciel's smirk faded.

For the first time, he felt it—pressure.

Seraphina reappeared, her divine light blinding as she conjured chains of pure creation, wrapping them around the battlefield to limit his movement.

Trevor struck from the front. Madeleine from the side. Lamair's death magic loomed behind him.

Luciel finally exhaled.

"Enough."

The world froze.

In less than a heartbeat, Luciel vanished.

Trevor blinked. Then he felt it. A crushing force against his stomach—he was gone in the next second, sent flying beyond sight.

Lamair's death aura collapsed as wind spears impaled him from multiple directions, pinning him to the ground.

Seraphina's divine chains shattered before they could tighten, a single gust of wind cutting through them like paper.

Madeleine was the last standing.

Luciel appeared before her, his face calm, unreadable.

She swung Nyxfang.

He caught it. With his bare hand.

A deafening silence followed.

Luciel looked down at the spear in his grasp, fingers wrapped around its glowing, destructive edge. The skin on his palm sizzled slightly, a thin trail of blood forming—but that was all.

Madeleine's eyes widened.

Luciel tilted his head. "Not bad."

Then he moved.

A knee slammed into her gut, lifting her off the ground. The wind wrapped around her, twisting—before she was launched back, crashing into the ruins alongside the others.

Luciel exhaled. He examined his hand, watching as the small wound on his palm slowly stopped bleeding.

"Entertaining," he murmured.

He turned his gaze toward the wreckage where his enemies lay, their bodies battered but still alive.

"But not enough."