Ancestral Lineage - Chapter 277

Chapter 277: The Saint Realm. Divine Power

What is a Saint?

What truly is the Saint Realm?

Is it divinity—the birth of a god?

Or merely the highest peak of mortal cultivation?

Is it the end of a long road, or just a gate to something greater?

And if so… then what are the gods?

These questions churned in Ethan’s mind as he sat cross-legged, focusing inward. The frigid mountain winds whipped around him, but his concentration was absolute. Ever since awakening from his decades-long coma, he’d barely had a moment of peace to reconnect with his cultivation. The world had changed. He had changed. Yet the path forward felt more obscure than ever.

He had awakened directly into the Saint Realm—but he knew next to nothing about what it meant. Even in his battle against Luciel, a fellow Saint, he’d fought more on instinct and rage than understanding. And now, with the Path nearly 60% opened, his Spirit Beasts still slumbering—save for Angitia, now evolved into Athelia, his betrothed—he felt the vast ocean of his identity still largely undiscovered. His title as Primogenitor, his blood, his destiny—so much was shrouded, so much he should know… but didn’t.

And where was he supposed to start?

Zark’s sudden reappearance hadn’t helped. Introducing him had led to waves Ethan didn’t fully anticipate. He thought it would be a reunion—one filled with mystery, sure, but at least bearable. Instead, it shook everyone around him.

His mother had secluded herself in silent grief or perhaps confusion, locking herself away, refusing to speak or emerge. Trevor—usually unshakeable—was internally fragmented, struggling to reconcile that the being who once served as Ethan’s system guide, teacher, and guiding will… was now revealed to be their father. In flesh. In blood. Real.

And the others? They didn’t trust Zark. Not yet. They viewed him as a potential enemy, a trickster entity playing some grand game—even with Ethan’s endorsement.

But Ethan believed they would come around. Eventually. Time healed many wounds. And truth—even uncomfortable truth—always found its way to light.

For now, though, Ethan turned inward.

Because if no one else could help him understand the Saint Realm, then he would have to find the answers himself. Starting with the one truth every cultivator and legend feared or longed for—

What comes after Saint?

“You’ve come a long way, darling… but everything’s been a rush,” a soft, serene voice echoed above him.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open. “Barki?” he said, startled.

The figure hovered beside him, graceful as ever—Barki, his dragon wife, her presence calming, yet piercing in its clarity.

“How has it been going?” she asked gently.

“Painfully slow… and unrewarding,” Ethan admitted, lowering his gaze.

“Just as expected,” she responded without hesitation.

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, but there was a flicker of sternness behind her words. “Honey, you are weak. No offense there—but you’re weak.”

Ethan frowned. “I don’t get you. You always said I was powerful.”

“You are,” she nodded. “But you’re also fragile in the ways that matter now. You possess might, yes—vast, frightening even—but you don’t yet grasp the nature of it. You don’t understand the depth of the blood that flows in you, nor the systems binding you, nor what you’ve truly become.”

She hovered closer, her tone lowering.

“You are not just some ancestor of dwarves and vampires, Ethan. You are not merely a Primogenitor. You are not just another child of legend. You are a being who can bend threads of destiny… twist the angles of fate. A being with Divinity brewing in his veins. One with the potential for godhood—and yet still walking in ignorance of it.”

Ethan’s breath caught in his throat. “But… how do I comprehend all this? How do I accept something I can’t even see clearly?”

“You don’t need to comprehend it all at once,” Barki said, touching his shoulder with surprising warmth. “You just need to take the first step. You need to accept who you are, truly and deeply. Not as the boy who woke from a coma… but as the force that woke the world.”

She gave a faint, fond smile.

“That’s why I’m here. That’s why your father—yes, as you’ve now claimed him—is here. Not everyone may be ready to guide you. Not all can. But you’ve got us. You’ve got me. And I will never let you be lost again.”

“You still don’t believe him, I suppose?” Ethan asked softly, watching Barki’s eyes.

“That’s not what’s important now, babe,” Barki said with a weak smile. “What’s important is you.”

Her eyes softened. “Can you help me?” he asked.

“I will always help you, my love,” she said, leaning closer and brushing his cheek gently.

“Thank you.”

She pulled back just slightly, her expression shifting to something more focused—serious, yet nurturing.

“Now… for your first lesson, you need to understand the basics of power—or more precisely, your power.”

“How?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Simple,” she replied. “We need to seal some things away, for now.”

Ethan’s body tensed. “Wai—”

But it was too late.

A soft surge of power burst from Barki’s open palm—a radiant draconic rune formation, at once ancient and simple, spiraled into existence. It glowed with hues of silver and cerulean, ethereal and divine.

In a flash, five identical runes appeared, burning briefly before settling into his skin: one on his forehead, one on his chest, one on each wrist, and one across his stomach.

Ethan gasped, swaying slightly.

“I’ve sealed your power as a Primogenitor, your Sync ability, and your Path,” Barki said calmly, watching the runes settle. “What remains is your Saint Realm cultivation and your true origin—what now manifests as the Grimoire of Origin. These two—your Saint power and your connection to the System—are tightly intertwined.”

Her gaze grew intense, filled with something ancient.

“These are what you must understand first. Once you do, the rest will come naturally. The other aspects—your bloodlines, your divine affinities, your Path—all of it will awaken in due time. But if you tried to understand them all right now, it would shatter you. You’d break yourself apart.”

Ethan nodded slowly, the weight of her words sinking in. “I understand.”

“Good,” Barki said, her voice softening again. “Let’s begin.”

Barki held Ethan’s hand gently, the soft wind around them swirling in rhythm with her calm voice.

“Before we dive deep, let me explain something crucial. The Saint Realm isn’t just a power rank—it’s a transformation. But to truly grasp what it is, we need to walk through the path that led you here. From the beginning.”

She raised her hand, drawing a glowing spiral of symbols into the air—eight tiers pulsing with ancient energy, each more refined than the last.

“You started at the Novice Level—the first breath of power, when you began sensing energy, mana, ki… whichever path you chose at that point. A time of discovery, curiosity, and fumbling in the dark.”

She tapped the next symbol, and it brightened.

“Then came the Advanced Level—where energy became discipline. It was no longer raw; it had to be refined, understood, practiced. You began shaping spells, techniques, control.”

Ethan nodded slowly, watching each symbol flicker to life as she spoke.

“After that, the Warrior Level—your first taste of true battle-readiness. Power stabilized. You could now face threats and stand your ground. You felt confident. But that was still only the surface.”

She touched the fourth glyph.

“The Expert Level. This is where technique, instinct, and energy become unified. You started to comprehend how your power affected the world—and how the world responded.”

“And then… Master Level,” Ethan whispered.

“Yes,” Barki smiled. “Where most mortals dream to reach. A level where the world starts whispering back. Where you feel a pull from higher realms. Your power echoes, and so do your actions.”

She tapped the sixth tier.

“The Grandmaster Level. Here, you stand as a force of nature. Nations may fear you. Your will can bend mana, or laws of the world, to a degree. And you begin to feel limitations… because beyond it is something even more immense.”

Her expression turned solemn as she touched the seventh glyph.

“The Emperor Realm—where your power no longer serves just you. It begins to affect everything around you. You become a pillar. An Empire. Your presence brings order, or chaos. You control laws, phenomena, and even reality around your domain.”

Then finally, her fingers touched the last symbol—a brilliant, blinding glyph pulsing with ethereal energy.

“And then… the Saint Realm.”

Ethan’s breath caught.

“The Saint Realm, Honey, is not just the apex. It is the beginning of something new. The final evolution of mortal cultivation. At this level, your body, mind, and soul begin to harmonize with the universe itself. You do not just wield power—you become power. You are a Law. You are a Principle.”

Ethan’s eyes widened slightly, absorbing every word.

“But the irony is,” she continued, “for the Mortal World, this is the highest you can reach. For them, a Saint is a God. Untouchable. Eternal.”

She paused and lowered her hand, the symbols fading.

“But there are higher Realms, Ethan. Realms that Saints cannot reach unless they ascend beyond mortality. Realms where Gods, True Divinities, and Primordial Beings dwell. Where Concepts walk and where Time and Fate are but tools.”

“And I…” Ethan began.

“You stand at the threshold,” Barki said, placing a hand over his heart. “You are no longer just mortal. You’ve crossed into Saint Realm… and yet, your roots stretch far beyond. Your blood, your soul, your origin—they belong to something older, something deeper.”

“I… I think I get it now. The Saint Realm isn’t the end. It’s just the bridge.”

“Exactly,” she whispered, leaning close. “A bridge between what you were… and what you could become.”