Ancestral Lineage - Chapter 286

Chapter 286: Finally!
“Mother? Zark?” Trevor called again, knocking harder now. There was still no response.

A flicker of worry crept into his voice as he raised his hand. “Alright, I’m coming in!” he warned, preparing to break the door down.

“W–wait! I’m f–fine! Yes, I’m fine!” Madeleine’s flustered voice rang out, halting his next move.

Trevor paused, eyebrow twitching with amusement. “Are you sure?” he asked, masking the genuine concern beneath a growing, mischievous grin.

He couldn’t help himself. ‘Yo bro… guess what,’ Trevor said telepathically, a gleeful gleam in his thoughts as he pinged Ethan’s consciousness.

…

In the quiet sanctum of cultivation, Ethan’s eyes fluttered open, glowing with a serene golden light. The sacred Grimoire of Order hovered before him, bathed in refulgent radiance.

A familiar smirk curled his lips as he replied in his mind, ‘Zark kicked your ass?’

‘Fuck you, man!’ came Trevor’s immediate, indignant response.

Ethan chuckled mentally. ‘Alright, alright. What is it?’

Trevor’s voice in his head was a blend of excitement and disbelief. ‘Zark actually made the first move.’

Ethan blinked. ‘Wait… you can’t be serious.’

‘I swear on everything sacred. He talked to her, opened up and everything. She didn’t kill him, Ethan!’

‘Damn…’ Ethan sat up, his smirk broadening. ‘It’s finally happening. I’m coming!’

‘Don’t you dare ruin this!’ Trevor snapped internally. ‘We need to let it simmer.’

‘Trevor, it’s Zark and Mom. Simmering doesn’t work. They’ll explode or implode.’

‘All the more reason to keep the pressure low!’

Ethan was already getting to his feet. ‘Too late. This I gotta see.’

Back at the door, Trevor shook his head with a sigh. “Great. Now we’re all involved,” he muttered aloud.

Inside the room, Madeleine glanced toward the door, then back at Zark. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed, though her eyes held less chaos than before. Zark, for his part, was quietly smoothing his jacket, as if he hadn’t just been accused, attacked, and emotionally dissected by a fiery woman moments earlier.

Outside, Trevor rubbed his temples. “This family needs a therapist,” he whispered to himself before taking a seat outside the door. “Or five.”

The soft thrum of air pulsing from a teleport sigil rippled through the hallway just as Trevor sat down with a huff. A flash of golden light followed — elegant, commanding, yet far more familiar than divine.

Ethan materialized.

He looked… too composed, Trevor thought irritably. Golden robes lazily wrapped around his lean form, tousled hair still damp from a recent cleansing, and his aura — damn him — perfectly balanced. Regal and casual. As if he hadn’t just been mentally sprinting across half the mansion after being in a coma for decades.

Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You really had to flex the golden glow?”

Ethan smiled. “It’s called an entrance, little brother.”

“You’re three minutes older than I.”

“Which still makes me older.” He patted Trevor’s head, knowing exactly how to annoy him. Then, eyes narrowing, he turned toward the sealed door.

His voice lowered.

“They’re talking?”

“Arguing. Then talking. Now… flirting, I think.”

Ethan’s expression cracked. “Zark is flirting? With Mother?”

“Right? She called him a virgin. He didn’t deny it.”

Ethan blinked. “…Oh Ancients, it really happened.”

Trevor nodded. “And she punched him. Almost broke the floor.”

“I should’ve been here sooner.”

“No. We’ve already meddled enough. I mean it — she’s been in a spiral since you went under. Seeing her laugh again, even if it was to insult a literal god? Worth it.”

They paused together, both silently staring at the door as muffled voices continued inside. No screaming. No sobbing. No destruction.

Just voices.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Ethan said quietly. “She’s letting someone in again.”

Trevor’s smirk softened. “Took an interdimensional god-thing with tragic eyes and silky hair to do it, but hey. We’ll take what we get.”

Ethan snorted.

Then, the sound of footsteps made them both freeze. The door creaked open.

Standing there was Madeleine, disheveled but alive — in her eyes, in her posture, in the way she looked at them. Not like the shattered shell they’d seen before.

Behind her stood Zark, arms loosely folded behind his back, face unreadable but eyes glowing softly.

“Boys,” Madeleine said, voice calm but a touch hoarse. “We’re… talking.”

Ethan and Trevor exchanged a glance, subtle grins flickering across their faces.

“Yes, Mother,” they said in unison.

She rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile betrayed her pride. “Go. Before I remember how much trouble you two cause.”

Trevor gave a mock salute while Ethan bowed dramatically.

As they walked off, Ethan leaned toward his brother and whispered, “If they kiss, I’m cleansing the house with holy fire.”

Trevor nodded solemnly. “And if they marry, I’m moving out.”

“I’ll build you a temple in the mountains.”

“You’re a real one.”

Behind them, the door quietly clicked shut, and the mansion, for the first time in years, began to feel like home again.

…

The door clicked shut behind them.

Silence followed.

Zark’s eyes lingered on the wood a moment longer, as if ensuring Ethan and Trevor were truly gone. Then he turned back toward Madeleine — not as a godlike being, not as an Emissary of impossible power — but simply as a man unsure of what to say next.

She sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed but not tense, her gaze lowered to her bare feet on the floor.

Zark remained standing.

“You didn’t have to protect me from them,” she said softly. “I’m not some fragile thing.”

“I know that,” he replied.

Her eyes flicked up, sharp like green blades. “Then why?”

Zark took a deep breath — or the closest approximation of one. His body didn’t need air, but it had learned to mimic such gestures. “Because I’m learning,” he said, “that protecting someone doesn’t always mean shielding them from battle or pain. Sometimes, it’s simply letting them breathe.”

He stepped forward, slow, deliberate.

“From the moment I was created, I was thrown into conflict. Civilizations fell while I stood still. Stars collapsed beside me. I was built to serve, fight, and obey. I watched worlds die, Madeleine. Watched, not because I wanted to, but because I was never allowed to be anything else.”

She looked at him — truly looked — and for once, the strength that made him so alien also made him… familiar. It was the same strength she saw in herself when she broke, and still stood. The same in Ethan when he bore the burden of his bloodline. In Trevor, when he smiled through pain.

Zark exhaled slowly. “I have never loved anyone, because I have never had the space to. No time, no permission, no… self.”

“And now?” she asked.

“I want to try.”

Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.

Zark didn’t move closer. He didn’t need to. His voice carried all the weight of eternity wrapped in a single hope.

“I want to know what it means to be wanted, not because of what I can destroy, or save, or resurrect. Just… wanted.”

Madeleine felt something tremble in her chest. The part of her that had been buried since Ethan’s coma. Since Trevor’s rebirth. Since her own world had tilted and shattered again and again.

She rose slowly, walking toward him.

“And you think I can give you that?”

“No,” he said honestly. “But I think you’re the only one I want to try with.”

A beat of silence.

Then she whispered, “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m told that often.”

“I’m still furious with you.”

“I’m patient.”

“I’m… scared.”

“So am I.”

And just like that, two timeless, broken beings stood face to face — no longer god and warrior, no longer myths in a saga — but simply two hearts, bruised and burning quietly.

Madeleine reached out, fingertips brushing his. Not a kiss. Not yet.

But a beginning.

…

Trevor leaned back against the hallway wall outside his mother’s room, arms crossed, trying to mask the strange mix of emotions in his chest. Amusement, confusion, and something bordering on protectiveness.

Ethan appeared beside him a second later, golden light still shimmering faintly from his eyes as the residual energy of cultivation clung to his form like a second skin.

“She’s okay,” Trevor said first, nodding toward the door.

“I know,” Ethan replied, his gaze unreadable. “I felt the moment her aura stabilized. Whatever Zark said… it worked.”

Trevor gave a small snort. “You mean, ‘whatever Zark did.’ There’s a difference.”

Ethan gave him a sidelong look. “You’re saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m saying the old man finally decided to act less like a cosmic observer and more like an actual—” Trevor made air quotes, “—father figure.”

Ethan’s lips twitched. “And you’re okay with that?”

Trevor shrugged, but it lacked his usual bravado. “I don’t know, man. It’s weird. He’s strong. Too strong. He’s basically the embodiment of everything I thought I had to become one day. Unreachable. Cold. Eternal.”

“But he’s not,” Ethan said, almost to himself.

Trevor nodded slowly. “Yeah. Turns out he’s a socially awkward immortal virgin who just wants to be part of a family.”

That earned a laugh from Ethan — full, warm, genuine. “You’re a menace.”

Trevor smirked. “I get it from Mom.”

They both turned their gazes to the door once more, the silence between them comfortable.

“Do you think she’ll be happy?” Trevor asked, voice lower now, more vulnerable.

Ethan took a moment. “I think she might finally get to rest, even if just a little.”

Trevor closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “Good. She deserves it.”

Then, after a pause, Ethan said with a smile, “You know, if this goes anywhere serious… that means Zark’s technically your dad now.”

Trevor’s face twisted with mock horror. “Don’t you dare finish that thought.”

Ethan grinned. “Too late. You’ll have to call him ‘Dad’ one day.”

Trevor pointed a finger threateningly. “Say ‘pops’ and I’m throwing you into the Void Gate.”

They both laughed, shoulders brushing as they walked down the hallway together, their burdens feeling a little lighter — not because the world had changed, but because they finally weren’t carrying it alone anymore.