Ancestral Lineage - Chapter 311

Chapter 311: Edge of Thought—Approaching the Stronghold of the E’Sherils
As the laughter settled into lingering chuckles, Ethan’s expression slowly shifted. He rose to his feet, his hair with quiet authority. The lighthearted mood dimmed slightly, the Spirit Beasts picking up on the change immediately. Even Onyx stopped her tail from swatting Maverick and turned toward him, solemn.

“We’ve enjoyed this moment,” Ethan began, his deep voice steady. “But time isn’t something we have the luxury of wasting. Gather around.”

The five Spirit Beasts instinctively formed a semi-circle before him, Galeno gently placing Saareiya on the ground before standing tall. Saareiya remained quiet, sensing the weight of what was coming.

Ethan looked at each of them—Onyx with her mischievous smile, Maverick still itching to say something dramatic, Stygian ever-alert with a flickering flame between his horns, Sage stoic with his wings folded tight, and Galeno with his ancient calm.

Then his gaze locked on the sigils still glowing faintly in the space around them—the afterimage of the invocation he’d used to call them forth.

“We are approaching the next arc,” Ethan said. “And this time… we won’t be fighting alone.”

All five straightened subtly.

“Our enemies are more than just scattered threats or ancient remnants. There’s something—someone—pulling strings. I am sure of it.”

Onyx’s playful tone returned briefly. “We’re hunting again, aren’t we?”

“Yes. It is the tribe of the E’Sherils,” Ethan said, his voice grave. “They have Saareiya’s mother in their custody—kidnapped. As for whether she’s alive or dead… I don’t know. All we can do is hope.”

A heavy silence followed before Stygian broke it. “What exactly are these… Esheep?”

“E’Sherils, dumbass,” Maverick corrected with a snort, arms crossed and chin raised in mock superiority.

“Hmph!” Stygian looked away, but not without a faint twitch of irritation.

“Haha!” Ethan shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes despite the situation. “Grimoire, give us a briefing.”

At his command, the Grimoire of Order shimmered into existence beside him, its golden cover glowing faintly. The book opened on its own, pages rustling with ancient whispers as they flipped rapidly. Then, it stopped, golden script glowing across the page as an illusion formed in the air above it.

A projection appeared: two humanoid beings standing tall, nearly as tall as Sage. Their skin was a deep crimson, and each possessed four muscular arms and spiked tails. Their eyes were four in total, glowing a bright and unsettling blue. Their heads were hairless, instead crowned with intricate patterns of horned spikes.

One was male, with spikes jutting sharply from his elbows, while the female had hers emerging from her shoulders, curling upward like regal thorns.

The E’Sherils:

An ancient psychic tribe native to the Will Planes of the Beast Plane. The E’Sherils are one of the rare races to naturally wield the power of the mind—Psychic energy—in its purest form. Unlike their sister tribe, the T’Shalari, the E’Sherils do not merely resonate with the Psychic Plane—they command it.

Hierarchy is determined by the number of spikes along their tails. Ten denotes the strongest class, while fewer spikes indicate lower rank and potential.

They follow a strict monarchical system, led by a reigning Queen—always female—whose authority is absolute and whose psychic strength is said to be able to bend will, shatter minds, and silence thought itself.

They are territorial, isolationist, and deeply secretive. Very few have seen an E’Sheril settlement and lived to tell the tale.

The projection dissolved in a shimmer of golden particles, leaving the group in thoughtful silence.

“So… mind-bending psychic warriors ruled by a psycho-queen. That’s just great,” Maverick muttered, cracking his knuckles.

“Fascinating,” Sage murmured. “The spike system… biological caste marks tied to power resonance. That’s extremely rare.”

“Which also means their queen likely has ten,” Galeno said quietly. “She won’t be easy to reach… let alone defeat.”

Ethan looked toward Saareiya, who had gone pale but stood tall, fists clenched. “We’ll get her back,” he said softly. “No matter what it takes.”

“I believe you,” she whispered.

Onyx stepped forward, her voice unusually serious. “Then we should start preparing. The Will Planes aren’t just dangerous—they’re alive. The land reacts to thoughts, emotion, and memories. If we’re not mentally fortified, we’ll lose ourselves before we even reach their gates.”

Ethan nodded. “Then we begin mental resonance training tonight. Galeno, lead the first session. Onyx, reinforce the veil barrier. Stygian, find us a safe route into the Will Planes. We move at dawn.”

The Spirit Beasts dispersed, purpose in their every movement.

War was coming.

But this time—it was personal.

Night fell swiftly, cloaking the world in velvet shadows. The air around Ethan’s camp grew dense—not heavy with threat, but with intention. The Spirit Beasts gathered in a quiet clearing, their humanoid forms lit only by the faint ethereal glow of the resonance circle Galeno had carved into the earth with his clawed fingers.

The circle shimmered gold and deep violet—Order and Will intertwined—anchored by runes pulsing at cardinal points.

Ethan stood at the center. His eyes were closed, breath steady. Around him, the five stood in formation: Onyx, Maverick, Stygian, Sage, and Galeno. Saareiya sat just outside the circle, watching with wide, curious eyes.

Galeno’s voice was soft yet thunderous in presence.”Begin.”

The ground trembled faintly.

In unison, the Spirit Beasts knelt, pressing their palms to the runes. Energy surged through the circle like blood through a living vein. Each spirit channeled their core essence:

Onyx: Pure darkness, fluid and cunning. Her aura whispered in seductive hums, elusive but sharp.

Maverick: Stone and metal, old as the world’s bones. His energy pulsed with silent pride and hardened strength.

Stygian: Necrotic flame, licking reality with cold hunger. His aura was like a storm of sighs and lost voices.

Sage: Sound incarnate—pure, vibrating frequency. His presence echoed like thunder across a canyon.

Galeno: Earth’s memory and the calm of timeless stone. Wisdom flowed from him in silent waves.

Saareiya: Thought and will, although young, but with potential.

Ethan inhaled sharply as their energies met his. Each one tugged at his soul, testing its weight. Testing his will.

“Steady,” Galeno instructed. “Open your mind—but do not lose yourself.”

Ethan focused. The world fell away. Thoughts, names, memories—they scattered, until only presence remained. One by one, the Spirits extended their essence toward him, forming psychic threads, binding them together. It was more than communication—it was resonance, the deepest layer of connection.

Then came the hard part: synchronization.

Their personalities clashed, recoiled, and spiraled in the mindscape Ethan now stood within—a vast, echoing void filled with their colors, sounds, and chaos.

“Let go of dominance,” Galeno’s voice echoed through the void. “Flow with them. You are not their king here—you are their nexus.”

So Ethan did.

He let the weight of his command fall. He surrendered to the tide. Onyx’s mischievous laughter, Maverick’s thunderous pride, Stygian’s cold wrath, Sage’s still thunder, Galeno’s quiet strength, Saareiya’s deep resolve—he accepted them all.

And they accepted him in return.

Suddenly, the void shifted. The scattered colors and voices spiraled inward, forming a great wheel of light and shadow, with Ethan at its axis. The resonance deepened—each heartbeat now echoed with six voices. Ethan and his six Beasts.

“Perfect,” Galeno said aloud. His eyes opened slowly. “We are ready.”

The circle pulsed one final time, then dimmed.

Ethan opened his eyes. They briefly glowed with six faint colors before returning to normal.

Saareiya gasped. “That… was incredible.”

“We are now psychically anchored to Ethan,” Sage explained. “As long as the resonance holds, our minds cannot be tampered with—not even by the E’Sherils.”

“Unless they find a way to sever the tether,” Stygian added grimly.

“We’ll make sure they don’t,” Maverick said, cracking his neck. “I’m itching to crack some spike-heads.”

Onyx smirked. “You’re always itching for something.”

Ethan stepped out of the circle, his gaze calm and sharp. “Tomorrow… we move into the Obsidian Groves. Tonight, rest. Tomorrow, we fight through thought itself.”

…

The Will Planes twisted around them like a surreal dreamscape. Landscapes shifted subtly with emotion, light bent in strange ways, and thoughts sometimes echoed as whispers in the wind.

Their camp stood at the edge of a massive ravine—one that hadn’t been there the day before.

Galeno stood at the cliff’s edge, golden eyes narrowed. “We’re close. I can feel the resonance of their collective mind—like a drumbeat through the stone.”

Maverick tilted his head. “You mean their creepy little hive-thought thing?”

“Not hive,” Sage corrected. “Resonant unison. A focused psychic field—very different… and very dangerous.”

Ethan nodded and turned toward the group, the Grimoire of Order floating at his side, runes swirling in anticipation.

“Everyone, gather.”

The Beasts formed a circle around him—Stygian crouched low, tail flicking; Onyx stood with arms crossed, one foot tapping; Galeno remained tall and still as a statue.

Ethan motioned, and the Grimoire shimmered. A projection hovered above it: a sprawling obsidian structure built into the cliffside—the E’Sherils’ stronghold.

Massive, jagged towers rose from the stone like fangs. Psychic barriers shimmered faintly across the walls, and spike-ridden sentinels patrolled the sky in floating meditative stances. Each moved as though in response to some silent music.

“This is where they’re keeping Saareiya’s mother,” Ethan said. “And most likely where their queen sits.”

“Queen Ashtora,” Galeno added. “The last I knew of her, she possessed nine spikes on her tail.”

“Which makes her nearly the strongest in their hierarchy,” Sage followed. “If she’s ascended to ten…”

“She has,” Onyx interrupted. Her tails flicked with agitation. “I felt it. She’s become a Prime Mind. Which means—”

“—she can bend weaker thoughts to her will, rewrite perceptions, and sever psychic tethers with a glance,” Ethan finished grimly.

Stygian cracked his knuckles. “Then let’s burn her down before she even blinks.”

Maverick gave a sharp-toothed grin. “Now you’re talking.”

Ethan raised a hand. “No. We’re not going in blind.”

The Grimoire flickered again, showing three routes:

The Wane Path — a winding canyon flooded with psychic fog that scrambles memory.

The Mirror Climb — a cliff wall laced with mental illusions and fear constructs.

The Mind Gate — the main entrance, heavily fortified but direct.

“Each path comes with risk,” Ethan said. “We’ll need a distraction.”

“I can shatter the illusions along the Mirror Climb,” Sage said. “Sound bends thought.”

“I can manipulate the fog along the Wane Path,” Onyx added. “But it’ll cost me.”

“I can go loud,” Stygian said. “Real loud.”

“No,” Galeno said. “We do not split. That would let them isolate and overwhelm. We must synchronize—resonance is our edge.”

Ethan turned to Saareiya, who stood quietly beside Onyx. “You’ll stay with Galeno and me. I’ll shield your thoughts. But if anything goes wrong, you run. Understood?”

She nodded, visibly tense, but her voice was firm. “I’m not leaving without my mother.”

Ethan gave a soft smile. “Then let’s bring her home.”

He turned back to the others. “We take the Mirror Climb. Fewer sentinels. If we time it right, we’ll hit the stronghold at moonrise—when the psychic pulse is weakest.”

“Then let’s fly,” Maverick said, recalling his wings in a shimmer of light.

One by one, wings unfurled—stone, flame, sound, shadow, and scale. Ethan’s hair billowed in the rising psychic wind.

The Obsidian Groves pulsed.

The descent into madness had begun.