Ancestral Lineage

Chapter 147 Absolute Control + Sync.

As the beast's massive paw descended, Lamair's mind raced, each thought a desperate attempt to grasp at any shred of survival.

No! No! I can't fall like this... wait! I've still got some trump cards. Qirantha...

Time seemed to slow as adrenaline coursed through his veins. His blue eyes flared pink, streaked with hints of purple, as a dark pink symbol—the shape of a puppet dangling from strings—etched itself onto his forehead.

Qirantha, who had been buried beneath the rubble, dissolved into shimmering pink energy. The spider spirit shot toward Lamair, merging with him in a burst of light. His aura surged, raw and volatile, as the earlier sigil in the sky reappeared. This time, it was no longer a mere symbol but a tangible construct radiating authority and power.

The transformation began. Lamair's form elongated and shifted, his skin turning ghostly pale as his ears sharpened to points. Six eyes—arranged like a spider's—opened on his face, each glowing with an ominous pink hue. Spider-like legs erupted from his back, each glowing faintly with its unique light, giving him an unsettling and predatory appearance. His once-athletic frame became unnaturally thin, and his fingers grew long and slender, tipped with claws that shimmered like polished amethysts.

Above him, the sigil fractured, revealing a rift in reality. From it emerged an enormous, otherworldly hand, its fingers holding thick, pulsating purple strings. The hand radiated an aura of absolute control, its very presence exuding dread that seeped into the surrounding forest.

Lamair floated above the battlefield, his transformed state exuding an overwhelming presence. He looked down at the beast, his voice low and resonant, carrying an edge of eerie calm.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?" he said, his many eyes narrowing. "Let's see how you handle my path."

...

Miles away, Cassandra and the others froze as an oppressive wave of energy washed over them. It wasn't just powerful—it was domineering, like unseen strings wrapping around their bodies and tugging at their very souls.

Cassandra's breath hitched as she stumbled, clutching her chest. "Lamair..." she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes.

Pierre, her twin, gritted his teeth, his usual composure slipping. "It seems he's been pushed too far."

"He's using his path, isn't he?" Lu Qi asked, his voice trembling.

"Yes," Cassandra confirmed, her tone filled with both awe and worry. "Absolute Control... but there's something different. It's stronger. More refined."

Pierre shook his head, his expression grim. "He's not the strongest third year for nothing, but against that thing... this might be his last stand."

The group fell into a tense silence, the weight of the situation sinking in.

...

Back on the battlefield, Lamair raised his slender hands, his movements precise and deliberate. The puppeteer's strings from the massive hand in the rift descended, latching onto his remaining puppets and the scattered remnants of his shattered creations.

Lamair groaned, blood dripping from his mouth as he pushed himself to his knees. His left arm hung limply at his side, the pain searing. His vision blurred, but he forced himself to focus.

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"This can't be the end... not yet," he whispered, summoning what strength he had left.

The puppeteer sigil behind him shimmered, its light dim but still present. Qirantha, who had been flung aside earlier, dissolved into pink energy and surged back into him. Lamair's aura exploded once more, his body transforming further. His pale skin turned nearly translucent, his spider legs growing sharper and longer. Six glowing eyes gazed out from his transformed face, now gaunt and alien.

The beast hesitated for a moment, its primal instincts sensing the shift in power.

Lamair floated into the air, strings shooting out in every direction. They connected to the remnants of his puppets, the debris around him, and even the trees themselves. With a guttural cry, he pulled everything together, creating a massive, makeshift weapon—a jagged construct of wood, metal, and stone, held together by his will.

He hurled the weapon at the beast, the sheer force of it creating a shockwave that rippled through the battlefield. It struck the beast square in the chest, causing it to stumble backward for the first time.

Lamair grinned weakly. "Got you."

But the beast recovered almost instantly. With a furious roar, it charged again, its glowing eyes blazing like twin suns. It swiped at him with its massive claws, tearing through his strings and puppets like paper.

Lamair tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The beast's claw slammed into him, sending him flying. He crashed into a boulder, the impact shattering it and leaving him sprawled on the ground.

Blood pooled beneath him as he struggled to rise. His spider legs were shattered, hanging limply behind him. His left arm was severed, the pain so intense it nearly drove him unconscious.

"I... can't... lose," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

With a final surge of will, Lamair summoned the last of his energy. His strings shot out once more, wrapping around the beast's legs. He pulled with everything he had, forcing the beast to stumble.

But it wasn't enough.

The beast roared, breaking free and slamming its massive paw down on Lamair. The ground around him caved in, and his body went limp.

As darkness closed in, Lamair's last thoughts were of his friends.

"At least... they're safe."

The beast roared triumphantly, its victory shaking the forest as Lamair lay broken and unmoving.