Ancestral Lineage

Chapter 185 Grandma Is Twelve Years Old?!

"Seraphina..." Vlad whispered, his breath hitching as he stared at the woman before him—the woman he had loved for so long. His crimson eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, unable to tear away from her gaze. Though she looked different, though her presence now carried an overwhelming power that dwarfed even his own, he knew. He knew it was her.

Their bond ran deeper than love, deeper than passion—it was something unshakable, something eternal.

"Vlad..." Seraphina breathed, her glowing white eyes softening with warmth as she looked upon her beloved.

The world seemed to fade for a moment, the chaos of war and duty drowned out by the silent conversation between husband and wife.

A cough interrupted them.

'Hello, guys. This is Seraphina Quinne Smith. My grandmother,' Ethan introduced her casually, scratching his cheek with an awkward expression. Inside, however, he was dreading what was about to come.

And as the saying goes, Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.

"Woah! Grandma is twelve years old?!" Trevor blurted out, his face a mixture of exaggerated shock and amusement.

Seraphina's expression darkened instantly, her eyes narrowing.

"Is that your little brother?" she asked, her tone taking a very dangerous edge.

'Yes.'

What happened next left everyone speechless.

Trevor dangled upside down in midair, his limbs flailing helplessly as a massive black spike spun menacingly just inches away from his very vulnerable butthole.

The usually mischievous vampire prince had gone completely still, his face pale, his voice lost in his throat.

Ethan rubbed his temples. 'I knew this would happen...'

Meanwhile, Vlad let out a deep, exhausted sigh. "She hasn't changed..."

Lamair watched with mild amusement. "Should we save him?"

Lusamine shook her head. "He should learn to pick his words carefully."

And Trevor? He was too terrified to even squeak.

How the mighty had fallen.

'Enough, Grandma...' Ethan commanded, his voice firm but not unkind.

Seraphina huffed in reluctance but finally released Trevor. Not gently, though.

BOOM!

Trevor crashed into the ground with a loud impact, creating a small crater. Dust and debris settled around him as he lay there groaning, utterly humiliated.

Ethan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Can we get to the crux of the matter now? We have a war on our hands. Every moment wasted is another life lost.' His voice grew colder, and a suffocating aura burst forth from him, pressing against the air.

Vlad nodded, his expression turning serious. "Let's head inside the Hall. You'll need to take the Patriarch seat first." Without another word, he turned and walked toward the massive building. The others followed, their faces now set with determination.

Then—

"I don't like this appearance," Seraphina suddenly declared.

Ethan groaned. 'Come on, Grandma...'

"People won't take me seriously when they see me like this. And worse, my love will be seen as a pedophile. Would you want that for your wives?" She crossed her arms, looking up at him expectantly.

Ethan opened his mouth to argue... then closed it.

'...Fair argument.' He sighed and turned toward her. He knelt to meet her gaze, but even then, she was too short.

'I'm going to use my racial influence on you, but you'll need to use mana to maintain the transformation. I won't change your features, just your age and height. You okay with that?'

"That's more than enough for me."

'And the mana?'

"I have more than enough, plus I have my ways."

'Okay.'

Ethan's horns turned crystalline like Seraphina's, glowing with a golden light. His golden eyes blazed, and the streaks of silver and white in his hair shimmered with ethereal brilliance. His hair briefly transformed into something otherworldly—flowing energy rather than mere strands. He took Seraphina's hands, and the transformation began.

A serene yet immense energy flowed into her. In front of everyone, Seraphina's body matured in an instant. She didn't just grow taller—her physique became more refined, exuding an aura of authority. Power radiated from her now, her presence commanding rather than adorable.

She stood at an impressive 6.5 feet, now fully embodying the dignity of a true matriarch.

'How is it?' Ethan asked.

"Better."

'Mm.'

"Thank you."

'You're welcome.'

Seraphina nodded in satisfaction, then practically skipped toward Vlad, who had been watching in stunned silence.

The moment she reached him, the vampire king's expression contorted—his eyes widened, his lips trembled, and then—

Drip.

Blood trickled from his nose.

The harpy suddenly vanished.

A blur—

SHRIIIEEEK!

Jerry barely dodged as a razor-sharp talon sliced the air where his throat had been. The force alone sent him tumbling back, his boots skidding across the blood-soaked ground.

Reginald roared and unleashed a stream of spirit fire, but the harpy twisted midair, her wings folding before she vanished again.

Then—

Reginald yelped as a claw pierced his shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

"SHIT!" Jerry dashed forward, his silver tail snapping out like a whip, glowing red with vampiric energy.

But before his attack could land, the harpy opened her mouth.

And sang.

A sickeningly beautiful melody filled the battlefield.

Jerry staggered, his claws twitching. His mind blurred, his consciousness flickering.

Reginald's flames dimmed, his body trembling.

A Blood Siren's Song.

The harpy's lips curled into a twisted smile.

And then—

The scene cut to black.

...

Back in the grand hall, just as Ethan was settling into his role, another complication arose.

A cloaked figure stepped forward and pulled back her hood, revealing Christel—her face expressionless, her amber eyes distant.

An elder vampire, Lord Ivar, stood beside her and bowed slightly.

"Patriarch," he spoke with a smirk, "as per the ruling of the clan elders, Christel has been assigned to you as a concubine."

Ethan's expression darkened instantly.

'What?'

Christel's voice was empty as she spoke, her gaze never meeting his. "It is my punishment."

Ethan clenched his fists.

'I refuse.'

Ivar's smirk widened. "That is not for you to decide. It has already been decreed by the council."

Ethan exhaled sharply, the embers of his earlier rage threatening to reignite.

This was not over.

A suffocating golden-blue radiance erupted from Ethan, flooding the hall like the rising tide of a celestial storm.

His crystalline horns glowed with an ethereal brilliance, a fusion of both dwarven and vampiric lineage, far beyond what any had ever seen. His wings, no longer concealed, expanded with a mesmerizing hum—not feathery, nor leathery, but an intricate web of pure energy, crackling with raw power.

And his height—he now stood a towering 7.3 feet, an overwhelming presence that dwarfed even the most revered elders in the hall.

The air shuddered under his sheer existence.

"It seems you don't really know who I am," Ethan's voice resonated, deep and commanding, each word pressing down on their very souls.

He took a slow step forward. The floor beneath him cracked, unable to withstand the density of his power.

"I am not a half-blood as you claim." His gaze swept across the room, pinning each dwarf and vampire to their seats like insects beneath the weight of a mountain.

"I am a perfect hybrid, the culmination of both dwarf and vampire. I am your ancestor, your origin." His golden eyes gleamed with an unshakable authority, an undeniable truth.

"Do you dare defy me?"

A deep silence followed, broken only by the labored breathing of those struggling against the oppressive force of his will.

The dwarves, once prideful, now sat stiffly, their horns dimming, their once unyielding gazes now lowered in instinctual submission.

The vampires, so used to being at the pinnacle, found themselves unable to speak.

Even Vlad—one of the most powerful vampires in existence—looked on, an expression of deep satisfaction mixed with an unreadable emotion.

Ethan's wings pulsed, sending ripples of power through the room.

"I wanted to play your little games," he continued, his tone colder, "but this is too much." His gaze settled on Lord Ivar, the smug vampire elder who had spoken earlier.

"You cannot force me to marry." Ethan's voice turned razor-sharp, making Ivar flinch for the first time.

"You cannot order me."

His golden aura flared, and Ivar dropped to his knees, an involuntary reaction from the overwhelming force.

"Do I make myself clear?"