Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 218 : Frozen Oath: The Guardian of Frosteria

The guardian moved first.

A pulse of icy energy erupted from its core, sending jagged spikes of frost hurtling through the air. The sheer force of the attack shattered the landscape, tearing through the frozen ground like glass.

Ethan's grip tightened on Sage as the drake twisted midair, barely dodging the incoming barrage. Frost coated Sage's wings, slowing it down slightly, but Ethan didn't panic. Instead, he glanced at the swirling black mist trailing behind him.

"Kaldaroth," he called, his voice carrying over the howling winds. "You feel like handling this one?"

A deep chuckle resonated through the air.

"With pleasure, my King."

The black mist coalesced, shifting and writhing until Kaldaroth's towering figure emerged—a massive, abyssal form, his dark armor gleaming under the cold moonlight. His crimson eyes locked onto the guardian, and the air around him grew heavy, charged with an overwhelming presence.

"Oh? A new appearance? Nice."

The guardian let out a low, guttural groan before swinging its massive arm. An avalanche of ice and force surged forward, aiming to crush Kaldaroth in a single blow.

But Kaldaroth didn't move.

As the attack neared, the mist surrounding him expanded, swallowing the incoming frost before it could make contact. The ice was devoured in an instant, leaving nothing behind but empty air.

The guardian hesitated for a split second.

Kaldaroth moved.

A blur of darkness—then he was suddenly behind the colossal being, his hand raised.

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A black icy flame ignited in his palm.

"Burn."

The fire erupted.

It wasn't ordinary fire—it was something deeper, more absolute. The moment it touched the guardian's frozen body, the ice didn't melt. It disintegrated.

The guardian let out a deafening, otherworldly shriek as its form collapsed from the inside out. The chains wrapped around it shattered into nothingness, its entire existence fading into the void as Kaldaroth's flames consumed it completely.

Silence followed.

The wind howled, carrying away the last remnants of the battle.

Ethan exhaled, leaning back slightly on Sage. "Well, that was anticlimactic."

Kaldaroth turned, his gaze unreadable. "It was nothing more than a remnant—a husk bound to an old oath. The true threats lie ahead."

Ethan cracked his neck. "Figured as much." He scanned the icy wasteland below. The guardian was gone, and in its place, something else had been revealed—a structure buried beneath the ice.

A temple.

Its entrance loomed ahead, carved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with power.

Sage let out a low rumble, circling the area before descending.

Ethan smirked. "Looks like we found our way in."

He jumped down, boots crunching against the frost-covered stone as he approached the entrance. The cold was biting, unnatural. It wasn't just the weather—something deeper, something ancient, stirred within these walls.

Kaldaroth followed, his presence lingering at Ethan's side. "Whatever lies inside… it will not welcome us kindly."

Ethan placed a hand against the icy surface of the temple door. His soul mark pulsed slightly.

"Good," he muttered. "I'm not here to be welcomed."

With a push, the massive doors creaked open, revealing the darkness within.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside.

…

The Empire of Frosteria…

Across the vast, frozen expanse, an eerie silence had settled. The frost spirits knelt in unison, their translucent wings folded behind them, their bodies trembling—not from mere fear, but from the unbearable cold that had descended upon their land.

All eyes were fixed on the massive Ice Castle, its towering spires radiating an unnatural chill that even they, the children of ice, could barely withstand.

The wind howled, carrying a deathly frost that swept through the kneeling masses. It wasn't just cold—it was absolute. A primordial force beyond their comprehension.

Some spirits shivered violently. Others, weaker in essence, froze where they knelt, their forms crystallizing into statues of pure ice, never to move again.

Today was not just a nightmare.

It was a reckoning.

A curse they had inflicted upon themselves.

For they had committed an unforgivable sin.

They had defied their queen.

The Frost Queen.

And now, the price was being exacted in full.

High above, atop the icy throne, she sat—silent, unmoving, her frozen gaze fixed upon her subjects below.

Her presence alone suffocated the empire with an overwhelming, suffocating cold.

No words were spoken. No pleas were heard.

Only the sound of the ice creeping, consuming, and judging.

This was the cost of betrayal.

This was their punishment.

And it had only just begun.

…

The air was deathly still within the Ice Castle, thick with the weight of silence. Beneath the towering throne of frozen crystal, thousands of frost spirits knelt in fear, their gazes locked onto the woman seated above them.

Pennilock—no, not Pennilock. That name had been buried beneath ice and time.

Now, she was Seraphis, the Frost Queen.

Her piercing blue eyes, colder than the very blizzards that ravaged the empire, bore down upon the trembling masses. The intricate blue sigil on her navel pulsed faintly, hidden beneath layers of silken ice-blue robes.

Outside, the storm howled like a beast in mourning. The empire itself seemed to shudder beneath the weight of its queen's power.

And yet, Seraphis did not move.

Not when the wails of her people echoed through the palace. Not when the ice crept over the bodies of those who had defied her, freezing them in eternal stillness.

Her mind was elsewhere. Drifting. Falling.

Back to the past. Back to where it all began.

Slap!

A sharp sound rang through the air, a memory so vivid it might as well have been happening again.

A brawny man, his face twisted in contempt, loomed over a frail, trembling girl no older than twelve. Her small form was wrapped in feathered wings of icy blue, shielding herself from the man's wrath.

"You motherless child of a whore!" The words struck as hard as the blows. "Do you think anyone would care for you?!"

The girl—Pennilock—did not respond. She simply cowered, letting the tears slip down her dirt-streaked cheeks. But inside… she was silent. Calculating. Waiting.

She had been branded a curse, a child of misfortune. The Seer's prophecy had doomed her from birth. No matter how many times they tried to kill her, she would not die.

So they did not kill her.

They simply treated her as though she had never been born.

Her own father, the Emperor of Frost, had severed all ties, his grief twisting into hatred. The people whispered that it was her fault her mother had died in childbirth. The Seer had confirmed it—she was a harbinger of ruin.

She had been rejected by the nobility. Feared by slavers. Forced into grueling labor.

But none of them knew the truth.

That she had already awakened.

That the Spirit Beast inside her stirred, waiting for the day she would rise.

That the girl they saw as weak and broken was, in reality, the storm before the blizzard.

She had seen her future.

A prince—her savior—would come. He would unlock her true potential and stand beside her as she claimed the throne that was hers by birthright.

So she played her role.

She pretended to be afraid, weak, obedient. She waited as they mocked her, cursed her, forgot her.

And when the time came—when the pieces fell into place—she would strike.

And the empire would freeze beneath her feet.

The memory faded.

Back in the present, Seraphis exhaled slowly.

Her cold gaze swept over her kneeling subjects. They had defied her. Betrayed her.

And now, they shivered beneath her judgment, their bodies barely holding back the creeping frost that would claim them at any moment.

Her slender fingers tapped against the armrest of her icy throne.

Would she spare them?

No.

She had been spared nothing.

With a simple wave of her hand, the cold deepened—a silent decree.

One by one, the weakest among them froze solid, their bodies turning to crystal-like ice sculptures. A warning. A message.

There is no mercy in the frost.

Seraphis, the Frost Queen, had risen.

And the empire was hers.

…

Ethan and the newly transformed Kaldaroth moved steadily along a narrow pathway, the dim glow of the ancient runes on the walls casting shifting shadows around them. Sage had been withdrawn into Ethan's Beast Space, leaving only the two of them in the eerie silence.

Ethan's long, spiky blue hair swayed gently with each step, an unintentional reminder of the strange bond he had yet to understand. His expression was calm, yet his eyes were sharp—he remained alert. After all, his supposed soulmate was the reason for this sudden change in his appearance, and possibly, the cause of the impending catastrophe.

After a long stretch of silence, Kaldaroth finally spoke.

"My King, what will you do if your soulmate has already lost her sense of reason?"

Ethan's steps didn't falter, but he sighed. "To be honest… I don't know." Then, glancing over his shoulder, he smirked. "And by the way, this new appearance of yours is far better and more convenient than your last one."

Kaldaroth chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound. "I appreciate the compliment, my King."

His crimson eyes gleamed as he continued. "As for your question… If I were in your place, I would do what is necessary based on the circumstances. The extinction of an entire race—perhaps even more—is not something to ignore. If I must destroy a soulmate to preserve existence, I would."

He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "But… there is a reason behind every action. I cannot say what is truly 'right' until that moment comes."

Ethan nodded slightly. "I figured as much." He then exhaled, a firm resolution settling in his voice. "But I would choose my soulmate over anyone else."

Kaldaroth's gaze lingered on him. "Why, if I may ask?"

Ethan's golden eyes flickered under the faint glow of the runes.

"My soulmate is my soul—a piece of me. Losing even one of them could have severe consequences. It's not just about emotion, it's about existence itself."

Kaldaroth remained silent for a moment before nodding. "Mm… I believe I understand."

Ethan smirked. "Just know this—soulmates are not just a bond. They are something deeper, broader… and far more dangerous than most realize."

Kaldaroth hummed in agreement, and the two of them pressed forward.

The path ahead remained uncertain.

But Ethan had already made his choice.