Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 239: A Son in the Making

"Sounds of battle roared through the grand arena, each collision of magic and will sending tremors through the earth. The ground cracked, splintering beneath the raw force being unleashed. Blinding streaks of blue and orange tore across the sky above the arena—one cold as death, the other fierce as the sun. They danced, clashed, and exploded in a chaotic storm of power that only the strongest could endure.

And then, silence.

The streaks halted in mid-air. Smoke and magical residue slowly cleared, revealing a young man doubled over, his long grey hair wild and soaked with sweat. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mist forming around his lips with each exhale. He raised his head, icy breath hissing between clenched teeth as his deep blue, draconian eyes glared across the battlefield.

Facing him stood a woman—tall, towering, magnificent. Eight feet of raw elegance and overwhelming presence. Dressed in a sleek black tracksuit that did nothing to conceal her terrifying grace, she approached him with a calm, affectionate smile. Her orange hair was tied into a thick bun, barely concealing the curved horns that lay nestled within. Her own draconic eyes glowed a soft amber, watching him with both pride and expectation.

"You're the firstborn, Regnare," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "Don't you want your father to be proud?"

Regnare stood up slowly, eyes cold and steady. "I do, Mother. But you're too strong."

His voice, as quiet and emotionless as the ice he wielded, carried an intensity that matched his Spirit and Dragon Ice magic.

The woman chuckled, folding her arms. "Come on now. I'm only the second strongest among your mothers. I should be a piece of cake for you."

"Yeah, yeah…" Regnare muttered, exhaling frost. "You say that every time. But in three years, I haven't even landed a hit."

She grinned wider. "Then maybe you should try harder."

A sudden voice drifted in from the arena's grand entrance—soft, silky, and sweet like honey under sunlight. "Stop being so hard on my baby boy, Caldessa. You know Regnare isn't built like that."

Caldessa glanced toward the voice and raised an eyebrow. "Lisa? What are you doing here?"

Lisa, ever elegant, stepped into the arena with a serene smile on her lips. Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief as her heels clicked softly against the stone floor. Unlike Caldessa's fiery aura, hers was soothing—yet no less deadly. She walked with the grace of a leopard and the presence of a queen.

"Just checking in on my son," she said with a wink to Regnare. "And making sure you don't break him again."

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"Please," Caldessa snorted. "You know I hold back. He's just dramatic."

Regnare sighed. "I'm right here, you know."

Lisa giggled and made her way to him, brushing a few strands of hair from his face before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I know, sweetheart. And I also know your mother's been too harsh on you."

"I'm training him to be strong," Caldessa said, rolling her eyes.

"To be strong, yes," Lisa replied calmly. "But he doesn't need to become a weapon. He's not just some legacy. He's our son."

Regnare looked between the two women and muttered under his breath, "And people say I'm the cold one."

Both mothers turned toward him in unison, one with warmth, the other with playful fire.

Then a new voice, laced with threat, cut into the conversation. "I would advise any of you to stay out of this."

"Or else?" Caldessa snapped, her eyes narrowing.

"I will confiscate all your collections—and I'll have Sera encase your room in ice. You know what will happen if that happens."

Caldessa's face twisted with a mixture of incredulity and fear as a silver-haired elf woman neared them. "You can't be serious right now, Andri. Right?" she demanded.

"Darling is still asleep," Andries stated coolly, her violet eyes glowing with controlled menace. "Please, refrain from causing any further harm."

"Are you still in on this?" Caldessa asked, her earlier fear giving way to growing rage as she stared down Andriel.

A fierce wind whipped around them, the tension thick as their staring contest escalated into a battle of wills. The charged atmosphere spoke of old grudges and hidden alliances, of promises made in whispers and threats veiled in affection.

"Listen, Caldessa," Andriel finally said, her tone icy and firm. "We all know your methods are… excessive. But if you continue like this, you'll end up breaking more than just Regnare."

Caldessa's eyes flashed. "You think I don't know that? I do what I must to make him strong. To prepare him for a world that would crush him otherwise."

Lisa stepped forward, her smile now soft but laced with concern. "Maybe we should remember that strength comes from balance, not just raw power. Regnare has potential—more than enough to shape his own destiny. We shouldn't force him into something he's not ready for."

"And you, Andri," Caldessa hissed, "what is it that you really want? To see him falter? To see him break under our expectations?"

Andriel's gaze hardened. "I want him to be free from your tyrannical training. Free to find his own path, not one dictated by our own pride and fear."

The wind swirled violently around them as the debate reached its peak—a collision of ideologies as intense as the magic that had filled the arena moments before.

In that charged moment, Regnare looked up from where he stood amid the residual frost and fire. His eyes, usually a cold blue, softened with a flicker of uncertainty. "Maybe… maybe it's not about proving strength by hurting each other. Perhaps it's about protecting what we hold dear—each other."

Silence fell as the wind gradually subsided, leaving behind a heavy, lingering tension. The conversation, as heated as it was, had not yet resolved the ancient conflicts that plagued their lineage. But in that arena, with battle scars etched on stone and hearts laid bare, a small seed of understanding began to take root.

And as the spectators of the grand arena watched from afar—knowing that these words, these disputes, were as much a part of their legacy as the battles fought with magic and steel—they held their breath, wondering what the future held for the firstborn, Regnare, and the fractured family he was destined to inherit.

The arena's tumult had not yet ended; it had merely shifted into a new phase—a phase of whispered promises, fierce debates, and the slow, inexorable march toward a destiny written in ice and fire.