Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 342: Longing

It had been three full days since Ethan and his wives had entered what the officials—and the entirety of the Empire of Anbord—were calling "secluded cultivation." Of course, if anyone knew the real nature of that so-called cultivation, there would’ve been mass nosebleeds, and perhaps even spontaneous enlightenment—or heart attacks.

Because what they had truly achieved... was fluid exchange of the highest, most passionate kind.

It wasn’t just a lovers’ reunion—it was a celestial convergence of divine lineages, ancestral blessings, suppressed desires, and primal need. And, surprisingly or not, the results were far-reaching, both physically and spiritually. Especially spiritually.

Their intense unions were not just about lust or even love—it was deeper. Spiritual entanglement. Resonance-level intimacy. The kind that cracked open soul barriers and unshackled sealed bloodlines.

Each wife was different, after all. Each of them from a mythic race or bloodline. And being impregnated by Ethan, a being that now held echoes of multiple ancestral powers, vampiric essence, dwarf-hardened blood, Primordial influence, and godlike potential, wasn’t exactly a matter of biology. It was a clash and blending of divine blueprints.

So far, Ethan had three children, and possibly more brewing.

Regnare

The first to truly call Ethan "Father." A small Youkai, a Wolf Spirit child that was originally not of Ethan’s blood, but fate had other plans. Barki had adopted him, and through mysterious spirit-bound mysticism, Regnare underwent an Essence Fusion, taking on the combined aura and spiritual lineage of both Barki and Ethan. His once playful aura now held dormant strength—a strange, eerie calm that sometimes mirrored Ethan’s own when he went quiet before breaking mountains.

To many, Regnare was simply a blessed adopted child. To those who could sense essence, however, he was a true spirit-borne heir of the Crimson Emperor and the Flame Dragon Queen.

Delphina

The proud daughter of Ethan and Lisa, the lightning queen. Her conception had been the simplest—at least, in theory—since Lisa was a human. But not just any human.

She was of the High Human Lineage, one that traced back to Adam, the original mortal blueprint, the first to wield Will in its purest form. That made Lisa’s body a paradox—fertile, yes, but also slow to bring forth a child, as her womb wasn’t just forming a baby, but something more.

Delphina’s birth had been a cosmic ordeal. She came into the world wrapped in lightning, her eyes glowing with untamed potential. Her very cry caused power surges across the continent. And now, she was already showing signs of wielding dual affinities—Blood and Lightning—like a refined echo of her father and mother.

Harley’s case was perhaps the most interesting. Once human, now a Gorgon of the Highest Order, her transformation had altered the entire nature of her body and soul. She still had her humanity, but it was cloaked in serpentine divinity, her blood laced with ancient monstrous might.

She had been impregnated, but even now—three days after Ethan’s return—there was little sign of traditional pregnancy. Only a barely-there curve at her lower abdomen hinted at the life within.

But Ethan, ever the seer, had already confirmed it.

This child was gestating slowly, gathering not just physical substance, but conceptual power. Whatever child Harley would bear, it would be unlike anything that had come before. Even the Grimoire refused to make a prediction.

It was easy to mistake their activities for mere pleasure, but what happened inside those walls was of a different magnitude.

Through their profound bond as soulmates, Ethan and his wives had crossed into the realm of spirit-sex, a state of spiritual merging where souls did not just touch—they twined, evolved, and transformed each other. It wasn’t quite soul-union, but it was one step below—and that one step made all the difference.

Many of them found their affinities deepening, and their Path thresholds cracking open.

Some stood on the precipice of Sainthood, others on the cusp of godlike ascension.

Asteria — Demigod Realm. Her strength was terrifying. Though she had sealed her Cybernetic Divinity, her Chronomancy Path still pulsed with raw potential. With her Cyber Path unsealed? She’d be beyond gods.

Pisces and Athelia — Currently Grandmasters. They were the gentlest among the wives, but even now, after days of cultivation, their paths were stabilizing. Both were on the verge of stepping into the Emperor Realm.

Lisa, Clara, Andriel, Carmen, and Barki — Fluctuating between Low Emperor Realm and Peak Saint Realm. Their foundations were firm and would soon blossom into full Saint power.

Harley, despite her pregnancy, was still combat-capable, and within the Peak Emperor Realm, her Gorgon blood now stirred ancient memories and powers within her.

The seclusion had indeed birthed more than pleasure.

It had birthed power. Unity. Possibility. And perhaps... destiny-altering life.

Now, the only question was:

What would the world do when it discovered that the Crimson Emperor had returned, not just with power, but with a growing divine family behind him?

Because one thing was clear:

The House of Ethan was rising.

...

Ethan lay in the middle of the enormous silken bed, his body sprawled out like a defeated champion of passion. A peaceful, serene smile rested on his lips—the smile of a man who had thoroughly, undeniably, and gloriously fulfilled his duties... to the empire, yes—but most especially, to his wives.

On either side of him, Asteria and Barki, the towering beauties and undeniable milf deities, were glued to his arms, their curvaceous forms wrapped possessively around him. Asteria’s honey-brown skin shimmered faintly with Chrono-light, her long silver-white hair spread like a regal veil across the sheets. On the other side, Barki, the Dragon Ruler of Flames and Fire, nestled her head into Ethan’s neck, her soft breathing laced with residual heat, a smirk of satisfaction tugging her lips.

Due to Ethan’s current height—taller than most men but still dwarfed by these two statuesque women—the sight was a little comical. He looked like a spoiled prince between two divine body pillows.

Above his head, perched quite literally like a queen upon her throne, was Carmen. Her round, perky behind was planted squarely on his head, her feline tail lazily flicking side to side. Occasionally, her hips shifted ever so slightly, causing Ethan’s head to nuzzle into her thighs—not that he complained. Her eyes remained closed, but her purring was loud and content.

Nestled right beside her was Clara, the elegant six-tailed fox, who had somehow regressed into a baby-like state of satisfaction, gently suckling on one of Carmen’s breasts in her sleep. Carmen didn’t even blink—used to her wife’s antics. Clara’s six tails were draped in lazy spirals around herself, twitching in sync with Carmen’s.

Beside Clara lay Lisa, her toned, dark skin slick with a mix of sweat and... suspiciously divine fluids. Her hair was in a mess of curls, and her legs were tangled with Clara’s. Her breathing was shallow but calm, and a faint electric crackle still occasionally danced across her skin.

On Ethan’s chest, Elaine had sneakily wedged herself in between the two milf goddesses, her small but firm body claiming that sacred space. She slept like a baby, mouth slightly open, one arm draped over Asteria, the other gripping Ethan’s jaw like a pillow. Despite her droopy green eyes, she had fought her way to the prime cuddling spot and won.

The rest of the women formed a web of limbs and curves around them:

Andriel cuddled close to Harley, her glowing silver hair tangled with Harley’s serpentine locks. The contrast between the soft moonlight and the dangerous gorgon aura was oddly mesmerizing as both women held each other like old lovers reunited.

Christel lay just behind them, turned away from Ethan, her arms folded beneath her bust as if sulking... though the slight blush on her cheeks betrayed how deeply satisfied she actually was. Her breathing was calm but strong, and the thin tremble in her thighs said enough.

Pisces and Seraphis, the twin empresses of ice, lay like matching statues on either side of the bed’s foot. The air around them was frosted, sparkling like morning dew. Despite their chilling power, their expressions were soft, vulnerable in their sleep, the glow in their eyes dimmed after their intense experience.

Athelia, last but never least, had curled herself into Ethan’s side near his legs, one hand gripping his thigh tightly as if in fear he might vanish again. Her usually tough demeanor was gone, replaced by a soft pout on her lips and flushed cheeks.

Twelve divine women.

One emperor.

A bed that had long since lost the war.

The Empire of Anbord might call it cultivation, but what truly occurred here was a celebration of unity, of love, of fate-bound passion.

It was a miracle that the bed was still standing after all the torture it had been through these past three days.

...

Far from the bustling heart of Anbord, in the coldest, most remote part of the world, the snow fell in whispers. The snowy regions of the Werewolf Tribe, descendants of the primordial wolf Fenrir, lay draped in a silver silence. Here, atop the highest peak, under the endless blanket of night, sat a lone figure bathed in moonlight.

She was beautiful-no, ethereal.

A woman with dark skin that shimmered like polished obsidian, her long, snow-white hair tumbling freely down her back like winter’s breath itself. Her features were noble, her posture proud, yet there was a lingering melancholy in her aura, a solitude that had etched itself too deeply into her bones.

Emma, a name whispered across ancient packs and snowy legends. The future matriarch. The one blessed—and cursed—with deep knowing. Unlike the others of her kin, she bore the mark of Fate’s design.

Her eyes, glowing deep blue, were fixed on the full moon above. A perfect moon, radiant and whole—yet even its beauty could not soothe the ache gnawing inside her.

She sighed, her breath forming a gentle cloud of frost. "It’s a beautiful night," she murmured to no one in particular. "So why... why does it still feel so empty?"

She curled her toes into the snow, grounding herself, trying to ignore the familiar ache that pulsed within her. A longing she could never drown in icy baths or silence with her own trembling fingers.

She wanted touch. Not mere warmth, not company. His touch. The one her soul had cried out for across the endless span of time.

Her soulmate.

The one meant for her—and her alone.

"How long has it been?" she whispered into the void. "Days? Years? Decades?" Her eyes fluttered closed. "You’re near... I can feel you. Yet still, you remain just out of reach."

The sky answered.

A streak of silver light arced across the heavens—a comet—racing directly over her head. It shimmered briefly, as if to say:

"Don’t despair, Emma. I will bring him to you. Soon."

She opened her eyes. Hope flickered there. A fragile but steady flame.

Then she stood.

The wind howled softly in greeting as her long white tail unfurled behind her, swaying like a banner of coming change. Her presence was commanding—regal—and the snow beneath her feet yielded, not daring to disturb her. frёeωebɳovel.com

"Very well then," she said to the night. "Let’s prepare to meet the new Emperor of Anbord."

Her lips curled into the faintest smile. "I’ve heard... he’s strong."

This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢