Legacy of the Ancestors
The only sound echoing in his ears was the roaring cascade of the ancestors' waterfall. A strange sensation blending emptiness and fulfillment. Rowen's body floated weightlessly in the void. His eyes were open, but he saw nothing. There was only an endless, blinding light. It wasn't that his vision had failed; there was simply nothing there to perceive. The spirits could see it, but Rowen could not. A few seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time lost all meaning as he drifted through the air. In that buoyant haze, he settled cross-legged at the center of the mana waterfall.
Everything ahead was pure white. The former visage of Valenos that had stood before him was gone. The sturdy old man's form had been engulfed by vast mana, transforming into a spirit, and had slipped into Rowen's embrace as a blooming blue rose. Hours passed like that. Attuning his ears to the mana waterfall, Rowen finally heard a voice.
[Rowen. Can you hear my voice?]
"...It's a bit fuzzy, but not like I can't make it out."
[Good. To think you'd grasp the language of spirits in just a week. Talent, indeed.]
"Language of spirits? So this waterfall roar is rune?"
[The essence of runes. Runes are the solidified form of the spirits' language.]
"News to me."
Rowen leaned in closer to Valenos's words. If what he said was true, he'd spent that dizzying week listening to nothing but crashing waves. What monstrous focus!
To absorb the knowledge unlocked by his contract with the Spirit King, he needed to understand the language of spirits.
Rumble...
The language of spirits began to take form. In the once-pure white space, a silhouette emerged. It resembled an ice sculpture, yet its movements were vividly human. Rowen didn't know who it was. But he could sense it: blood tied them together.
[Karma.]
"Karma?"
[Rowen, your grandfather. Father of Kasion and Kadan.]
"...What? Why's someone like that here?"
[Don't forget—this is within me.]
"How could I?"
[Then the answer's clear. You've contracted with me, your progenitor and the Spirit King. You'll inherit the power of all us spirits who've become one with the ancestors.]
One by one. All ancestors' memories and strength, save those who never entered the Soul Spring. Spanning thousands of years, the will of frost now fell to Rowen to bear.
Starting strong from the outset. The Valenos blood grew mightier with each generation. Kadan and Kasion's souls were claimed by demons, reduced to nothingness. A tragedy, but Rowen would never reunite with his two fathers.
Karma extended his hand. His grandfather's touch was kind and warm, a faint smile suggesting he'd watched Rowen's every step. Though they'd never met, Rowen's chest burned hot.
"Stay cold."
"...Pardon?"
"You must learn coldness. A vengeful ghost consumed by revenge across eons—that's you now."
"I'm controlling my vengeance."
"No. If you could master that heart from the start, you wouldn't have died like that a thousand years ago."
"...You've seen my past?"
"Not seen—known. We live as one with our ancestors. With you contracting directly, we naturally know all there is to know about you."
Is that even possible? He almost asked, but there was no reason for lies, and it felt true enough to let slide. Did common sense even apply here? Belzebub's raw power defied logic already—what was this compared to that? One man subduing six Demon Kings. That was the king of demons, the mightiest he'd failed to slay by a hair's breadth in his past life.
"Belzebub. To think my grandson fought the sealed Demon King I'd only heard tales of. Still hard to believe, but..."
Karma gripped Rowen's shoulder and slowly pressed his forehead to Rowen's. A chilling rationality rooted deep within him. As former captain of the Frost Knights, Karma had raised sons Kadan and Kasion with stern discipline. Coldness. Punishing his own children pained him, but it was necessary to prepare them for battle against demons once their seal broke. He'd gazed only to the future. It cost him their gaze in turn... but no regrets. They'd grown splendidly, and though not as hoped, he'd meet his grandson thus.
"You've grown well."
"..."
"Truth be told, I'm sorry to you. Kadan had his reasons for hiding the truth."
"...It's fine. Whatever the reason..."
"Good. That's enough. Now you'll know all. And forgive the imperial child."
"You mean Lucius?"
"Yes. That boy's blameless—it was merely my son's request."
Coldness. The very coldness he'd taught Kadan had isolated Rowen. Letting Lucius flee, facing the golem alone. A fight he couldn't win, but better than dying like dogs. Kasion's lover—Rowen's mother's aunt's kin. That was Lucius. To save him, Kadan had to be cold.
Rowen couldn't read Karma's thoughts. He wanted to know, but couldn't. Yet the memories flowing in let him understand everything.
"Don't worry. I don't hate Lucius."
If anything, he's like a friend now. Comrade and cousin, Lucius meant more to the current Rowen. Family. Their bond, forged in losing fathers, had always been strong—now unbreakable. Lucius didn't know, but Rowen wanted to be his strength, now that family was gone.
"Good. That's what matters."
A snowflake pattern bloomed at the center of Rowen's forehead. It shimmered, absorbing Karma's form. Frost mana filled the air. The mark faded, lightless. But Rowen knew: his grandfather's heart and will dwelled deep within. Now, the son he'd neglected could stay by his grandson eternally—as summon, as grandfather.
Rowen touched the lingering afterimage. He'd gained coldness, but something greater: family's warmth. A precious emotion long absent welled up inside.
How many cycles passed like that? Absorbing thousands of years of ancestors' wills was grueling. Mentally exhausting. All those emotions, memories, powers flooding in. He craved rest. Gaining such power at once felt unfair. No free lunches in this world—he got it now.
[Struggling?]
"Fucking hell, yeah."
[Hang in there. My son's last— you'll wake soon.]
"If so, that's a relief..."
As his words trailed, a massive ice form materialized. Familiar to the point of boredom now. Dozens? Hundreds of humans met already? He couldn't recall all their names. Yet his power's vastness grew palpable. Like first meeting Spirit King Valenos in his past life. His soul's rank had elevated.
‘That’s not all.’
His Mana Flower's quality surpassed mere blooming. He owed Valenos thanks. Not even done contracting all, and already this... Inheriting every ancestor plus direct Spirit King pact? Unimaginable strength.
Rowen marveled at the overwhelming realm unfolding. This could match his past life's heights. With most past power returning, he'd surpass it.
Ancestral spirits aligned beside him, wielding frost weapons modeled after their old arms. The demon-slaying army Valenos had forged—he'd chosen Rowen as commander.
Rowen accepted. Now, the final ancestor.
Roooar!
A presence a notch below Valenos, yet shaking space-time. First encounter for Rowen, but the contracted ancestors trembled. After Spirit King Valenos founded the house in the north, his first successor. Valenos's eldest son, founding patriarch, extended a hand to Rowen.
But Rowen didn't take it.
"...Hah."
He sensed it. Instinct honed by hundreds of ancestors kept his hand away. Grabbing it would've meant instant defeat. More than that—killer intent. Aiming to shatter his soul here.
Now fluent in spirits' tongue, Rowen looked skyward. Valenos watched solemnly. What was he thinking? His contractor nearly erased in a blink, yet so brazen. Did he have no shame?
Thus pondering, Rowen stared down the young man before him.
"Planning to flatten a cute descendant? What's in that head of yours?"
"Sensing that means you've perfectly synced souls with the kids."
"Answer my question."
"Cheeky little shit."
"Your shit-filled skull thought it'd beat me to a pulp? Don't wanna contract with me?"
The founding lord, Kazin Valenos, smirked viciously.
"Everything the kids passed on was mostly sensory control."
"Changing the subject?"
"Shut it—listen when an elder speaks!"
"What the fu—"
"Brat!"
Twin ice spears spun a rotational strike. Rowen ducked low, tackling. But Kazin anticipated, kicking him away. A massive wave lit the white space. Simple motion: just grabbed Rowen's shoulder mid-air and booted. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet Rowen's stance crumbled easily. Fatigue buildup? No—Kazin was the monster!
"Gah...!"
"Kid. Watch and learn. This is how you fight."
"...I'm a hero too, y'know."
"I was called a hero once. Thousands of years on, my tale's dust."
The Frost Hero. Kazin Valenos. Spear-wielding knight, first demon-slayer to shatter a Frost Four Kings' core. He'd teach Rowen to fight. Past ancestors shared instinct, life lessons, control, evasion—but not live combat like this.
Kazin eyed him. Left red eye, right golden. Half-blood. He scoffed.
"Dragonkin and spirit lineage mix, plus past-life hero."
"Jealous?"
"Pathetic."
"...Wanna fight?"
"Perfect. You've got insane blood and power, but can't wield it right!"
Twin spears' wave. A circle ravaged white space. Heavy left spin traced arc. Muscles finely tuned. Rowen dodged the precise strike, drawing Ice Blade.
"More mana, higher output doesn't make you strong."
Contracting with Rowen, Kazin yearned to impart everything. Demon Kings revive soon—he sensed it, knew Rowen's all. Valenos house made to kill demons. Progenitor chose this heir after millennia. Must give his best. No malice—just raising a disciple. Thus the killing intent. Harsh, but Rowen must endure.
"Endure! Endure and attune to my speed!"
"...The fuck is this outta nowhere?!"
"I must teach you to fight. Attune first. Lesson after."
Spears behind back, he beckoned mockingly. Ready for Rowen's opener.
"...No regrets?"
"Hahaha! I won't lose to a punk like you."
"Who knows."
"Hit me with your best then?"
"Can you handle it?"
"Yeah."
"...Sky Slash."
Shwick!
Before words finished, Rowen summoned black energy. No hesitation—he cleaved Kazin's form. Hundreds of black crescents followed, mountain-toppling size. Synced ancestors responded to Rowen's moves.