Chapter 9 – The Weight of Blood and Legacy (Part 2)
As the ancestor's presence faded completely, Ansh suddenly felt a powerful force pulling at his consciousness.
Before he could react, everything around him distorted.
In the next instant, he was pushed out of that mysterious space—
—and returned to his original world.
Ansh's eyes snapped open.
For a brief moment, his mind felt heavy, as if it had just traveled across countless realms. But soon, clarity returned.
He looked around.
The room was in complete disarray.
Cracks ran across the walls, furniture had shifted, and several objects had fallen to the ground. The aftermath of the earthquake was evident everywhere.
Yet… none of it mattered to him.
Not right now.
What he had just learned—
about himself, his family, the Ashbound lineage, the System, and the coming catastrophe—
was far too overwhelming
His gaze slowly lowered.
His hand tightened slightly.
"What… should I even do now…?" he muttered under his breath.
For the first time, uncertainty crept into his heart.
Then—
crack…
A faint sound broke the silence.
Ansh froze.
His eyes shifted toward the pendant in his hand.
A thin crack had appeared on its surface.
Before he could react, the crack spread rapidly—visible even to the naked eye—branching out like a fragile web.
Within seconds—
crack… crack…
The entire pendant fractured.
And then—
it crumbled into fine dust, slipping through his fingers.
Ansh stared blankly at his empty palm.
This was the same pendant—
one that hadn't even received a scratch no matter how much force he had applied to it before.
And now…
it had turned to dust so effortlessly.
"…Maybe its purpose is fulfilled," Ansh whispered softly, letting out a faint sigh.
He stood there in silence.
Lost.
For the first time in a long while, he truly didn't know what to do next.
BANG!
The door burst open suddenly.
"Young Master!"
The old butler rushed inside, his usually composed face filled with rare panic.
His sharp eyes immediately scanned the room before landing on Ansh.
"Young Master, are you alright?!" he asked urgently, stepping closer.
Ansh looked at him for a moment, still slightly dazed, before nodding faintly.
"…I'm fine."
The butler let out a quiet breath of relief.
His tense shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Thank heavens…" he murmured.
But then—
his eyes shifted.
They fell upon Ansh's hand.
More precisely—
the fine dust slipping through his fingers.
The butler froze.
His pupils contracted slightly.
For a brief moment, his entire body went still.
"…The pendant…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
A wave of realization struck him instantly.
Shock flickered across his face—something rarely seen on him.
So… it had finally happened.
His gaze slowly lifted to Ansh's face.
There was a subtle change in the young master.
Something deeper.
Something awakened.
The butler straightened his posture unconsciously.
The respect in his eyes deepened.
"Young Master…" he said, his tone turning solemn, "it seems… you now know everything."
Silence filled the room once more.
Ansh met his gaze.
This time, there was no confusion in his ey
only a quiet heaviness.
"…Yes," he replied.
The air between them changed.
Not master and servant—
but something closer to legacy and responsibility.
The butler lowered his head slightly.
"…Then my duty truly begins now."
Ansh didn't respond immediately.
But deep inside—
he knew.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
Ansh took a slow, steady breath.
The lingering shock in his mind began to settle.
He could not afford to remain lost in his thoughts—not now.
There was too much to do.
Too much to understand.
He lifted his gaze toward the old butler, his expression now composed, though a quiet intensity remained in his eyes.
"If you've been with our family since the beginning…" Ansh began, his voice steady, "then you must know about my great-grandfather."
A brief pause.
"Tell me… what do you know about him?"
The old butler remained silent for a moment.
His expression softened slightly, as if old memories were surfacing from deep within.
"When I first met Master Alok…" he began slowly, "…I was nothing."
Ansh listened without interrupting.
"I was an orphan," the old man continued. "I had no home, no family… nothing."
His voice remained calm, but there was a faint weight behind it.
"My life was even more miserable than that of a poor family. At least they had someone to rely on… I had no one."
His eyes lowered slightly, as if looking into the past.
"There were days… when I would go without food entirely. Sometimes for more than a day."
A faint, almost self-deprecating smile appeared on his lips.
"Surviving itself was a struggle."
Ansh's expression tightened slightly.
"But everything changed… the day I met him."
The old man's voice softened.
"I was ten years old."
"He found me."
"He gave me food… when I was starving."
"He gave me shelter… when I had nowhere to go."
"And more than that…"
"He taught me how to live."
Ansh's eyes flickered slightly.
"He taught me how to read… how to write… how to think," the old butler continued. "For the first time in my life… I wasn't just surviving."
"I was living."
A faint warmth passed through his expression.
"For the next eight years… I lived a life I could have never imagined before."
Then his tone changed—becoming more serious.
"When I turned eighteen… Master Alok finally revealed a part of his truth to me."
Ansh leaned forward slightly, his attention sharpening.
"He did not tell me everything," the old man said. "But he told me enough."
"He told me… that the Ashbound family did not belong to this world."
Silence settled between them.
"He said that he had come here with a purpose," the butler continued. "A purpose that could not be fulfilled in his original world."
"To continue his bloodline."
Ansh's fingers curled slightly.
"And not just that," the old man added. "He told me that this world would one day ascend into a higher space."
"And when that time came…"
"His bloodline would play a role in it.
The air in the room grew heavier.
"He entrusted me with a responsibility," the butler said, his voice firm now.
"To protect his future generations."
"To guide them."
"And to ensure… that when the time comes, they are prepared."
His gaze met Ansh's.
"That responsibility… has been passed down to me alone," the old butler said.
He paused briefly, then corrected himself, his voice carrying more weight.
"…To me—and to my descendants."
Ansh's eyes narrowed slightly.
"It was never meant to end with me," the old man continued. "Master Alok made sure of that."
He took a slow breath, as if steadying himself before revealing more.
"When Master Alok brought me in… I was still just a child. I did not understand much of the world, let alone the truth he carried."
His gaze drifted slightly, lost in memory.
"But when I turned eighteen… everything changed."
"He told me something else that day."
Ansh leaned forward slightly.
"Master Alok… was injured."
A brief silence filled the room.
"He forcefully descended into this world. In doing so, he broke through the barrier between spaces."
The old man's expression turned grave.
"That act… came with a heavy price."
"He was already dying.
Ansh's breath hitched slightly.
"He did not have much time left," the butler continued. "Even with his power, the damage he suffered could not be healed."
"So… he prepared."
"He taught me a secret technique."
Ansh's eyes sharpened instantly.
"The Eight Body Trigram."
"This technique," the old man said, "was beyond the standards of this world. It does not rely on essence and instead strengthens the body to its absolute limits."
"It granted me strength far above ordinary humans… and more importantly—"
"It extended my lifespan."
Ansh finally understood.
That was why the old man still stood strong despite his age.
"He told me," the butler continued, "that with this technique, I would have enough time… to fulfill the responsibility he entrusted to me."
"He also gave me another task."
"To teach this technique… to others."
Ansh was slightly surprised.
"But not freely," the old man added firmly. "Only to those I deem truly trustworthy."
"I was to form a small group… a force I could rely on. People who would help carry the burden that I alone could not bear."
His voice lowered slightly.
"But I was also warned."
"This technique must never leak."
"Not to outsiders… not to the unworthy… and not even carelessly."
Ansh nodded slowly.
"However…" the old man continued, his tone shifting again, "there was one restriction that Master Alok was absolutely firm about."
"I was forbidden—"
"to teach this technique to the Ashbound family."
Ansh's eyes widened slightly.
"And I was also forbidden… from revealing anything about your family."
"Until now."
Silence fell.
"Master Alok did not want his future generations to bear this burden," the old man said quietly. "He did not know when this world would ascend."
"He did not want his descendants to live their lives under pressure… or die with regret."
"So he chose to hide everything."
Ansh clenched his fists slightly.
"I was only allowed to reveal the truth under one condition," the butler continued.
"When the family pendant… turned to dust."
Ansh's gaze instinctively dropped to his empty palm.
"That would mean," the old man said, "that you had already learned everything—from the source itself."
"And that the time… had finally come."
A heavy silence followed.
Then, the butler straightened slightly.
"Master Alok also established five rules for the Ashbound family."
His voice turned firm, almost ceremonial.
Ansh frowned slightly.
"Those rules…"
"There are reasons behind each of them," the old man said.
He raised one finger.
"The first rule… is the most important."
"The Ashbound bloodline is extremely powerful. However, not every descendant is guaranteed to inherit it."
"If multiple children were born… there was a chance the bloodline could weaken or even be lost."
Ansh's expression turned serious.
"So Master Alok used a forbidden technique."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
"A technique… to ensure that the bloodline would always pass on."
"But such power comes at a cost."
"Half of his life force… was consumed."
Ansh's eyes widened.
"Forbidden techniques are powerful," the old man continued, "but every one of them demands a price."
"That is why they are called forbidden."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"This particular technique also has a limitation."
"It will continue to work… generation after generation…"
"…only if each generation has exactly one descendant."
"If more than one child is born—"
"The technique will break."
Silence filled the room once again.
"And if it breaks…" the old man said quietly, "there is no telling what will happen to the bloodline."
Ansh stood still, absorbing everything.
The weight of his lineage…
The sacrifice of his great-grandfather…
The responsibility placed upon him…
All of it—
was now undeniable.
And irreversible.
The old butler stood with his hands clasped behind his back.