Ancestral Lineage - Chapter 420

Chapter 420: Elaine Belphegor Kael’Dri

What did Sloth represent?

Most would say laziness, idleness, sluggishness, and they would not be wrong. To the common eye, Sloth was the absence of motion, the refusal to act, the stillness that mocked purpose. But that was merely the surface, the shell that concealed the truth.

Sloth was never simply the lack of effort. It was the slow erosion of will, the quiet, unending whisper that told one there was no point. It was not born from weakness, but from despair. From knowing too much, feeling too much, and deciding that none of it mattered anymore.

Sloth was the stillness that followed after every storm, the emptiness after failure, the peace after destruction, the numbness after grief. It was the moment the warrior laid down his blade, not from exhaustion, but from futility. The scholar who stopped seeking because every answer only deepened the void. The lover who stopped loving because every heartbeat hurt too much.

It was the death of desire, not its absence.

Sloth was the quiet killer of purpose, a sin that did not burn, but suffocated. It did not rage or crave; it simply ceased. And that cessation spread, gentle and cold, like sleep overtaking a weary soul.

But within that stillness, there was also understanding. A strange, terrible kind of clarity. For Sloth saw the world as it truly was, the endless cycle of striving and suffering, and simply said, “No more.”

To reject the struggle was, in its purest form, to transcend it. That was why Sloth was feared even among demons. Because to embody Sloth was to touch the edge of nothingness itself, the eternal rest where even pain could not reach.

And those who walked that path, those who surrendered and became one with stillness…were not asleep.

They were awake, more than any other.

…

The night over Anbord was quiet, an unnatural kind of quiet. The kind that seeped into the bones of the world and urged everything to rest. It was just the first night after the emperor merged two worlds, and normally, this should have made people giddy, happy, adventurous, and they were, but… the night was different. It was like a divine decree to them that everyone should sleep.

So, for the first time in the history of Anbord, no one was out in the empire at night. Everyone, from common folk to sentries, was asleep.

In the heart of the Kael’Dri imperial mansion, where polished chrome met enchanted marble and soft light strips formed glowing pathways in the floors, Elaine slept in her personal chamber. A room of sci-fi elegance: floating shelves, holographic curtains drifting like nebulae, a bed suspended slightly above the ground with stasis-field stabilizers humming softly beneath it.

She lay there peacefully, unaware…while the universe held its breath.

It began as a tiny pulse.A quiet ripple of blue-silver energy moving beneath her skin.

Then another.And another.

Soon, the air around her bed shimmered, not violently, but softly, like starlight bending through a dream. The stasis field flickered, struggling to maintain its function as the temperature dropped, frost forming delicate patterns across the chrome walls.

Something ancient had touched her.Something that knew the weight of eternity, and the relief of letting it go.

The room dimmed. Not because the lights failed…But because light itself grew tired.

The holographic curtains flickered into still images, frozen mid-sway.The hum of technology slowed into silence.Time became lethargic.

Elaine’s body shifted slightly, a faint, almost pained breath escaping her lips. A blue sigil, delicate at first, began glowing beneath the skin of her forehead, pulsing with each gentle heartbeat.

Her soul, deeper than blood, deeper than will, began to unravel.

Every burden she had ever carried…Every responsibility forced upon her…Every expectation, every political bond, every restraint…

All loosened, falling away like feathers in a void.

Sloth was claiming its vessel.

The energy intensified, but it was not loud.It was silent and inevitable, like nightfall.

Her bed’s fabric dissolved into motes of mist as ethereal blue threads wrapped around her form. They weren’t chains, they were release. Rest itself, weaving a cocoon.

Her breathing slowed.Her heartbeat softened.Her consciousness drifted far from her body, sinking into a vast, tranquil ocean.

A voice, not heard, but felt, resonated from within:

Rest, child.The struggle is over.Let the world tire itself.You are done.

The cocoon brightened, and the transformation began to manifest physically.

Her hair lost its previous color, dissolving into strands of cool mist before reforming as flowing, misty gray locks, weightless and drifting as though underwater.

Her skin paled to a near-luminous porcelain, untouched by life’s fatigue yet embodying it so completely that even existence seemed heavy upon her.

Her eyelids fluttered open, not fully, just enough for the change to be seen. Her eyes had become deep silver, reflecting a sky without stars, surrounded by blackened sclera that made her gaze appear eternally exhausted… yet infinitely aware.

The sigil on her forehead, the mark of Sloth, finalized into shape: a glowing blue emblem, like a crescent cradling a falling star. It pulsed faintly with every slow blink she made.

And then the last tether to her old form broke.

Her clothing dissolved into shimmering dust, non-sexual, simply a symbolic shedding, leaving her bare, pure, unburdened, cradled only by the quiet blue aura enveloping her. She appeared like a celestial statue carved from slumber itself.

She looked tired, unbearably tired… as though she had seen all futures and found them equally exhausting.

The final surge of power was silent, a sigh rather than a roar.

A halo of blue mist crowned her head.The room froze in reverent stillness.

Elaine, now Belphegor, lowered her gaze, half-lidded and heavy.Her lips parted only enough for a whisper to escape, as if speaking was already too much effort:

“…finally… rest…”

The mansion did not hear the words, but the Seven Sins did.Across realms, a circle moved one step closer to completion.

And the True Sin of Sloth drifted deeper into sleep…not to escape the world… but because she now ruled the stillness between every heartbeat of creation.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.

Like it ? Add to library！