Ancestral Lineage-Chapter 295: Delphina Kael’Dri, the Battle ManiaChapter

The air burned with ozone.

Cracked pavement stretched like a wounded tongue beneath her bare feet, heat rising from the ruins of what used to be the market district. Shattered neon signs flickered uselessly above her head—casting fractured words across her skin. "SHELTER" blinked dimly on a wall behind her. It had failed.

She stood alone in the silence before war.

Twelve years old. Hair like fire spilled down her back in untamed waves. Her dark skin was streaked with ash, and her golden eyes glowed like twin suns behind a thin veil of calm.

In her hands, she held the katana—black as a starless void. No reflection, no gleam, just weight. Presence. Purpose. It hummed, not with tech, but something older. Hungrier.

Above, the mechs descended like falling gods.

Four of them. Humanoid, sleek. Their synthetic muscles hissed as they landed in a loose arc around her. Each towered over three meters tall, plated in polished alloy, armed with ion blades and kinetic cannons. Their faceless visors scanned her, likely calculating threat level. Small. Human. Young.

Irrelevant.

The central unit raised a warning beacon. Red light flashed across her chest.

SURRENDER.

She tilted her head slowly. Her bare foot tapped the ground once, then twice. She said nothing.

Then she moved.

The world split.

She moved—and the world failed to catch up.

One breath, and she was no longer where she'd stood. A shimmer of red blurred past the lead mech's legs, too fast for its scanners to lock. By the time it turned its head, something was already wrong. Its left arm dropped to the ground with a heavy clang.

No flash. No scream. Just the clean whisper of metal parted.

Her feet barely touched the ground. She danced between them—light as smoke, sharp as fury. The katana never gleamed; it swallowed light, carved arcs through the air so quickly they left trails of nothingness behind.

A second mech lunged. She flipped backward, landed on its chest, and in one smooth movement, drove the blade straight down through its visor. Sparks sprayed like fireflies. It convulsed, then collapsed to its knees.

They were learning now.

The remaining two backed away, analyzing, recalibrating.

Too late.

She exhaled slowly, raised her blade parallel to her face, and pressed her thumb gently to the base of the hilt.

The air buckled.

A wave of force rippled outward—silent, invisible, but violent in its effect. The ground cracked beneath her. The black katana pulsed once, like a heartbeat.

She charged.

This time, the mechs fired—white-hot bolts of plasma streaking through the dusk. She twisted mid-run, skimming under one shot, leaping over the next. Her body moved with unnatural grace, not enhanced by tech, but by training far beyond her years.

She sliced the cannon arm off one, then pivoted and carved a perfect diagonal line through the other's chestplate. Sparks. Steel. Silence.

When it ended, she stood alone.

Four mechs broken behind her, their heavy bodies twitching in ruin. She knelt and wiped her blade on the sand, then slid it back into the thin scabbard strapped to her spine.

Stillness returned.

Somewhere behind a fallen tower, civilians peeked out, their eyes wide. None dared speak. They didn't know her name.

But they would remember the red-haired girl with gold eyes and the katana that drank light.

She turned toward the horizon. More would come.

She welcomed them.

The last sparks from the mechs died out, crackling weakly as their cores shorted and hissed.

Delphina stood in the silence she had earned. Her chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths, the katana at her side now still and silent.

A red glow crawled beneath her skin—like veins lit with stormfire. It pulsed gently along her arms, across her collarbone, and faded into quiet embers as she calmed.

Blood Lightning.

It was hers. A rare, volatile fusion of two ancient energies. Lightning for speed, precision, chaos. Blood for instinct, memory, and wrath.

No machine in Anbord could replicate it. It wasn't something she'd been taught. It was something she was born with.

A gift. Or a burden.

Delphina lifted her gaze to the sky—washed in hues of burnt orange and smoke. Her golden eyes shimmered, reflecting the fading light.

"Too slow," she muttered to herself, brushing dust off her baggy sweater. "I telegraphed the third strike. Father would've blocked it."

She turned, walking toward a slab of broken ferrocrete where a sleek black satchel waited for her. She reached into it and pulled out a small flask of water, taking a slow sip before crouching to open a compact holoslate.

A recorded message blinked on the screen. Her father's voice. Calm. Measured. Always a step ahead.

"Every kill isn't a victory. Every fight isn't a war. You don't need to win, Delphina—you need to understand. Your power won't be real until it listens to you, not just reacts for you."

She stared at the image of him—Ethan, the Sovereign of Anbord. The world called him emperor. But to her?

"Dad," she whispered with a small grin. "I know."

Her fingers sparked briefly with crimson lightning as she closed the holoslate and sheathed it.

The mech parts behind her still smoked. But she wasn't here for conquest.

This was just training.

She glanced at the blade, then at her hands—still tingling with residue power.

"I'm almost ready," she said softly. "Next time... I'll make you proud."

And then she vanished into the ruins, her red hair trailing like a comet behind her, a girl of twelve with the blood of a god and the storm of a new world in her bones.

The simulation faded, the world unraveling in light and static until only a white-tiled chamber remained.

Delphina stood in the center, hair damp with sweat, cheeks flushed, and katana still clutched loosely in her small hands. Her golden eyes blinked a few times as the last of the projected battlefield disappeared.

"End simulation," she said, stepping off the raised platform.

A soft hiss came from the far end of the chamber as the access door slid open—and Lisa stepped in.

Dark-skinned and striking, with short black hair streaked with gold and eyes just like Delphina's, she cut a powerful figure. Muscular yet curvy, she wore a sleeveless jacket zipped halfway, exposing the shimmer of faint scars across her collarbone. But her expression wasn't stern.

It was amused.

Lisa looked around the chamber, then raised an eyebrow. "Four mechs? Really?"

Delphina tried to look casual. "They weren't real mechs."

"No, but they really exploded." Lisa walked closer and gently ruffled her daughter's sweat-stuck hair. "You're overheating again. That Blood Lightning of yours is greedy."

Delphina made a face and ducked away. "Mommm, I'm fine."

"Mm-hmm," Lisa replied, already handing her a cooling pad and bottle of citrus water. "You were talking to yourself again. Something about your dad blocking your third strike?"

Delphina took the water without answering right away, then muttered, "He would've. I slowed down on the spin."

Lisa gave a low laugh. "Sweetheart, you're twelve. You spun in midair and carved a mech's head off. That's plenty fast."

Delphina looked down, mumbling into her bottle, "Still not good enough."

Lisa knelt to eye level, golden gaze serious now. "Good enough for who?"

The silence stretched for a moment before Delphina looked away.

"…No one."

Lisa studied her a second longer, then smiled and sat back, legs crossed on the simulation floor. "Okay. So we're just blowing things up for fun now?"

Delphina grinned. "Yup."

"Cool," Lisa said, leaning back on her hands. "When I was your age, I tried to climb a signal tower in our home. Your grandma didn't speak to me for a week."

Delphina giggled. "You're lying."

"I'm serious! I wanted to see if I could catch lightning in a bottle." Lisa gave her a wink. "Didn't work. Just got electrocuted and grounded forever."

"Okay, that sounds like something I'd do."

Lisa smirked. "Exactly. You're my kid."

Delphina sat beside her, legs stretched out, sipping her water. For a while, they just sat there in the silence of the empty chamber. No simulation. No pressure. No empire. Just a mom and her kid.

Lisa eventually glanced down and nudged her gently with her shoulder.

"…Hey. You did good today."

Delphina didn't respond with words, but she leaned slightly against her mother.

And Lisa smiled.

...

The transport door whooshed open with a hiss, and warm city air spilled in—carrying the smells of spice, grilled starch wraps, and the faint sting of coolant vapors from hover-bikes roaring overhead.

Delphina's golden eyes widened with delight as she stepped out beside her mother, their boots clicking lightly on the illuminated sidewalk. Neon signs blinked across the skyline, painting the evening in blues, purples, and golds. Buildings towered like polished metal trees, their roots nestled in old cobblestone alleys where food stalls still thrived.

Lisa had changed into a loose olive jacket over a dark tank, paired with black joggers and chrome-accented sneakers. Delphina wore an oversized hoodie with some holo-anime character across the back and knee-high socks poking out of her boots. Her long red hair was tied up in a high puff, bouncing with each excited step.

"Okay," Lisa said, hands in pockets. "Where are we going first, Commander Mech-Slayer?"

Delphina spun on her heel dramatically. "The noodle cart."

Lisa raised a brow. "The one that nearly set your tongue on fire last time?"

"Exactly." Delphina smirked.

They weaved through the city crowd—locals in layered coats, augmented musicians playing electric flutes, a street vendor selling glowing sugar shards on sticks—and stopped at a narrow alley lit with hanging lanterns. The noodle cart was already packed with customers, but the chef, a three-eyed lady with a cybernetic arm, spotted Delphina and grinned.

"You brought the thunderstorm again?" she called to Lisa, already ladling broth.

"Yep," Lisa replied, sliding into a seat with a tired but fond sigh. "Small storm today. Just vaporized four mechs."

Delphina plopped down beside her, swinging her legs. "Can I get the Blood Pepper Level this time?"

The chef laughed. "You trying to kill your tongue again, little fang?"

Delphina grinned. "Maybe."

Lisa rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.

Soon, steaming bowls arrived—broth red as a solar flare, noodles coiled like snakes, topped with sizzling cuts of protein and crushed spice crystals. They slurped and coughed and laughed as the heat kicked in, Delphina turning redder than her hair and Lisa passing her a chilled drink with a smirk.

"You're ridiculous," Lisa said, watching her daughter fumble with her chopsticks and then resort to stabbing the noodles with a fork.

"I'm brave," Delphina mumbled through a mouthful.

After noodles, they wandered the neon-lit market. Delphina begged for a glowing candied fruit stick and then a souvenir: a tiny wind-up mech in the shape of a cat. Lisa grumbled but bought them both, because Delphina looked up at her like she'd hung the moon. free𝑤ebnovel.com

They ended the night sitting on a quiet rooftop ledge, sipping fizzy tea, city lights spread out below them like constellations.

"Hey, Mom," Delphina said softly, leaning against her.

Lisa looked down. "Yeah?"

"…Do you think I'll be strong enough one day?"

Lisa didn't answer right away. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Delphina's face, and smiled gently.

"You already are, baby. Just… in your own way."

Delphina didn't speak again. She just leaned into her mom, the mech-cat purring softly in her lap.

Above them, the night rolled on—quiet, warm, and full of stars.