Chapter 174: Prival! II
Damian looked at Serala with eyes that still burned verdant blue.
She stood before him in her transford state, twice the size she had been, primal beauty radiating from features that had been refined beyond mortal standards. The verdant tattoos marking her arms pulsed in rhythm with his own, evidence of a shared transformation.
He waved his hand toward her.
Mana surged from his palm, reaching out to touch her existence and draw back information about what she had beco. The energy responded with the sa enthusiasm it had shown when examining his own changes, eager to share knowledge about the being standing before him.
White words blood before his eyes.
|Entity Analysis: Serala.|
|Existential Classification: Prival Human.|
|Lifeform Tier: Prival Viridis.|
|Note: Subject was in physical contact with speaker during First Utterance of Exelissomai. Full Existential Evolution has been applied.|
|Prival Viridis Qualities: Confird.|
|Lifespan: 10,000 years baseline.|
|Physique Capacity: Maximum of 9 Land and Sky Physiques.|
|Inherent Traits: Prival Body, Prival Mind, Decelerated Aging, Dermal Mana Armor, Inherent Mana Flight, Ancestral Resonance, Stone Communion, Beast Tongue.|
|All paraters match speaker’s elevation. No degradation or variance detected.|
So she had received everything he had received. The sa lifespan. The sa capacity for multiple Physiques!
The sa inherent traits that set Prival Viridis apart from the Common lifeforms they had both been monts ago. They were the sa species now, if species was even the right word for what they had beco.
Then a new notification appeared.
|Land and Sky Physique Manifestation Detected.|
|Note: Existential Evolution to Prival Viridis has triggered spontaneous Physique awakening in subject Serala.|
|New Physique Acquired: Mantle of the First Sangoma.|
|Origin: This Physique belonged to the First Sangoma who walked the Lands of Stone when spirits and mortals shared the sa paths. She was the bridge between worlds, the voice that spoke to what could not be seen, the healer who nded souls as easily as flesh. Her daughters across ages have carried fragnts of her gift. Serala now carries its fullness.|
|Capabilities:|
|Ancestral Communion: Direct communication with spirits of the dead is now inherent. The veil between worlds is thin where you stand. Ancestors will answer when you call, and their wisdom will flow through you without resistance.|
|Spirit Weaving: You may conjure manifestations of Ancestral power into physical form. These Ancestral Shamanic Spells draw upon the accumulated knowledge of every Sangoma who has ever lived. Spells of binding, healing, revelation, and destruction are all accessible through proper invocation.|
|Soul Sight: The spiritual composition of all beings is visible to your perception. Curses reveal themselves. Demon seeds cannot hide. The health of souls is as apparent to you as the health of bodies.|
|Voice of the Veil: Words spoken with shamanic intent carry power that transcends normal communication. Commands can compel spirits. Blessings can heal wounds. Curses can wither flesh. The First Sangoma’s voice shaped reality, and so does yours.|
|Ancestral Armor: When threatened, spirits of protective Ancestors will manifest around you without conscious summoning. They will shield you with their essence and strike at those who an you harm.|
...!
Damian stared at these words with shock that matched what he had felt when reading his own new capabilities.
Serala had gained the power of the First Sangoma. She could commune with Ancestors directly, could conjure spells from accumulated shamanic knowledge spanning ages, could see souls and speak with authority that reshaped reality itself. The Holy Daughter who had been raised to embody purity and peace now carried power that would make the greatest Shamans of the Lands of Stone weep with envy!
He shook his head at the absurdity of it all.
"Young Lugal..."
Uncle Adam’s voice cut through his contemplation, rough with concern that hadn’t faded since the pillar of green fire had knocked him backward. The old warrior was picking himself up from where he had fallen, his Fourth Circle cultivation having protected him from serious harm but not from the shock of what he had witnessed.
Grandmother Essun was staring upward with an entirely different expression.
Her sharp eyes shone with sothing approaching religious awe as she looked between Damian and Serala. Her mouth hung open in a way that would have seed comical under different circumstances. When she finally found her voice, it erged as barely more than a whisper that grew into a shout.
"Are you... are you really not an Ancestor?!"
She pointed at them with a trembling finger.
"You are beginning to look just like the Ancestors of legends!"
...!
The wise woman scread this out with conviction that suggested she genuinely believed she might be addressing beings who had returned from the realm of the honored dead. Her knees looked ready to buckle. Her eyes refused to blink!
Damian was about to tell her no.
But his mind buzzed.
Sothing in her words had triggered a connection, had reminded him of information he had received during his assessnt of his new capabilities. He thought back through the notifications, searching for the line that now demanded his attention.
Ancestral Resonance.
The trait had been listed among his inherent abilities, described as enhanced connection to Ancestral energies and more profound communion with Ancestor spirits. But there had been more at the very end, words he had glossed over in his rush to understand everything else.
Communion with Bloodline Ancestors is now feasible.
Communion with Bloodline Ancestors!
He thought of his father!
His heart began beating faster. His mind bood with implications that crashed against his consciousness like waves against stone. He had been separated from his father and mother for eight sumrs. He had mourned without a body to bury, without ashes to honor, without any way to say goodbye or ask the questions that had haunted him across years of hiding.
But now...
Damian focused on this new body and what it could do. He focused on the Ancestral Resonance burning within his elevated existence. He focused on mories of his father, on the sound of his voice, on the weight of his presence, on the love that had never wavered despite the burdens of empire.
"Oh, Father."
The words erged with emotion he couldn’t contain.
BOOM!
Power began gathering around him in patterns that felt ancient and inevitable. The air grew thick with Mana responding to intent. His verdant blue flas blazed brighter as sothing primal awakened within his elevated existence.
He spoke in The Old Tongue of the ancestors!
The words flowed from his lips without conscious thought, knowledge that had been locked away suddenly accessible to a being whose existence now resonated with ages before common speech existed. His Prival Viridis nature granted him access to this ancestral language, this sacred thod of calling upon those who had passed beyond!
"Ubaba wami, Amadlozi amakhulu!"
My father, Great Ancestor!
His voice rang across the garden with weight that pressed against reality itself.
"Ngifuna ukukubona futhi! Inhliziyo yami ikhala igama lakho!"
I wish to see you once more! My heart cries your na!
Serala’s wing-shaped pupils went wide with shock. She understood every word, her own elevated existence granting her the sa access to the Old Tongue that now flowed through him. Her hands rose to cover her mouth as she realized what he was attempting.
Grandmother Essun fell to her knees.
The wise woman had spent her life learning fragnts of the sacred language, piecing together aning from partial phrases preserved in oral tradition. She couldn’t understand everything Damian was saying, but she understood enough. The words he spoke were invocations that hadn’t been uttered properly in generations. They were calls to the honored dead that most believed impossible outside of legend.
"Vula umnyango phakathi kwezwe! Ngivule ngibonane nobaba wami!"
Open the door between worlds! Allow
to et with my father!
HUUUUM!
A blinding verdant blue light shot from Damian’s body.
The beam surged upward, piercing through the clouds he still controlled, climbing toward heavens that seed to lean down in response. The light carried his intent, his grief, his desperate need to see the man who had raised him one final ti.
The sky began to change.
Verdant blue auroras ford where clear sky had been monts before, ribbons of light weaving together in patterns that belonged to sacred ceremonies rather than natural phenona. They danced and shifted, gathering toward a central point directly above where Damian stood with tears he hadn’t noticed beginning to fall down his transford cheeks.
And within those auroras, an outline began to erge.
A figure took shape, features resolving from light and mory and the connection between a son who had never stopped mourning and a father whose love had not ended with death. The visage was distinguished, carrying the bearing of soone who had commanded the loyalty of millions. The expression was warm despite the majesty it radiated.
The glorious and majestic form of an Ancestor blood above the Cradle of First Flas.
Emperor Vakochev.
Zuku Vakochev!
His father.
Oh!
Damian stared upward at the apparition with eyes that burned and blurred. Eight sumrs of grief crashed against eight sumrs of rage, both overwheld by a single mont of impossible reunion. His transford body felt suddenly small despite its expanded size, a child standing before a parent whose presence had never truly been replaced.
The aurora-ford visage of Emperor Vakochev looked down at his son!
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