Ethan stood frozen, the book still clutched in his hands.
The voice had not come from the chamber. It had not come from the shadows or the stone or the ancient air that filled his lungs. It had come from somewhere deeper, somewhere inside him.
『 SYSTEM AWAKENING COMPLETE. 』
『 Welcome, Host. 』
His first instinct was to drop the book. His second was to run.
He did neither.
Five years in the capital had taught him many things, and one of them was this: when something impossible happens, you do not panic. You watch. You listen. You learn.
Ethan’s grip on the book tightened.
"Who are you?" he asked. His voice was steady, though his heart was not.
『 I am the Heavenly Ancestor Fabricator System. 』
『 I have been dormant for three hundred and forty-seven years, waiting for a worthy host. 』
Ethan blinked. The words made no sense. And yet, somehow, they felt true.
"You’ve been waiting," he repeated slowly. "For me?"
『 For a Blackwood who still believes in the family’s legacy. 』
Ethan almost laughed. "I don’t believe in anything."
『 You returned. 』
"That doesn’t mean I believe."
『 It means you hoped. 』
Ethan had no answer to that.
He looked down at the book in his hands. The pages were blank—completely, utterly blank. No text, no symbols, no markings of any kind. Yet he could feel something radiating from it, a faint warmth that seeped into his fingers and traveled up his arms.
"What is this?" he asked. "What are you?"
『 I am a tool. 』
『 A tool created by the first Blackwood ancestor, the one who founded our family a thousand years ago. 』
『 He foresaw a time when the family would fall. When our enemies would circle like vultures. When the name Blackwood would be forgotten. 』
『 He created me to prevent that. 』
Ethan’s brow furrowed. "How?"
『 By giving you the power to create what was lost. 』
『 By giving you the power to invent ancestors who will become real. 』
The words hung in the air.
Ethan waited for the system to elaborate, to explain, to make sense. When it didn’t, he asked the obvious question.
"You want me to invent ancestors."
『 Yes. 』
"And they’ll become real."
『 If enough people believe in them. 』
Ethan shook his head. "That’s impossible."
『 Is it? 』
"You’re asking me to lie. To fabricate history. To create fictional people and somehow make them real."
『 I am asking you to tell stories. 』
『 Stories have power, Host. More power than you know. 』
『 When people believe in something, truly believe, it becomes real. That is the foundation of this system. That is the power your ancestors wielded. 』
Ethan stared at the blank pages of the book.
"This is insane."
『 Perhaps. But you have nothing else. 』
The words struck harder than they should have.
Because they were true.
Ethan sat on the cold stone floor, his back against the pedestal, the book open in his lap.
He had spent the last hour asking questions, and the system had answered every one. Some answers made sense. Others didn’t. But piece by piece, a picture was forming.
The system allowed him to create "ancestors"—fictional figures from the Blackwood Family’s past. By spreading stories about them, creating evidence, and convincing family members to believe, he could increase something called Story Credibility.
Once credibility reached a certain threshold, he could manifest the ancestor into reality.
The ancestors would be real. Flesh and blood. With their own personalities, abilities, and memories.
But there was a cost.
『 Every manifestation requires a sacrifice. 』
『 The greater the ancestor, the greater the price. 』
Ethan’s jaw tightened. "What kind of sacrifice?"
『 It depends on the ancestor’s nature. 』
『 Warriors drain physical vitality. Sages drain memories. Tricksters drain luck. Healers drain lifespan. 』
『 The cost is paid by the family, not by you. 』
Ethan’s blood ran cold. "The family pays?"
『 The family benefits. The family pays. It is the balance. 』
"So if I create a powerful warrior ancestor, the entire family becomes weaker?"
『 Temporarily. The vitality returns over time. But the cost is real. 』
Ethan closed his eyes.
The family was already weak. Already struggling. Could he truly ask them to sacrifice what little they had left?
『 You are thinking like a servant, not a leader. 』
Ethan opened his eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
『 Leaders make hard choices. They sacrifice the few to save the many. They accept short-term pain for long-term gain. 』
『 The Blackwood Family is dying. You can either watch it fade into nothing, or you can take action, even if that action has a price. 』
Ethan stared at the blank pages.
The system was right.
He hated that it was right.
"What do I need to do?" he asked finally.
『 To begin, you must choose your first ancestor. 』
『 This ancestor will be the foundation of everything that follows. Choose wisely. 』
Ethan thought for a long moment.
He thought about his family’s history. The warriors, the generals, the strategists who had built the Blackwood name. He thought about the stories Old Man Hemlock used to tell him. Tales of ancestors who had defended the mountain against impossible odds.
And he thought about what the family needed most right now.
Protection. Strength. Someone who could stand against the Ashford Family and their enforcers.
"I want a warrior," Ethan said. "Someone who can fight."
『 A warrior. 』
『 The cost will be physical vitality. The family will become weaker for a generation. 』
Ethan winced. "For how long?"
『 Until the ancestor’s debt is paid. This could take years. Decades. It depends on how much the family believes in him. How much faith they place in his legend. 』
"And if they don’t believe?"
『 Then the manifestation will fail. The cost will still be paid. But nothing will be gained. 』