Chapter 45: Gene inheritance complete

The Aetheria Palace was under complete lockdown. The already tight security was drastically intensified with the sudden arrival of the Marquess's private force.

A heavy, oppressive atmosphere shrouded the place, vibrating with a shared, fierce urgency. Every staff member could sense the tension, heightened by the ominous absence of their lord. No one knew what had happened, and everyone was strictly forbidden from asking.

Servants and guards moved with a hasty, clipped purpose, gone were the casual strides as before. Pale faces were drawn tight with the cold knot of worry that had settled over the building. It felt as if the entire palace was holding its breath, waiting for disaster.

At the same time, deep beneath the Aetheria Palace.

The underground chamber felt like the dead heart of the castle, carved deep into the earth. Massive, uneven stones formed its walls, lined floor to ceiling with endless shelves of ancient, unreadable tomes—a stark contrast to the luxurious and refined appearance of the palace above. The air was stale and oppressive, thick with the scent of aged paper, cold dust, and unspoken tension. The silence felt brittle, ready to shatter.

At the center of the vast, circular stone floor stood a crucial altar. On top was the sleeping Gwyn, whose cracked skin had gradually stopped spreading, to the amazement of those present. Seven figures stood within the chamber, all wearing solemn expressions as they watched the cub, who looked as though she were simply resting peacefully.

But everyone knew the situation was far from peaceful. Not for Aslan, and certainly not for Lev.

The gene inheritance ceremony, while a private and sacred matter, should have been a joyous day. They were supposed to be preparing to invite important people, particularly Aslan's parents—the previous lords of Aetheria. Aslan hadn't yet informed them about the child, worried about disturbing their tour, and both were currently out of reach. He refused to use the emergency contact just for an announcement alone.

Those plans no longer mattered.

The priority had shifted. They needed to go through the ceremony immediately or risk losing their precious and newly found daughter.

On the way underground, they could feel Gwyn’s vitality slipping away, her heartbeat slowly weakening. Lev had nearly lost his mind, clutching the child tighter as though his grip alone could stop the inevitable. It was the most dreadful pain he had ever experienced—he could feel her life slipping through his fingers.

Aslan was in no better state. In the short time he had known Gwyn, he had come to love her fiercely, already envisioning a future for the three of them together. Yet fate seemed intent on cruelty, placing them again and again in situations where they could lose her. He blamed himself savagely for failing to protect his cub. If anything happened to her, he didn’t know how either of them would survive—especially Lev.

Just as they were losing hope, a sudden shift happened.

Lev came to an abrupt halt while everyone else rushed toward the secret chamber. His attention had never left the child in his arms, he had been using his mental strength to monitor her, desperately maintaining what little life force remained, enduring the painful drain of her vitality.

Then something unexpected happened. A foreign force brushed against his own, pushing his mental strength aside.

Lev nearly lashed out in instinctive fury—but the force didn’t attack. Instead, it reinforced Gwyn’s fading vitality. It felt like fresh blood pumping steadily through her small body.

Duchess Catherine noticed the anomaly first but said nothing, merely urging everyone forward. By the time they reached the chamber, Gwyn had stopped convulsing. Butler Felix and Captain Kael were already present, standing guard to ensure the elders could proceed undisturbed.

During the ceremony, no one was permitted to trespass or interrupt the cub while she accepted the genes, as any disturbance could cause irreversible harm. That was why this underground chamber had been created long ago—when Lev and Aslan realized they were unlikely to have a biological child and would instead need to adopt.

Marquess Maxxwell stood not far away, preparing the sealed container holding Marquess Aslan and Marchioness Lev’s genetic essence. The mixture was suspended within a specialized flask, combined with stabilizing agents designed to preserve viability and ensure a successful integration into the receiver’s body. The temperature was carefully regulated to precise tolerances required for genetic splicing.

These genes were heavily guarded by the Empire. Their storage location was known only to a select few secret dignitaries—identities kept hidden even from the Council of Elders. The Council’s role was limited solely to conducting the ceremony. Nearly every living shifter had their genes stored when the fertility crisis emerged. It was the last hope of preserving their bloodlines in this dwindling era.

Meanwhile, Duchess Catherine gently adjusted Gwyn’s position on the altar. The cub was stable now, her breathing even. As Catherine worked, her thoughts lingered on the mysterious intervention that had salvaged the situation. She then turned her gaze to the parents, who stood clutching each other tightly, drawing strength from their shared presence.

She inclined her head, beckoning them closer.

Her voice dropped into a low, formal cadence suited to the sacred chamber.

“Do you, Lev Knox Aetheria, and you, Aslan Aetheria, accept this child as your own biological cub, never to regret the bond or deny the adoption?”

Lev and Aslan bowed low, their voices solemn.

“We accept.”

“Do you swear to love and protect this child regardless of the outcome of this ceremony?” Catherine continued. “Do you swear to cherish her even if the inheritance leaves her without reason, or if she should ever fail to carry the Aetheria name with honor?”

Lev and Aslan lifted their heads, their shared resolve fierce and unwavering.

“We swear.”

Catherine’s eyes met theirs, the intensity of her gaze cold and absolute.

“Then swear upon the bond, in the sacred name of the Almighty Fenrir, that should you fail this responsibility, should you abandon this cub or break this vow, you will accept Fenrir's eternal punishment, in whatever form it may take.”

“We swear in the name of the Almighty Fenrir,” they replied in unison.

Determination was carved into their faces. Nearby, Butler Felix and Captain Kael shared the same solemn resolve, as though bound by the oath themselves.

Marquess Maxxwell carefully walked to the center of the altar where Gwyn was peacefully sleeping, unaware of her surroundings. The rising and falling of her small chest was now even, as if the earlier life-and-death situation had never happened.

He opened the flask with reverent care and withdrew a syringe far sturdier than its sleek design suggested. After a brief glance around the chamber, he moved forward and injected the gene fluid into the cub.

Everyone waited with bated breath, standing rooted in place, not moving, afraid that it would disturb the cub whose own gene was being altered. Nothing drastic happened on the surface, but they all knew the child was now undergoing the most crucial and important aspect of gene inheritance—what it meant to be a shifter, a part of House Aetheria, the chosen heir to the lion clan.

Then it happened.

The cracked skin slowly receded, healing inch by inch.

A collective breath was finally released, especially from Aslan and Lev.

Lev immediately buckled under the sudden relief, his pale face slowly regaining its color. Aslan, the family’s greatest pillar who had always remained standing regardless of the situation, collapsed beside him, looking as though all strength had drained from him. He hadn’t even noticed the blood seeping from his palms and the backs of his hands—wounds incurred when he snatched Lev’s hands to prevent him from hurting himself.

He had almost lost his daughter.

And he knew he would have lost Lev too.

Duchess Catherine chuckled, the sound like a clear bell signaling the arrival of a blessing.

“The gene inheritance is successful,” she announced. “We must wait for the child to awaken before a full inspection. In the coming days—perhaps months—your cub will undergo significant physical changes. You must be vigilant.”

She paused, her gaze sharpening. “I will remain here to help Gwyn manage her gift. You should know that she will no longer be able to wield mental strength. Her dominant gift will now govern her body.”

A faint smile curved her lips. “And finally, I imagine you wish to know which lineage she has inherited.”

Lev and Aslan exchanged a glance, the last traces of fear washed away.

“We don’t care what she becomes,” Aslan said hoarsely. “As long as she is healthy and safe. That is all we ask.”