Chapter 27 – Storms That Walk in Flesh
Ashen Aras stood at the mouth of the crumbling gate, the burnt sigils of the Furnace Ruins smoldering behind him. The Guardian was gone. The echo of its voice faded, but its warnings coiled around his thoughts like silent serpents.
Around him, the air shimmered with distortion. Chaos energy pulsed faintly beneath his skin—subtle, yet furious. His senses were heightened, and his body felt light. At the Peak Martial Realm, Ashen could now challenge opponents above his stage, thanks to the partial awakening granted by the egg—the Royal Stellar Chaos Dragon Egg—now fused with his soul.
Revyn fell into step beside him, his twin swords still sheathed across his back. Though slightly injured from a minor Guardian trap earlier, he remained alert.
Revyn was at the Late Martial Realm, one step below Ashen. His strength lay not in overwhelming power but adaptability and finesse. He wasn't one to boast, but Ashen had witnessed firsthand how lethal Revyn could be with blades and brain alike.
"You don't feel it?" Ashen asked suddenly, eyes narrowing at the horizon.
Revyn inhaled deeply. His brows furrowed. "...A storm. Several auras. One of them is—" He trailed off.
"—Peak Martial or higher," Ashen finished. "And one more… unstable."
The chaos within Ashen rippled. He couldn't quite identify what it was, but something beyond his newly expanded perception was watching.
They hadn't walked far before the wind shifted unnaturally. Thunder cracked—not from above, but from the earth itself. A tall figure stepped out from behind the shattered shell of a Furnace Pillar, flanked by four others.
Their leader was unmistakable.
Draped in a long cloak laced with symbols of the Crimson Empire, the man radiated danger. A long spear was strapped to his back, etched with lightning runes and blood gems. His hair was a pale silver, his eyes devoid of warmth.
Seric Darnel – Early Planet Realm.
A direct enforcer of the Crimson Empire. One of the hunting hounds let loose on rogue awakeners.
Behind him were two warriors at Peak Martial, and two at Mid Martial. All wore the crimson insignia of the Empire's covert cultivation enforcers.
Seric stepped forward and spoke, voice calm, yet thunderous. "Ashen Aras. You have something that does not belong to you."
Ashen didn't move. "I earned what I have. Paid for it with pain. You're not taking anything."
"You misunderstand," Seric said. "That Power you merged with—"
"Was mine," Ashen cut in. "The ruin accepted me. The Guardian tested me. I survived."
Seric's gaze didn't flicker. "Then you should be proud. Most would've died. But now, you're too dangerous to leave unchecked."
Revyn stepped forward, voice dry. "I assume this is the part where you offer us a chance to surrender."
Seric chuckled. "No. This is the part where I test if the stories about the Chaos Bloodline are true."
He moved like a living bolt of lightning.
One moment he was still. The next—Seric's spear tore through the air, aimed straight for Ashen's heart. Ashen barely managed to step aside, chaos flaring as he twisted midair, avoiding the spear by an inch. The ground where he stood cracked, smoking.
Revyn was already in motion, blades drawn, intercepting one of the Peak Martial warriors, whose fists burned with fire Qi. Sparks flew as metal met flesh reinforced by condensed essence.
Ashen landed on a ruined slab, eyes glowing faintly violet as the chaos within him surged. He drew upon it—not fully, just a thread. Enough to shift the battle.
Seric appeared again—his spear a blur—and this time, Ashen caught it between both hands, grunting as raw kinetic force pushed him back several meters. His boots carved trenches in the dirt, but he didn't fall.
Seric's brow lifted slightly. "Chaos reinforcement. Impressive."
Ashen's response was a chaos-infused palm to the chest. Seric was blown back several feet but landed cleanly, unhurt. Still, the expression on his face had changed. Slightly more cautious.
The two lesser Martial cultivators rushed Ashen from both sides, blades whistling through the air.
Ashen closed his eyes for just a moment—then moved.
Chaos unfurled.
He blinked from one spot to another, his body wrapped in flickering trails of entropy. The first assailant found his blade striking nothing but shadow. The second never saw the counter-kick that sent him flying into a pillar.
Ashen stood still as stone, surrounded by tendrils of dissipating chaos. His breathing remained calm, measured.
Behind him, Revyn parried a flaming fist, spun low, and slashed upward. His opponent screamed, blood arcing. Revyn didn't stop—he flipped over and blocked a kick from the second enforcer, countering with a brutal stab to the shoulder.
Still battling two at once, he gritted his teeth. "A little help?"
Ashen grinned. "You're handling it fine."
"Smug chaos freak," Revyn muttered.
Then Seric moved again.
This time, he wasn't testing.
His spear turned into a cyclone of thunder. He launched a sequence of precision strikes, each aimed to kill. Ashen responded with chaos-enhanced speed, deflecting with his forearm, redirecting the force rather than meeting it head-on. The technique wasn't flashy—but it was efficient.
And yet—Seric was faster.
A glancing blow caught Ashen's side, tearing through his outer layer of protection. Blood sprayed. Ashen staggered, hissing in pain.
"You're not used to it yet," Seric said, stepping closer. "The chaos. It listens to you, but it doesn't obey. Not fully. You can't predict it."
Ashen's fingers tightened.
"You're right," he said. "But it doesn't need to obey."
He pressed his palm to the ground.
From beneath, chaos erupted in a radial shockwave.
The very laws of the terrain broke momentarily—spikes of twisted earth and dark light burst upward, throwing Seric and the others off-balance. Revyn used the distraction to finish one opponent with a clean slash to the neck and pivoted to face the second.
Ashen leapt toward Seric, chaos swirling in his fist. He aimed directly for the heart.
Seric responded with a counter—his spear bursting with thunder Qi. Their powers collided midair. Chaos and lightning clashed, spiraling into a deafening explosion that threw both combatants apart.
Ashen rolled to his feet, panting. His shoulder was seared, and his side throbbed. But Seric—Seric bled from the nose and knuckles, his calm cracked.
"You…" Seric wiped the blood and stared. "You weren't lying. The Dragon's Will lives in you."
Ashen stepped forward, chaos curling behind him like wings made of dusk.
"No," he said. "It fights with me."
Behind him, Revyn limped up, both blades red. "The others are down. What now?"
Seric clicked his tongue, then stepped back. "This isn't over. The Empire won't let this stand. You're a threat to their dominance. And they will come—"
"They already have," Ashen interrupted. "You lost."
Seric's eyes burned. "This isn't loss. It's a delay."
He slammed a talisman to the ground, vanishing in a burst of smoke.
Ashen exhaled slowly. The field was silent. The storm had passed.
But the thunder still echoed in his bones.
—
They retreated into the ruins of a collapsed observatory at the edge of the Furnace Zone. Revyn tended to his wounds with a bitter tincture, wincing.
Ashen sat alone, staring at his bloodstained hand.
The Peak Martial Realm had once felt like a distant dream. But now, having faced a Planet Realm cultivator and lived, he knew what lay ahead.
He wasn't ready to fight a full Planet Realm opponent in a prolonged battle—not yet. Not without fully mastering the chaos. But the egg had awakened something ancient. And it wasn't done with him.
Revyn looked over. "You alright?"
"No," Ashen replied. "But I'm alive."
Revyn smiled faintly. "That's a start."
Outside, the wind howled. The world was watching now. The Empire would not stop here
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