Chapter 30: The First Thread of Chaos
The cavern beneath Wyrmglass thrummed with a low, steady hum, as if the very bones of the mountain held their breath. Shadows clung to the crags, lit only by the faint green glow emanating from the crystalline clusters embedded in the walls. Ashen stood before the enormous skeletal remains of the Starbeast, its ribcage arched like a cathedral vault above him. The others—Revyn, Keyven, and Kaelis—stood a short distance away, watching with guarded awe.
"These aren't just bones," Revyn murmured, crouching beside a jagged vertebra. His fingers hovered above the bone, not daring to touch. "They hum with remnants of something ancient. Like the residue of a battle between gods."
Keyven crossed his arms. "It's not just residue. It's concentrated chaos. The echoes of the beast's final roar... it still lingers."
Ashen took a breath and stepped forward. The moment his foot crossed the inner ring of the ribcage, a jolt of pressure clamped around his core. His pulse staggered. It wasn't pain—more like his soul being unraveled and rewoven in one motion.
The egg's essence, now integrated within him, pulsed in resonance.
Closer, a voice echoed in his mind. Not the dragon's voice—no, this was different. Older. Harsher. As though the bones themselves had memory.
Ashen stepped toward the skull. The beast's eye sockets were hollow, but within them glowed a faint lattice of chaotic runes, dancing like flickers of distant stars.
Kaelis approached slowly. "You feel it too?"
Ashen nodded. "It's calling to something in me."
He extended his hand.
A spark leapt from the skeletal maw, striking his palm.
The others stepped back as a ring of violet energy rippled outward, flattening the crystalline grass at their feet. Ashen didn't flinch. Instead, he gritted his teeth as the energy spiraled up his arm, carving jagged black symbols along his skin.
"It's awakening something..." he whispered. "Something buried."
From deep within his soul, a thread stirred.
He didn't understand it fully, but instinct guided him. He dropped to one knee, pressing both palms against the cold stone floor. Energy bled from his body, pooling into a circle beneath him. Symbols, complex and chaotic, burned to life in a swirling mandala.
Kaelis whispered, "He's forming a Chaos Seal... but without any script?"
Keyven's eyes narrowed. "No. He's weaving it from instinct. This isn't a spell. It's a technique."
And then it happened.
The bones around Ashen responded. Shards of Chaos essence, once dormant in the marrow, lifted into the air like dust in a rising wind. They gathered above him, spinning, funneling into the mark on his back that had remained dormant since his soul merged with the egg.
A roar—not physical, but soul-deep—rumbled through the cavern.
Ashen arched his back and cried out as a black-and-violet flame burst from his spine, coiling upward like a dragon's breath. The technique, still unnamed, spiraled around him in chaotic orbit.
And then it settled.
Ashen opened his eyes.
Gone was the weariness. In its place shimmered a depth that hadn't been there before. A glimpse of what Chaos could become when channeled with intent.
Revyn exhaled. "What… what did you just do?"
"I don't know what it's called," Ashen said, still kneeling. "But I felt it. Like reaching into a river of raw possibility and pulling out a thread."
Kaelis stepped forward, carefully. "You created a technique from Chaos? That's... not supposed to be possible at your level."
Ashen stood, brushing dust from his hands. "Maybe it wasn't me. Maybe it was the dragon. Or the beast. Or both. But this power—"
"—It's yours now," Keyven finished. "And it's only the first."
---
As the group exited the chamber, the cold wind of Wyrmglass returned. Night had fallen outside. The stars hung low, as if listening.
They found a temporary shelter within the outer walls of the ruin—stone halls abandoned by time but still warded by old formations. There, around a flickering campfire, they finally spoke of what lay ahead.
Revyn stirred the flames with a long iron stick. "You know, back in the Empire, techniques like that are regulated. Anything born from Chaos? Forbidden."
Kaelis raised a brow. "Yet here we are, watching one manifest before our eyes."
Keyven glanced at Ashen. "What will you call it?"
Ashen was silent for a while.
"Thread of Ruin," he finally said. "Because it felt like I pulled ruin from the void and gave it shape."
"Fitting," Revyn said. "A little dramatic, but fitting."
Ashen smiled faintly. "Chaos isn't subtle. Why should its name be?"
---
Cultivation Update:
Ashen Aras: Peak Martial Realm (unlocked his first Chaos technique: Thread of Ruin)
Revyn: Late Martial Realm (specialist in elemental convergence)
Keyven: Peak Martial Realm (close to Planet Realm)
Kaelis: Mid Martial Realm
---
Later that night, Ashen stood alone on a ledge overlooking the valley. The moon cast a silver glow across the mountain ridges, while Wyrmglass loomed like a slumbering titan behind him.
He focused inward.
The new technique—it wasn't just a move. It was a state. When summoned, it bent the environment subtly, altering the flow of natural energy. Birds avoided him. Wind flowed around him giving him a profound look.
More than power, it brought understanding.
Chaos, when wielded without intent, destroyed.
But when shaped...
It created.
He closed his eyes and summoned the Thread again. Just a flicker this time. A faint line of black-violet flame swirled around his palm, then faded.
There would be more. Techniques born not from manuals, but from feeling. From instinct. From the whispers of the egg inside him.
From the legacy of the dragon whose soul had once burned brighter than stars.
And Ashen would carry that legacy.
Not as a puppet of fate.
But as its defier.
He turned back to the campfire, unaware that far beyond the valley, something had stirred. The awakening of Chaos had not gone unnoticed.
In the shadows of the continent, watchers moved, keeping their eye on the events unfolding.
And the next storm had already begun to gather.
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