Chapter 33: The Smoldering Pact
Ashen stood before the forge of Val'kyr, the last embers of the awakened Thread of Ruin still flickering at his fingertips. Kaelis' expression was unreadable, his mind clearly weighing the chaos-infused technique Ashen had just unleashed. Revyn, meanwhile, crouched at the forge's edge, examining the circular runes etched into its base.
Keyven leaned against the rusted remains of a collapsed pillar, one arm crossed over his chest, the other supporting his chin. "Thread of Ruin," he murmured, glancing at Ashen. "You know what that name means, right? That isn't some minor chaos echo. That's a forbidden weave—one tied to what the ancients feared most."
Ashen didn't answer immediately. His hands still trembled. Not from fear, but from resonance. The technique had pulled on something deep—something ancient and boundless within him. And he had felt it answer.
"It came to me on its own," Ashen said at last. "It responded to my will. I didn't shape it... not completely. It shaped itself through me."
Kaelis stood. "That makes it more dangerous than I thought. And you're more connected to that egg than even you know."
Ashen nodded. He didn't protest. Deep down, he felt it too. The remnants of the dragon's soul—the Stellar Chaos Dragon—woven within his own being, were not quiet. They stirred more with each technique he explored.
Revyn rose from the ground, his expression serious. "We need to talk about what comes next. Wyrmglass isn't safe anymore."
Ashen turned to him. "You think the flare from the Thread of Ruin attracted attention?"
"No," Revyn replied, his eyes dark. "I know it did. We need to move. The Cult of the Devouring Star has spies in the region. And unlike the Empire, they hunt Chaos signatures obsessively."
Keyven's expression hardened. "Then we go west. Toward the Shattered Cliffs. There's a place I know—a sanctuary once protected by the last of the Cloudbound Order. They used to shield themselves from spiritual surveillance."
Kaelis frowned. "That would mean crossing three warlord-controlled territories."
Ashen looked up. The sky above Val'kyr was no longer the soft pale blue it had been when they arrived. The clouds above churned with energy—subtle distortions that only a cultivator sensitive to Chaos would notice. It wasn't just the technique. Something else was stirring.
"We don't have a choice," Ashen said. "We move now. If we stay, we invite something worse."
---
By nightfall, they had left Val'kyr Forge behind, its fires cooling once more to ancient silence. They traveled under the cloak of darkness, their presence masked by Kaelis' shadow-woven illusions.
The journey toward the Shattered Cliffs was treacherous. Monstrous flora clawed at their path. Creatures mutated by broken ley lines shrieked from the distance. At one point, Ashen's group had to submerge in a shallow, acidic stream to avoid detection by a scouting Warlord patrol.
They moved in silence, each member lost in their own thoughts. Ashen's mind, however, was busy with more than fear or planning.
He could feel the Thread of Ruin beneath his skin. Not active, but coiled. Like a waiting serpent. He had glimpsed its potential during the first weave—how it could destabilize not just energy, but matter and intent.
The deeper he went into Chaos cultivation, the more he realized it wasn't about destruction. It was about entropy, yes, but also transcendence. It deconstructed illusions, boundaries, even limitations.
It stripped things bare.
---
They reached the edge of the Scorched Forest by the third day. The moon had taken on a sickly hue, reflecting the warped energy thick in the air. The Scorched Forest had once been a verdant belt around the continent's heart—until a Planet-level cultivator had detonated his core in rebellion.
"We're being followed," Kaelis whispered as they paused at the edge of a dead stream. "Four... no, five signatures. Martial-level, but fast."
Keyven drew a blade from his back, the edge humming with kinetic pulses. "Let's not wait for them to catch up."
Ashen nodded. "Revyn, with me. We'll split and draw them in. Kaelis, Keyven—circle back behind them and flank."
Within moments, the group dispersed into the shadows.
Ashen surged forward, his resonance amplifying with each step. He didn't draw upon the Thread of Ruin yet. Instead, he pulled from the natural chaos lines of the forest—the shattered energy paths left behind by the detonation.
He and Revyn reached a clearing where the energies twisted like a vortex. There, the pursuers emerged—masked figures clad in bone-twined armor. Cult of the Devouring Star.
"Ashen Aras," one said, voice muffled through a spirit-filtered mask. "Surrender the chaos fragment within you. It does not belong to mortals."
Ashen tilted his head. "Neither do your lies."
They attacked without warning.
Revyn unleashed a blade arc, slicing through the first two, but three more moved like shadows around him. Ashen raised his hand—and the Thread of Ruin began to manifest.
It slithered like a tendril of space itself unraveling. It did not glow. It absorbed light. As he wove it forward, the lead cultist's body destabilized mid-motion—his limbs drifting apart in violation of natural law.
Chaos consumed predictability.
Kaelis and Keyven struck from the flanks, eliminating the remaining cultists in moments. When it was over, Ashen stood over their remains, breath steady.
He wasn't tired.
He was awakening.
---
After the fight, they made camp at the edge of the cliffside.
"They were weak," Keyven muttered, poking at the cultist gear. "Too weak for a group supposedly tracking Chaos."
"They weren't scouts," Revyn said. "They were offerings. Bait, meant to delay us."
Kaelis agreed. "Something stronger is coming. We can't stay in one place long."
Ashen sat cross-legged on a smooth obsidian boulder, his mind descending into cultivation.
His current level—Early Planet Realm—was on the verge of Solidifying. The fight, the usage of the Thread of Ruin, the resonance with the shattered forest's ley lines—it had all catalyzed.
He could feel the strength in his body.
Planet Realm.
Revyn, already Late Martial Realm, stood watch nearby. Keyven, Mid Martial Realm, busied himself with traps. Kaelis, whose cultivation remained cloaked in shadow, moved like someone on the brink of Early Planet Realm, but hadn't revealed the full truth.
Ashen breathed deeply, feeling the planetary magnetic field pulse with energy. His body had begun to align with it, his blood responding to the rhythm of the land.
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