NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1006: Memories
Soon, the Memory Fragments that he had absorbed started getting too much…
He needed to calm the memories he had just absorbed.
Just like that, Vale sank into meditation, his soul touched the memory fragments embedded deep in his mind…
They were fragmented memories of the Immortal Corpse, but they were all important memories.
Soon, the air around him shifted, and in a few moments, reality fell away.
His consciousness was drawn inward, into a torrent of fractured memories that didn't belong to him.
'Hmmm…' Vale calmly observed the memories.
Still, it was difficult not to get immersed as he was seeing things from the view of the Immortal.
Thankfully, Vale had done this a lot of times, so he could control himself and remain calm no matter what kind of memory he saw.
This time, the Immortal's name was Orrin Thalos.
He was born in the lesser territories beneath the Blackdawn Peaks of the Shadow Realm…
It was a place long devoured by war and unimportance.
Contrary to Vale's expectation, the Immortal wasn't born into greatness or privilege—his parents were herbalists, respected in their village, but powerless.
Orrin was the eldest of five siblings. From a young age, he had been responsible and thoughtful, though distant at times. But he was always dreaming of a better future…
Soon, he had heard the call of something greater.
He was ten when the plague came.
It took two of his siblings in the span of a week. His father next. His mother survived long enough to administer the antidote to the villagers, but she died before Orrin could say goodbye.
He buried them all himself.
He was only eleven then…
That day, something inside Orrin broke… or perhaps, awoke. He had become an Arcanist. Unfortunately, without a teacher or a school to teach him, he could barely use the Arcane Energy within his body. He couldn't even choose an Arcane Path to practice.
The next memories came swiftly…
Orrin, at thirteen, was already hunting dark beasts with nothing but poisoned arrows and used cheap weapons from Arcane Practitioners.
Orrin, at fifteen, was hired by a wandering Runecaster who taught him how to etch runes in bone and wood.
Orrin, at seventeen, was standing over a noble's corpse with the first taste of vengeance burning in his blood.
Indeed, it was vengeance. The noble was supposed to take care of their territory during the plague, but they were the first ones to leave the place instead.
Although they only wanted to save themselves,
He wasn't a good man. But he was becoming a powerful one.
Then, what came next was his Awakening.
Shane curiously looked at these memories…
He saw a shattered altar. A buried relic. A spark of cursed divinity that surged into him when he least expected it.
He convulsed in agony for three days, cocooned in a ruined temple.
And when he emerged… the mortal shell was gone.
He had become a Half-Immortal through a different method that Vale knew…
'So that's where the Cursed Divinity had come from… It's indeed different from the corrupted ones.' Vale muttered after understanding a few more things about the Cursed Divinity that he had extracted before.
Orrin's lifespan had expanded overnight. But it came at a cost…
For nearly a hundred years, Orrin wandered the Twilight Deserts, hunting corrupted spirits and remnants of the old Immortals. To be exact, he had become a Tomb Raider… or a Grave Robber.
"Interesting…" Vale muttered as he obtained more memories about Rune Crafting…
Orrin learned how to forge runes directly into bone. How to bottle soul fragments. How to trap the dying wish of a man and turn it into a blade.
He became obsessed—not with power, but with longevity…
He feared death. Not for himself, but for what he had lost.
He still dreamed of his family. Heard their laughter in the wind. Saw their faces in every innocent life he failed to save…
'What a pitiful guy…' Vale muttered…
Orrin then joined a small order of Ascendants called the Night Scribes.
They studied complicated arts like Soul Binding, Dimensional Anchoring, and Spirit Reintegration.
Then, his talents caught the eye of a High Immortal named Velvaire, who told him bluntly:
"You are cursed, boy. But you may yet learn to master the curse. Or let it master you."
Long story short, Orrin chose mastery.
He began fusing Shadow and Curse-based Spell Models into his blood, branding his own soul with arrays that tore into his body whenever he cast.
It made him stronger.
Faster.
And eventually, he took the final step and became Immortal.
Vale now saw the moment of his Ascension.
It was nothing compared to Vale's Ascension…
Well, he was somewhat assisted by the Divine Extraction System at that time… On the other hand, Orrin's Ascension needed a lot of preparations.
A location filled with Spiritual and Dark Energy, Formation Arrays, Immortal Artifacts, Rituals, and others…
Still, he succeeded…
Then, he spent the next two centuries creating Living Constructs—not puppets, but sentient objects forged from tethered souls.
Interestingly enough, there were actually varied reactions from the souls that he had used…
Some wept when they awoke, others screamed, but there were souls who were gratefull…
Vale heard one said, "Thank you," and followed Orrin until the end.
'So it was like that…' Vale understood Orrin's vision.
He wasn't cruel. He believed that no soul should be left to drift without purpose.
Even if that purpose… was bound servitude.
Unfortunately, he started getting greedy… It was never enough.
He kept searching for them.
His mother. His father. His siblings.
He bargained with soul merchants. Walked into the Soul Furnace to try to find a piece—just one fragment—of the people he lost.
However, he found nothing.
And so, in his final years, he found the Death God…
Unfortunately, the vision faded at this point…
However, Vale could already guess what had happened, considering how the corpse was filled with the Death God's Essence…
Vale gasped as he returned to himself… He was back to reality and the memories remained.
"Now I understand," Vale whispered.
He then bowed his head slightly toward the ashes that used to be the corpse.
"Rest well, Orrin. Your legacy won't be wasted."