Ethan Cole - The Unlimited System

The observatory stood like a forgotten monument, buried in silence.

No one had stepped foot here in years. Its walls, worn by wind and time, held stories no one cared to remember.

The vines crawling up the stone pillars had made it their home, and the shattered glass of its once-great dome let in rays of cold sunlight, cutting long shadows across the cracked floor.

Alden sat near the entrance, arms draped loosely over his knees. He stared at the floor, then at Hera, who was crouched at the center of the circular room, her hands trailing over faint runes carved into the stone tiles.

They hadn't spoken for a while.

Then his voice broke the stillness.

"Do you really think this plan will work?"

Hera didn't answer immediately.

She traced another line across the dirt, her fingertip glowing faintly as a soft breeze circled her wrist. Then she looked up, her lips curling into a small, teasing smile.

"What happened to the White Fang?" she said, tilting her head. "Is this the same man who once made the Empire scramble like ants just to track him down?"

Alden exhaled, half-laughing, half-nervous. "I was… different then."

"Different how?"

He hesitated, then scratched the back of his head. "When it took over… I don't remember anything. Just flashes. And blood."

The air shifted.

Hera's smile faded.

She rose to her feet, dusting off her robes, and then walked over to a column carved with ancient runes. Her fingers hovered near them but didn't touch.

She stood there quietly for a few breaths.

"My master told me something once," she said softly.

Alden looked up.

"She said there are powers in this world we're not supposed to carry. Not because they're too strong... but because they don't belong to us."

Her voice was slow. Careful. Almost reverent.

"She told me that what's inside you, Alden… wasn't born in Anterra."

The silence between them grew heavier.

"She called it Vaelgrin."

Hera turned to face him. Her eyes were steady like she was repeating a truth too ancient to forget.

"The White Wolf King," she said.

Alden didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

Hera continued her voice now slower, like a storyteller remembering each word.

"Vaelgrin was one of the Twelve Kings of Igrathar, a world not like ours. A realm where the skies burn in shades we've never seen, and mountains breathe like living things. A world ruled by beasts so old they stopped naming time."

She took a breath.

"They weren't gods. Just... monsters. Ancient. Powerful. And proud. But not all of them stayed loyal to their world."

Her eyes dropped to the floor.

"Igrathar has been at war for centuries. Not with humans, not even with us. But with demons. Creatures that burn through worlds. And now… some of those Kings have joined the demons' side."

A chill swept through the ruined chamber.

"And Vaelgrin?" Alden finally asked. "Where does he stand?"

Hera looked at him again.

"He stood to protect but..." she said quietly, taking a pause before adding, "When the world began to fall, he sent his power across the void."

"To me?"

"To someone broken enough to hold it," she said. "Not because of strength. But because of pain."

Alden's breath caught.

He looked down at his hands.

Even now, they trembled faintly. Not from fear… but from something deeper. The stirrings of something old.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"…You think this power has a will?"

"I think it remembers," Hera said. "And I think it chose you not just to survive, but to fight back. To end something that started long before our world was ever born."

For a while, neither of them spoke.

And Ethan?" Alden asked. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Hera gave a small smile. "He's not like us. He's more stubborn. He carries his own kind of madness. And right now, he's exactly where he needs to be."

Alden didn't reply. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers slowly.

Vaelgrin's power still slept inside him. But he knew it would not be for long.

Because he could feel that the time was near. The time when he needed to remove the limiter.

And when it did, the world would hear the White Fang howl once more.

***

The faint glow of embers shimmered along the edge of the Flame Dragon Sword in Ethan's hand as he pressed it lightly to the wall.

His hands were still cuffed, he chose not to destroy it yet even though he could with his strength. He believed that each cuff was made according to the captives' strength.

He was assumed to be a One-Star Vessel so his cuff was pretty weak. Ethan didn't mind that. His eyes were focused on the wall.

Sparks hissed. Stone cracked.

He had to be careful. He couldn't use too much strength, or he'd blow through the entire wall and alert the guards.

He couldn't even use too little, or the surface would remain untouched.

"Nice. This will do," he whispered but everyone could hear he was excited with what he was doing.

The Flame Dragon Sword pulsed with heat, its breath-like warmth seeping through his grip as he carved small lines into the blackened wall. With each slow pass, he chipped away at the material, not to break free, but to study the texture.

The stone wasn't like anything he'd seen before.

It dulled the heat faster than normal rock, but it wasn't fully resistant. It was absorbing a portion of the sword's fire… no, suppressing it.

After several minutes, he pulled back and studied the exposed material beneath the top layer.

There it was again. That shimmer.

Not bright. Not obvious. But when the flame passed over the cracks, the inner core of the wall gleamed with faint silver veins, laced with a pale green hue.

Drakiel Stone.

Ethan exhaled softly.

'Alright. I think I've got the shape and color down. If I ever run into this stuff again, I'll recognize it.'

He ran a finger along the groove he'd cut, memorizing the texture, the way it responded to heat. He even stored the small Drakiel Stones he managed to get in the Inventory.

Behind him, a voice spoke up.

"What do you need that stone for?"

It was the Lower Three-Star man, the one who had questioned him earlier. His voice wasn't hostile, just curious, maybe even tired.

Ethan turned his head slightly. "Let's just say… I've got a project in mind. This stone's pretty rare where I'm from. Would be a shame not to take advantage of it while I'm here."

The man grunted softly, like someone too worn out to laugh properly. "It's rare everywhere. One needs to pay a high price to get it."

Before Ethan could respond, a second voice followed, sharper and more pointed.

"Aren't you supposed to be a Vessel?"

It came from the Lower Three-Star woman across the cell. She was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, pale hair tied behind her neck. Her cuffs glinted faintly in the low light.

"You don't seem affected at all," she continued. "That chain's supposed to shut us down. And yet, here you are, wielding a sword like you're just visiting."

The other two, both Higher Two-Star, turned to look at him, interest lighting their hollow eyes.

Ethan blinked, then hesitated.

What was he supposed to say?

'I'm not really a Vessel?'

'I'm from another world?'

'The system hasn't fully activated my Ascendant Energy yet?'

None of that would make sense to them. Or worse, they'd think he was mocking them.

"Maybe," Ethan said slowly, "it's because I haven't awakened like the rest of you."

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Meaning?"

"I don't have… that energy inside me yet. Whatever you feel being drained, I don't think I've got it in the first place."

The silence was heavy for a few moments.

Then the woman leaned her head back against the wall. "Hmph. Bullshit."

"Yeah," Ethan muttered. "Bullshit."

In truth, he didn't care about what they thought about him. He just wanted to complete his mission as quickly as he could. He would think and find the reason why he was not affected later when he had free time.

He believed that only when he connected with one of the elements, he would be affected by this Drakiel Stone. As of now, he wasn't yet bound to the same laws of suppression as the others.

And the Flame Dragon Sword? That wasn't tied to Ascendant Energy either. Maybe it was fueled by Kaelthor's legacy, something deeper, older… something completely foreign to Anterra's magic systems.

That alone made it the perfect tool here.

Ethan didn't answer the others.

Their voices faded into the background as his thoughts drifted elsewhere, toward plans only he could understand.

His hand pressed lightly against the wall again. The Drakiel Stone was firm, cold, and oddly silent in his senses. A stone that didn't hum with energy, but swallowed it whole. A predator disguised as a prison.

'When should I start mining everything?' Ethan wondered as he sat against the cool stone wall, eyes scanning the cell once more.

The Drakiel Stone wasn't unlimited, but it covered nearly every surface—the walls, the cuffs, even the floor beneath them. And now, after a few quiet hours, he was sure of something else.

No guards had come.

Not once.

Not even a shadow passed the barred window.

'Maybe they'll only come when the ritual's about to start,' he thought. 'They must be confident none of us can break out of here. Overconfident.'

He tilted his head toward the others, all still bound and silent. Four Vessels, all drained by the cuffs. But all still breathing. Still alive.

He leaned forward slightly and said, loud enough for all of them to hear, "Do you guys want to escape?"

At first, no one responded.

One of the women blinked and looked at him as if he had lost his mind. The younger man gave a quiet scoff and looked away. Even the older, stone-skinned man shook his head slightly as if dealing with a fool.

The silence pressed in for a moment longer.

But then… they saw it.

Since nobody responded to him, Ethan stood and walked toward the far wall. Calmly. Without strain.

He raised the Flame Dragon Sword and drove its edge lightly against the surface, scraping away a thin sliver of Drakiel Stone. The noise was sharp and clean. A shard fell to the ground.

He crouched and picked it up between his fingers, rolling it once in his palm.

No sign of pain. No weakening. No dizziness.

He stood tall again, completely unaffected by the same stone that kept the rest of them shackled and silent.

Now, their gazes changed.

Skepticism shifted into something else.

Not belief. Not yet.

But doubt.

Not the kind that dismissed him, this was different. It was the kind that made them second-guess everything they thought they knew about him.

Doubt that Ethan was just a loudmouth. Doubt that he was just another helpless prisoner like them.

They exchanged quiet glances, their expressions shifting from weariness to a cautious sort of curiosity.

Then, one by one, their eyes returned to him.

'Is he really capable of escaping with all of us?'

The question hung in the air like smoke, unspoken, but impossible to ignore.