NOVEL NEXT Chapter 127: The Heart of the Cradle
"Alright, Bennu," I said, a grin of pure, incredulous excitement spreading across my face. "Show me."
The great phoenix chirped in delight, a sound like a joyful earthquake, and turned, leading me away from his ash pile and towards the back of the cavern. He moved with a surprising grace for a creature his size, his great golden talons clicking softly on the crystalline floor. The sense of awe hadn't faded, but the initial shock was giving way to a frantic, all-consuming curiosity. I was a child who had stumbled into a lost hall of the gods, and my guide was the god's own hyperactive, oversized puppy.
We passed through a fissure in the rock that I hadn't even noticed, a crack in reality concealed behind an illusion of solid stone. The tunnel beyond was not natural. It was a perfectly carved corridor of obsidian, its walls and ceiling etched with flowing, interconnected runes that pulsed with a faint, dormant light.
"Most of the big arteries went cold a long time ago," Bennu's thoughts echoed, a hint of sadness in his voice. "The nexus… it's been sleeping. Just a little trickle of power left to keep the wards and the air fresh. Not enough to run the big machines." As he spoke, a bank of crystals set into the wall flickered with a faint, protesting red light. My Gaze told me it was a power conduit, and it was struggling to support even the dim illumination of the hallway.
"The runes need a spark," I murmured, more to myself than to him. I remembered Leoric, back in the Veiled Path, using a mote of his own mana to kickstart a dead Dweorg rune-engine. This was the same principle, on a godly scale. I reached out and placed my hand on the cool, obsidian wall. I focused, summoning not my raw mana, but a single, pure mote of Soulfire, a flicker of the white-hot solar flame of my own essence. It wasn't about power; it was about resonance. The song. I pushed it into the runic lines.
The effect was instantaneous and breathtaking. The single mote of Soulfire acted like a match to dry tinder. The faint red glow of the runes vanished, replaced by a brilliant, cascading wave of amber light that shot down the corridor, traveling faster than the eye could see. A deep, resonant hum, the sound of an impossibly powerful engine stirring from a long slumber, vibrated up through the floor. The entire Sanctum seemed to take a deep, contented breath. The light was no longer dim; the hallway was bathed in the warm, golden glow of a thousand awakened stars.
"You did it! You woke it up!" Bennu chirped, hopping from foot to foot. "See? It just needed a little song!"
He led me on, and with every chamber we entered, my understanding of my own Sanctum, the humble 'castle' I had been so proud of, was utterly shattered. This place wasn't just more advanced than the Veiled Path. It was a different order of creation altogether. We entered a chamber that must have been a forge, but there were no anvils, no hammers. The room was dominated by a suspended, quiescent star, a miniature sun of pure, contained plasma held in place by a cage of intricate, silvery runes. Dormant fabrication arms, like the limbs of hibernating metal insects, lined the walls, each tipped with a different conceptual tool: one that seemed to weave matter, another that carved reality, a third that folded space. Leoric would have a religious experience in this room.
The next was a library, a circular chamber that soared up into the darkness. But there were no books, no scrolls, no data-slates. Instead, millions of flawless, fist-sized crystals were embedded in the walls, each one containing a shimmering, multi-colored light. It was a library of memories, a vault of pure, recorded thought. Kasian would likely never leave this room if he saw it. I touched a crystal, pushing another mote of Soulfire into it. A soft, feminine voice, ancient and wise, bloomed in my mind, not speaking, but simply being, a stream of consciousness detailing the principles of conceptual terraforming.
And with every system I reignited, with every door I opened with my soulfire, my song, I could feel the dormant defenses of this place stirring around me. They weren't hostile. They were… expectant. A ward I hadn't noticed before, a shimmering, razor-thin film of pure force, would flicker into existence and then recede as it recognized my presence. Turrets of polished obsidian would silently emerge from the walls, their focusing lenses glowing with lethal intensity, before dimming and retracting, recognizing my soulfire as friendly. I saw glyphs on the floor flare with the conceptual weight of Annihilation and Stasis, lethal traps for any thief or intruder, and then fade back to inert etchings, welcoming me home. Without the flame of Enki singing in my soul, I would have been turned to less than dust a hundred times over.
We finally reached a chamber deep in the heart of the complex, one even larger than the library. Its purpose was singular and unmistakable. It was a records hall, dedicated to a single, profound subject.
"The Soul Tree," I read, my fingers tracing the glowing runes above the archway.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
I lit the chamber with a touch, and what I saw laid out before me in a series of holographic displays and carved murals was the secret history of my entire race, the genesis of what I knew as Soul Abilities.
The lore was breathtaking in its scope. After arriving on this new, Essence-starved world, the first refugees — the Essence cultivators — realized their bloodlines were diluting. As they fell in love and started families with the native humans, their immense personal power was being spread thin, breaking apart into smaller, more specialized streams. These became known as Soul Branches. It was the birth of hereditary magic. I saw depictions of a noble, regal lineage that passed down the soul ability [The King's Tithe], allowing its wielder to draw a fraction of the strength of those who swore fealty to them. Another showed a line of judges and arbiters, their eyes glowing as they used [Truth's Glimpse] to unerringly separate lies from truth. A third mural depicted a figure shifting his form, his energy signature changing completely, a perfect act of deception. The ability was labeled [Anu's Veil], a name that resonated with another half-remembered myth.
And then I found the core of it all, the reason for the Last War Bennu had spoken of. At the very center of the hall, on a pedestal of its own, was the history of the most feared powers: the Primordial abilities. These weren't just simple inherited skills. They were fragments of a deeper, foundational magic, truths of reality itself. And one of the most feared of all was Time.
"They hated it so much, Enki," Bennu's thoughts turned somber, the joy leeching from his voice. The light of his being cast a sad, flickering shadow of an armored figure wielding an hourglass against a horde of faceless enemies. "The ability to Unwind a moment. The power to Glimpse. The curse of seeing all ends and all beginnings. The Old Empires, with their Systems and their rigid laws, they saw it as the ultimate heresy. A power that operated outside the rules of their game. They could control space, matter, energy… but they could not control time. Someone who could see a future they hadn't written, or rewind a past they had already won… that was a truth they could not allow to exist."
It clicked into place with horrifying clarity. Anna's [Rewind]. My [Glimpse of a Path]. We were the inheritors of the ultimate crime. The very reason our ancestors, our entire civilization, had been purged. The great, galactic war hadn't been about conquest. It had been an inquisition. A galaxy-wide witch hunt to exterminate anyone who could rewrite the story.
A deep, cold fury began to burn in my gut. Vayne and her stories about a galactic plague… the irony was a bitter, choking thing. They weren't fighting a devourer. They were the devourers. They consumed any truth, any power, that didn't fit into their neat, controllable reality.
As I wrestled with the enormity of this revelation, Bennu, sensing my dark mood, chirped brightly. "This room is so gloomy! All history and sad stories! Come, come! You always liked the shiny room best! I kept it perfect for you!"
He led me down another corridor and to a final, great vault, sealed by a door even larger and more ornate than the one at the main entrance. I placed my hand on its surface, poured a river of my Soulfire into its cold metal skin, and it swung open with a groan that echoed with the weight of ages.
I stopped. I stared. The room beyond was a cavernous space, but unlike the sterile function of the other chambers, this was a dragon's hoard made manifest. Piles of quintessence crystals, glowing with every color of the rainbow, rose in glittering mountains that nearly touched the ceiling. Racks of armor, each piece a masterpiece of enchanted metal and captured starlight, stood like silent, gleaming sentinels. I saw a shield forged from the heart of a fallen star, its surface swirling with a captive nebula. I saw a set of leather armor, black as the void, that seemed to bend light around it, an ultimate tool of stealth. Weapons of every shape and size rested in glowing racks — swords that hummed with a conceptual sharpness, spears that pulsed with the heart of a storm, bows strung with the light of a dying sun. And the crafting materials… there were ingots of Orihalcum, bricks of perfectly stable solid-state mana, petrified hearts of ancient elementals, the shed feather of a cosmic Roc. It was a treasure trove beyond the wildest dreams of any artificer. It was a god's personal armory.
My System Storage, one of the best advantages of my Sanctum Shop, the vault I thought could supply a small army, couldn't hold even a hundredth of what lay before me. The thought was laughable. This… this could supply an entire galactic crusade. This single room contained more real, tangible power and wealth than the entire Kyorian Empire probably possessed on this planet.
"Bennu," I said, my voice hoarse with awe, "this is… unbelievable."
"You said to keep it safe! So I did!" he replied, preening with pride.
A new problem, a glorious, wonderful problem, presented itself. I couldn't possibly move all of this. It belonged here. This entire place… it was our inheritance now. A massive hoard that could give us the fighting chance we needed.
"How do I do it, Bennu?" I asked, turning to the great phoenix. "How do I integrate this place with my own Sanctum? Truly make it a part of my power?"
He tilted his head, a simple, innocent answer blooming in our minds.
"Well… you just have to wake it up, of course!" he chirped. "The nexus. It's been sleeping for a very, very long time. But its heart is still beating, just very softly. It's tired, and it needs a very, very big song to wake it up again." He looked at me, his golden eyes glowing with an absolute, unwavering faith. "If you pushed yourself, Enki… if you poured all of your own fire into it… I think you could do it. I think your song is loud enough."
The proposition hung in the air, audacious and terrifying. To merge my own, fledgling Level 4 Sanctum with this… this ancient, dormant, godly fortress. The sheer power required would be immense, the risk of failure catastrophic. But the reward… the reward would be to become a dragon in a world of bears. It was a gamble on a scale I had never imagined. But then I looked at the treasure piled before me, at the secrets I had already uncovered, and I knew it was a gamble I had to take.