The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

"Is anyone else tired of this blasted war, or is it just me? Don't we have larger problems looming in our future?"

Not so secret whisperings of his royal highness,

Prince Hadrian Ragnar.

Ragnarök's Capital, year 2272.

Command center, Ragnarök's Capital.

Two days after Sunstone's retaliation, the generals of Ragnarok gathered together in the command center to discuss and make plans. This was the first time they were meeting like this ever since their meeting to discuss the plague wraiths a few months ago.

Unfortunately for General Lucas Deaton, they weren't here to celebrate or enjoy each other's company, but to plan out their retaliation after Sunstone's brutal attack. He had to admit that it was slowly becoming a chore, but as a general, he had no choice but to attend.

There were eleven other generals present, each one representing a sector, and at the head of the table was Supreme General Daystar, who gazed at all of them with an unreadable expression, his calamity irises glowing with a cosmic power that pierced a person's soul whenever their gazes locked.

This piercing gaze lingered on Deaton for a moment before moving on to the general by his side. The woman jerked the moment the Supreme's gaze landed on her, and Deaton suppressed a smile, knowing exactly how it felt to feel the tremendous weight of a calamity's gaze resting on one's soul.

The woman in question was the latest addition to the Council of Generals and was acting as Cerindale's replacement on the council. She was nothing like his dead friend, though. Where Cerindale had been outspoken and loud, the woman was timid, or perhaps, the more appropriate word was careful. And who could blame her considering the fact that being outspoken was the exact trait that had killed her predecessor?

Despite the informal nature of these meetings, the woman was dressed in full armor, her entire body clinking as she adjusted awkwardly on the seat. Deaton didn't understand why she was dressed in full armor, since mythics barely had cause to take part in any battle, but he supposed she wanted to make a good impression. Deaton wasn't sure it was working.

The Supreme's piercing gaze moved on to the next person, and the woman sighed in relief, the sound of her exhale nearly too loud in the silence of the chamber. The oppressive silence continued for a while, and the woman—visibly anxious—leaned forward to whisper. "Is he ever going to speak?"

"I should think so." Deaton chuckled, his voice low. "This is a meeting after all."

The woman nodded, slightly assured by his words. Deaton himself wasn't comfortable with the silence, but he had grown quite accustomed to the pressure of the Supreme's presence, enough so that he wasn't shaking like a leaf caught in a storm.

Two more minutes passed after their whispered conversation before Supreme Daystar finally spoke, his words cutting through the silence like a whip. "We have failed."

The declaration hung in the air for a second before he continued. "The king has sent word to me to express his displeasure and has ordered me to fix things immediately. Before we do that, though, I would like to know why things went so terribly wrong despite the measures we put in place to mitigate this very situation."

The generals shuffled, all aware of how incompetent Sunstone's attack had made them seem. They'd been caught unaware and underprepared, and their citizens had paid the bloody price.

Deaton glanced at his fellow generals, scanning their expressions, and when he saw that no one was eager to speak, he decided to do so himself. This didn't mean that Deaton had suddenly developed the courage of a dozen men, but that he had gotten to know the Supreme better in recent months and was less scared of losing his head.

He stood up and said. "We were lax in the construction of safe houses and bunkers. We didn't expect Sunstone's retaliation to be this swift or brutal. Our response to the threat wasn't fast enough. In sector 6, where the incursion had been immediately attended to by Champion Ryntharion, the death toll is much lower. These are my opinions, of course, but I believe this is why things went so quickly out of hand."

The Supreme nodded and then glanced at General Moonlake, who was seated several chairs to his left. "What about you and your scientists, Moonlake? Anything to add?"

Deaton sat back down, and Moonlake rose to her feet, adjusting her runic glasses hesitantly. "I have anything else to contribute, sir. General Deaton has said it all."

"So, you were all lax in your duties?" Supreme Daystar asked casually, but the words were as sharp as razors, and everyone stiffened.

"I…Supreme…" General Moonlake began, but her words weren't forthcoming. Fortunately, someone else decided to speak.

General Ilarion raised his hands and asked. "If I may speak, Supreme."

As one, all their gazes shifted to Ilarion, some in relief and others in fear. Ilarion was one of the oldest generals in Ragnarok, having served in the military for nearly two hundred years before getting promoted to the rank of general. He was also an earth awakened with spectacular power who had spent the last fifty years of his life refining his power as a Mythic.

Deaton wasn't sure what tier Ilarion currently stood at, but he was certain the man wasn't too far from his next evolution into the calamity class. Unlike the other generals, his face was barren of fear, yet the respect he had for the supreme was obvious, and his response showed that.

"General Deaton has spoken well, but I believe the real reason for our poor performance this time around is much simpler, and that is the fact that we have grown weary of the repetitive nature of this war. There is no excitement. No rush of adrenaline. No scream of danger. Time may have healed your wounds—"

"It hasn't healed my wounds." Supreme Daystar, he interjected, his voice as sharp as steel. "It hasn't healed that of our king. I still feel the pain of their betrayal and the death that came after as if it were yesterday."

"And yet even you are weary of this game that we call a war."

Ilarion's words shocked everyone because no one dared speak to the Supreme in such a manner, and Deaton half expected the Supreme to smite him down in an instant. Instead, the Supreme simply stared at him and waved a hand, saying, "Go on."

Ilarion nodded, a hint of relief in his expression, before proceeding. "For countless years, we have played by the rules of the Council of Lords, skirting around the rules that bind this war without outright breaking it, but we don't need to do that anymore. Sunstone has broken the rules when they took the life of innocent citizens. This gives us the chance to retaliate in a much greater fashion. This is our chance to go all out. To get excited again. To get invested. Look around, Supreme. Despite the thousands of our people who just died, how many expressions of distress or fury do you see?"

Before the supreme could even look around, Ilarion said. "The answer is none. We are like a machine that churns out the same product for centuries. The repetition is getting to us. We need to do something new, something exciting, something vastly different from the games of attack and retaliation we've been doing for the last hundred years. That is the real reason we're underperforming, because what is a war without bloodlust to drive us mad, to boil our blood, and send us teetering on the edge of insanity?"

Deaton sighed, blaming himself for hoping. At first he had been in agreement with Ilarion, but he wasn't quite sure he agreed with where the old man was taking his speech. He was tired of the war. Bloodlust or not. He wanted it to end.

Unfortunately, it seemed, only a few other generals were of the same opinion. Others nodded fervently in agreement, smiling and even cheering him on with well-timed hoots. Deaton couldn't blame them. This game of attack and retaliation was incredibly dull, but was more bloodlust the answer?

Muttering to himself, he frowned at Ilarion, who bowed and said. "Sunstone's actions have changed the dynamic of this war. They are out for blood, and it's high time we stepped up our game too. If they want blood, we should give it to them."

He sat down after that, and while the Supreme contemplated his words, Deaton glanced at Moonlake, whose face was twisted into a scowl. Her gaze met his, and Deaton realized that she might be the only other general who was as bone-weary of this war as he was. Oh, where was Cerindale when one needed him? He had such a way with words that Deaton could only dream of.

The Supreme looked up then, his expression unreadable as he leaned forward to speak. "I have heard your arguments, Ilarion, and I think there are some merits to it. However, the rules of war the Councils of Lords have laid down are important. This game of attacks and retaliation, as you call it, is what has kept this kingdom intact. Untamed war is not pretty, but I do believe we could increase the brutality of our retaliations, especially if it would make us all more productive, so I'll put it to a vote." He paused for a moment before proceeding. "All in favor of increased brutality, raise your hands."

One by one, hands went up, until a total of nine hands were raised, leaving only Deaton, Moonlake, Vesper—the woman who had replaced Cerindale—and General Beltharum, who seemed to only keep his hands down because the majority had already won.

It was a depressing sight for Deaton, who had really been looking forward to not really doing anything until Prince Hadrian took over the running of the kingdom and eventually called off the war once and for all. He had no idea when the king would be ascending, but he suspected it was very soon, a few months at most.

This vote was clearly not in his favor, and he frowned, briefly considering arguing against it, but quickly abandoned the idea when it became clear it would be a losing battle.

The Supreme glanced across the room, his piercing gaze lingering on Deaton and Moonlake for a moment before he spoke. "It is settled then. Sunstone has taken the war to the next level, and we will not tarry behind. However, before we discuss the matter of retaliation, we must first discuss the matter of how to prevent a disaster such as this from ever happening again.

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Hands shot into the air at once, each person eager to be the first to speak and share their idea. It was a stark contrast to the dull responses that question usually received that the Supreme smiled and gestured to the closest person to speak.

The closest general to the supreme was General Dominic, a hard-faced man with half Unorian origins. He was an ice awakened, a somewhat rare affinity in a kingdom like Ragnarok, and despite the fact that he was usually silent in meetings like this, his power was undeniable.

His suggestion though, wasn't.

To ensure such a disaster never happened again, he proposed a decisive strike on Sunstone's capital—a move meant to instill the fear of Raol in their hearts and cripple their resolve. Yet, before he could even finish, counters rose against the idea, citing numerous rules of war that such a direct attack would violate.

The suggestions of the others were no better, though, and it wasn't until General Moonlake stood up to speak that Deaton heard something reasonable and, more importantly, doable.

Adjusting her glasses once more, General Moonlake spoke. "We have analyzed the bombs they used to break through our shields and have been able to configure the shields to resist them next time."

General Beltharum frowned and argued against the idea. "I guess that's one way to prevent such a disaster from happening again, but that isn't a foolproof solution. They'll just find another way to enter."

General Ilarion nodded. "Entering our atmosphere isn't the problem. Rather than focusing on how to prevent that, how about we focus on how to trap them in once they do?"

Deaton frowned, grudgingly curious. "What do you mean, trap? Like a spatial lockdown?"

General Ilarion shrugged. "I don't know what I mean. It's just an idea I'm throwing out there for us to consider."

There was a brief moment of silence before the Supreme spoke again. "Trapping invading champions within our space is an idea that is both fascinating and obviously complex. I like the idea, though, and I think we should pen it down so our scientists can look into it. If it's something that's doable, then we should get on it quickly." He glanced up at Moonlake and asked. "Do you have anything else to add?"

"Yes, actually. This is in no way a solution, but my team and I have been working alongside champion Matharantha to make the aerial shields reflective. That way, they would reflect hostile energies back at their source rather than defend against it."

The idea was an interesting one to Deaton, and from the expressions on the faces of the other generals, it was obvious he wasn't alone in his sentiments. Murmurs rose as the other generals discussed and commended the idea.

Supreme Daystar, however, frowned and asked. "This isn't the first time you've brought up this idea. What's holding it back?"

General Moonlake hesitated for a moment before responding. "Power is what's holding us back. We have the knowledge for it and have even managed to build several prototypes, but our small prototypes are incomparable to the scale in which the shields cover. We need a lot of power to begin such a project, power that cores just aren't capable of providing."

"So what are you saying exactly?"

"We need a Mythic with the reflection affinity to power the initial activation of such a large-scale project. Cores can be used to maintain it or even an essence converter, but we need a Mythic for the initial activation and we do not have one."

"In the entire kingdom?" The Supreme asked.

"None that we know of, and we have searched. We did come across several glass awakeneds with the ability to reflect attacks and energies back at their source, but none with the actual affinity of reflection. Matharantha is our only option, but she isn't willing to evolve into the Mythic class just to advance our project."

The Supreme's gaze flashed towards Deaton. "Is this true? This particular champion is in your charge, is she not?"

"She is, and yes, it is true. Unlike the others who are either solidifying their foundations before taking the next step or keeping themselves open for the coliseum, Matharantha seems to be very concerned about what she would do with her time if she does evolve into the Mythic class and is completely cut off from participating in the war. Also, I think there's a part of her that fears what abilities she would gain from evolving into the Mythic class. Her abilities are already incredibly powerful and bizarre; even I wonder."

"Then she needs orientation." General Ilarion interjected, his face hard. "Champions are meant to serve their kingdom, and if there is a way she could potentially save millions of lives, then she should be jumping at the chance to take it."

The Supreme nodded and raised his voice. "Enough delays. Matharantha has lingered in the advanced tier long enough. Her concerns may be valid, but our needs are pressing, and we cannot afford to wait until she makes that decision on her own. I am ordering her to advance to the Mythic class as soon as possible. She will collaborate on the aerial shields project, and I expect no resistance on this matter. Ensure she receives the directive immediately."

"I will." Deaton sighed, and a few minutes later, they moved on to the next item on their list: retaliation plans.

Once again, when the Supreme asked for ideas, hands shot into the air like rockets, each general burning with an idea or two that they wanted to share. It soon became obvious that despite being wary of the war, the generals had not run out of ideas and strategies.

The ideas came pouring in, and many of them were even good, enough to create short spurts of excitement within Deaton, who was most certainly wary of the war. However, after nearly an hour of discussions and deliberations, they managed to narrow the ideas down to two.

The first suggestion came, surprisingly, from General Vesper, who proposed turning Sunstone's own tactics against them by sending a changeling to poison their waters and give them a debilitating plague to worry about while they wreak havoc on the rest of the Kingdom.

It was an extreme strategy—far more aggressive than the retaliation plans they had enacted over the years. Deaton had his reservations, but ultimately, it was no worse than the one Moonlake had proposed.

Moonlake's idea relied on advanced runic engineering to create multiple inversion points within Sunstone's protective shields. Instead of serving as a barrier, the shield would be twisted into a lure, drawing in hostile monsters from the surrounding regions and turning Sunstone into a battleground of its own making.

It was a simple yet devastating twist on Sunstone's own defenses, and Deaton particularly liked that it required minimal direct involvement on their part. They wouldn't need to dirty their hands—just tamper with the shield, and it would do all the work for them. What wasn't to love?

The other generals didn't seem to have much objection to either plan, so when it came time to decide, the Supreme turned to Moonlake and asked, "This shield inversion you speak of—explain it further."

Moonlake inclined his head. "Shield inversion is still in the experimental stage. In fact, it remains purely theoretical for now. However, with the expertise of Champions like Geneva Rhyntharion and a team of genius runic engineers, we believe we can create what we call a 'runic virus.' This virus would seamlessly integrate with the shields and begin altering their core functions."

"Given the scale of Sunstone's shields, multiple runic viruses would need to be injected at equidistant points to form a synchronized network, all working in our favor."

General Ilarion narrowed his eyes. "And can this be done without them noticing?"

Moonlake nodded. "Most definitely. As I mentioned, the virus blends seamlessly with the shield's existing structure. The only challenge is that each injection must be done manually."

The Supreme folded his hands. "Assuming the viruses are successfully injected, these inverted points—will they function as lures?"

"Entry points," Moonlake corrected. "The entire shield will act as a lure, drawing in creatures from all directions, while the inverted points will become forced entryways. This will inevitably expose those points to Sunstone, but they'll have only two choices: dismantle the infected shields entirely or endure an unrelenting onslaught of monsters until they find a solution—which won't be anytime soon, I can promise you that."

Deaton exhaled sharply, shaking his head at the sheer intricacy of the plan. Sunstone would never willingly take down their shields; that would be tantamount to suicide. Yet, leaving them in place meant they would have no choice but to station nearly all their champions and elites at the breach points, fighting wave after wave of monsters from sunrise to sundown. That alone would be enough to tilt the war in their favor.

Despite his personal distaste for the war, Deaton couldn't ignore the thrill that coiled in his gut as he considered the implications. Sunstone would be effectively cornered. If they pulled their champions from the front lines to defend the shield, entire battlefields would be left vulnerable. If they focused on the war, then massive sections of their city would be left unguarded, overrun by the very creatures their shields were meant to repel.

It would be brutal. It would be bloody. And judging by the looks exchanged around the chamber, he wasn't the only one realizing just how devastating this plan could be. The other generals' expressions mirrored his thoughts—this was it. Vesper's plague tactic had been a fine strategy, but this? This was warfare on an entirely different level.

If they could pull it off—

"How certain are you that this will work?" The Supreme's voice sliced through Deaton's thoughts like a blade, sharp and demanding.

All eyes turned to Moonlake, who met the Supreme's gaze without hesitation. "I am certain, Supreme. We already have a prototype, and after just one initial test, my team and I were almost instantly besieged by nearly a hundred advanced-level monsters. If a single virus point can achieve that, imagine what a hundred—or a thousand—could do."

Silence fell over the chamber. The weight of his words settled upon them like a leaden shroud as each general tried to picture the sheer chaos a thousand virus points would unleash. A collective shudder rippled through the room.

The Supreme's lips curled into a grin, and with a low chuckle, he said, "Then it's settled. We'll go with your plan, Moonlake. However…" His grin widened, a gleam of something darker flickering in his eyes. "I think we can add something to make this even more devastating."

"What?" Moonlake asked, and Deaton glanced at the Supreme with a hint of trepidation, a sinking feeling coiling in his gut as the Supreme leaned forward.

"For too long, we've allowed Sunstone to dictate the battlefields. First, the plains of Conquestia. Then, the Steppin' Plains and Rocky Shores They've always chosen where we fight. It's time that changed. This time, we will take the war to them. We will strike on all sides and force them to crumble from within. Sunstone has held the advantage for long enough—it ends now."

A roar of approval erupted through the chamber. Cheers and applause filled the air as the generals rallied behind the Supreme's words. They were amped for this. Their zeal had returned, and he couldn't help but wonder if he was the odd one for not sharing in their electric excitement.

His gaze flickered toward the Supreme, who was still smiling, but just for a fraction of a second, he noticed a shadow of something flash across his expression. Their eyes met, and in a voice meant only for him, the Supreme murmured, "We are soldiers, Deaton. We do not have the luxury of weariness or rest until our king grants it. Hopefully, that will happen soon. But until then, the war must go on."

Deaton nodded. He understood. And the Supreme was right. Until peace was declared, the war had to continue. That didn't mean he had to like it—but he had a duty, and he would not falter.

The meeting continued for another hour. Half the time was spent refining the details—assigning specialists, calculating the required resources, and discussing potential counters Sunstone might employ. They debated logistics, ensuring every step of the plan was airtight. The latter half of the discussion shifted toward fortification—preparing their defenses in case Sunstone launched a preemptive strike.

Then, they moved to the final and most concerning topic of the night—the Children of the Watch.

Over the past few months, reports had been gathered from Unoros, Calodan, and the Central Kingdom in an effort to pinpoint the cultists' location. Until recently, the search had been fruitless. But after Geneva's latest mission, they had found a few things, one of which was very concerning.

The cultists were gearing up for war.

The last time the children of the watch had waged war, they hadn't followed any rules of engagement. Mythics and Calamities had taken the field, entire cities reduced to nothing but dust in their wake. They did not fight conventional battles. They burned entire civilizations to the ground.

They couldn't let that happen again. They couldn't afford another war, not when they were still dealing with Sunstone, and the Attilan continent loomed in the future. They needed time to train and grow stronger in peace, but that would never happen if they didn't act now.

The supreme's expression hardened. "What do we know of their location?"

Beltharum exhaled. "Not much. We know they have a supposed headquarters, but every captive we've interrogated knows nothing of its whereabouts. We suspect it exists within a tethered plane or cloaked dimension, accessible only to a select few. Until we capture someone of high enough rank within their hierarchy, we will have no leads."

The supreme's jaw tightened. "Then that's what we must do. Send the champions to begin the search. Wherever these cultists are, we need to find them and destroy their headquarters before they accumulate enough power to become a real threat. The champions of Calodan are already working on finding them. We need to do the same." He glanced at Deaton and added. "Send word to Unoros too; we need them to participate. This is an issue that concerns us all after all. It's high time we team up to eradicate these cultists once and for all. They've been a thorn in our flesh for long enough.