The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Giggling, Lupin and Gwendolyn watched as Aodhán and Andrew climbed into the dueling ring, which had been left as bare concrete this time to not provide Andrew the added advantage of having an entire forest at his disposal.

The mini-tournament had been an exhilarating—adrenaline and dopamine-inducing—experience, and both girls couldn't help but feel giddy. They had been eliminated in the very first round, which had granted them the opportunity to simply watch and learn—without the added stress of competing themselves.

Watching their friends reveal powerful, hidden skills and abilities set their determination ablaze, though in the most fun way possible. They oohed and aahed whenever something spectacular happened, like Andrew defeating Ayisha or when Aodhán transformed fully into a bestial form.

They also engaged in intellectual conversations, like which one of the boys had gotten hotter during the three-week break. The answer was unsurprisingly Andrew, whose physical features were nearing otherworldly at this point, though Daruk was a very close second.

Gwendolyn, in particular, had strong opinions when it came to Daruk, though Lupin knew nothing serious was going on between them—at least not yet. Still, watching the duels had been wildly entertaining, and neither of them could wait to see how this match would unfold.

"Okay, who are you picking? Strengths and weaknesses?" Gwendolyn asked, nudging Lupin lightly.

Lupin pursed her lips in thought. This was a game they had been playing since their elimination. While it hadn't been the most accurate predictor of winners, it was still fun.

After a moment, she replied, "I'll go with Aodhán. You take Andrew."

"Cool. So, what are you thinking?"

"For strengths, Aodhán has more willpower and greater destructive potential. He's faster than Andrew, but that doesn't matter much here since Andrew barely moves anyway." She frowned, then added, "Oh yeah, he has higher perception and even stronger spiritual cultivation, I think. Plus, his bestial transformation and that explosion of force and momentum he releases from time to time."

Gwendolyn nodded. "And weaknesses?"

"He's low on energy, though I'm not sure how much that'll hinder him. He's also at a lower tier, so…" She shook her head. "That's all I've got for now. Your turn."

Gwendolyn leaned back, considering. "For strengths, I think Andrew might have higher spiritual cultivation, but I'm not sure. He's at a higher tier, and despite the lack of a forest theme, he has proven he doesn't really need it in his duel against me. He has better control, can create a ridiculous variety of plants that thrive in harsh conditions, and empowers them with his aura. Plus, there's his Icon. What is it again? Inevitable?"

"Inexorable." Lupin corrected with a smile.

Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow. "Is there a difference?"

"Just in nuance and context." Lupin shrugged. "But it doesn't matter. What about weaknesses?"

"He has less willpower and is more of a 'slow march' type than an all-out offensive fighter. If Aodhán can take him out in the first few minutes before the vines accumulate, he's got a decent shot. If not… I don't know."

Lupin frowned. "What if Andrew still has a skill he hasn't shown yet?"

Gwendolyn glanced at the dueling ring and smirked. "Well, we're about to find out, aren't we?"

Aodhán and Andrew had taken up their position at opposite ends of the ring, locked in a stare so intense it was almost tangible.

"Are you ready?" Yurin called out, looking a bit better after almost bottoming his willpower in his duel against Aodhán.

"We are." Andrew and Aodhán replied at the same time, and with a nod, he began the countdown.

Lupin, Gwendolyn, and the others—except Ayisha, who was still fast asleep—leaned forward, eyes locked on the dueling ring. These two had defeated everyone else to get here, and everyone was expecting an explosive, adrenaline-pumping battle from both of them. They wanted something glorious, something spectacular.

Little did they know that this match was about to be one of the shortest duels they would ever experience.

"Three, two, one…" Yurin shouted, holding the moment for suspense before calling out, "Fight!"

The moment the words escaped Yurin's lips, the entire concrete floor cracked, and dozens of roots erupted from below, twisting and writhing. Aodhán immediately recognized Andrew's {Root Surge}; judging by the rapid rate of growth, {Mycelium Network} was involved as well.

The roots tangled over each other, birthing a swarm of black vines with metallic-looking tips. Some dug into the ground, breaking up more roots, while others rushed toward Aodhán, circling him in an attempt to entrap him.

Yet, Aodhán remained motionless—not out of fear, but calculation. With {Eye of the Storm} enhancing his perception far beyond Andrew's, he had more than enough time to think before the vines reached him.

Despite his efforts to conserve energy during his fight with Yurin, he was running low. It wasn't dire—he wasn't about to keel over—but in a prolonged battle against Andrew, he would definitely lose.

There was only one real option at that moment, and Aodhán decided it was better to risk an all-out attack than risk getting dragged into a battle he couldn't win. Assuring himself that he was making the right decision, Aodhán focused on the encircling vines and smiled.

The sound of cracking concrete filled the air as even more roots broke through, transforming the ring into a chaotic landscape of black vines, roots, and shattered stone. It was scary, seeing Andrew fight so powerfully, so overwhelmingly. Yet, despite standing motionless, Aodhán was far from idle. In fact, he was doing more than anyone could see.

Forgoing the {Perfect Imbuement Technique}, he pulled a massive surge of energy and willpower into his pathways, gathering and compressing it with reckless abandon. Normally, this approach was considered crude—an inefficient, wasteful technique that sapped more power than it granted. It was a technique so lacking in finesse and control that the result almost always reduced the power of the skill rather than amplifying it.

But Aodhán didn't care.

For this skill, he didn't need finesse. He didn't need precision. He needed chaos—raw, unrestrained destruction—and this method was the only way to achieve it.

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The roots lunged forward, their metallic tips gleaming with deadly intent. The moment they closed the distance, Aodhán sprang into action, slamming his hand against the ground as he unleashed {Lightning Surge—Green}.

A detonation of Sylvael lightning erupted from him, surging outward in a ravenous flood. It consumed the nearest roots and vines instantly, twisting them into grotesque, mutated forms before they exploded in bursts of sickly energy. The lightning didn't stop. It spread, expanding hungrily with every vine it touched, feeding off the very life it corrupted. It sank into the concrete, reaching deep into the seed that had spawned the roots and warping its genetic structure in the most barbaric way possible.

All around him, vines withered, roots rotted, and the stench of decay thickened the air, forcing spectators to choke on its foulness. But Aodhán wasn't finished, and he didn't stop channeling.

Every plant that died sent a sharp, gut-wrenching pang through his {Mycelium Network}, each one a severed connection, a wound that left him reeling. A chorus of death signals flooded his mind, fracturing his focus and throwing him into disarray.

Andrew tried to pull the plants back, but it was already too late. The corruption had spread too deep—its taint had seeped into the roots, leaving the vines beyond saving. They wilted before his eyes, their shuddering leaves trembling as if pleading for him to rescue them, and something deep within him responded.

He reached forward and pulled, manipulating dozens of vines toward himself. Desperation surged through him as he poured his will into them, but just as he released his aura to try and heal them, they wilted, decaying into a ruin of dust and sap. All around him, plants died in droves, their echoes flooding into his mind in a chaotic, overwhelming wave.

Anger sparked within his chest, molten and unrelenting. A cry of pain and grief tore from his throat as he roared, activating {Forest of Thorns} to unleash a furious wave of poisonous thorns at Aodhán, but even as they lashed forward, Andrew knew they would fail.

And they did.

Sylvael lightning ripped through the thorns, mutating them in mere seconds before detonating them in a violent burst. The explosion sent Andrew staggering, shock flashing through his mind as his skill was severed before it could fully take shape.

Manipulating the surging energy into a concentrated beam of crackling green electricity, Aodhán took advantage of Andrew's momentary lack of focus and directed all the lightning that he could control toward Andrew.

The beam erupted forward, a torrent of power so immense that the entire dueling ring trembled beneath its force. The air itself seemed to vibrate as the attack roared toward Andrew. In a desperate bid to shield himself, Andrew raised a barrier of vines and thorns, their roots entwining and thickening to withstand the onslaught. But against an attack so opposed to nature, his defenses stood no chance. The moment the beam struck, his barriers crumbled like dead leaves caught in a storm.

Another river of willpower erupted from Aodhán, fueling the skill even further, and without access to his seals or icons, Andrew knew he couldn't withstand this skill for long. Still, he fought against inevitability, weaving a towering wall of vines and thorns in a last-ditch effort to absorb even a fraction of the beam's destructive force.

However, his actions only seemed to fuel the sylvael lightning. Like cancer, the Sylvael lightning fed on the organic material, spreading like an insidious disease. It leaped from vine to vine, corrupting, healing, and killing all at once in a twisted cycle. With so much energy and willpower fueling the skill, the vines withered almost immediately, turning black and brittle as their life was drained away to fuel the lightning.

Reeling back, Andrew realized just how devastating this skill was and how much more terrible it would be for him if even a single arc of that lightning touched him. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he scanned his mind and status screen for a solution, but he found none, and with his seals and icons inaccessible to him for the duration of this duel, Andrew saw no other alternative than to surrender.

Just before the beam of electricity hit him, Andrew shouted out his surrender.

In an instant, another explosion of willpower erupted outward as the beam was forcefully redirected upwards, missing Andrew by only a meter. It smashed into the reinforced concrete ceiling with a sound not unlike thunder, the impact causing shockwaves to ripple outward.

For a brief moment, Aodhán was sure the sheer power of the attack would have obliterated the structure—

But then the runes activated. Hundreds of intricate symbols flared to life, burning with brilliant intensity as they absorbed and dismantled the energy behind the strike. Only a few seconds after, the lightning was torn apart, scattered into harmless motes of dissipating power, save for the lingering crackle of fading electricity.

"Oh, for the love of stars!" Yurin shouted both in annoyance and astonishment as Aodhán once again took the win. "Fuck!" he cursed and handed a coin to Daruk. "I was sure you would lose this time."

Daruk laughed and raised a hand in excitement. "Woohoo, we won!"

Aodhán laughed, still reeling from the amount of willpower he had just expelled to redirect that lightning. His heart beat loudly in excitement, and he laughed again. "Damn, that was exciting."

"Fuck you." Andrew cursed, seemingly regaining more and more of his old personality with each duel.

While the boys laughed and bantered in excitement, though, the girls stared, eyes wide in astonishment. Scarlett stared at them open-mouthed, trying to imagine the amount of power Aodhán had put into a single skill to cause the protective runes to flare so brightly, and yet the boys were taking it in stride.

"Am I crazy or what?" she asked no one in particular, but Lupin responded.

"It's times like this I regret breaking up with him. Fuck."

Gwendolyn shook her head. "Are we all just going to ignore the fact that all of this is just normal for them? Like they are not even fazed."

"That's because it is normal." Ayisha, who had finally woken up from her slumber, grimaced as she moved to join the girls. "Let's not forget that he was low on energy when he carried out this last attack. Imagine what he could do at full power."

Gwendolyn shuddered. "By the ascendants. I need to get closer to them."

"We all need to get closer to them." Ayisha corrected. "This is the exact kind of oppression and motivation that I need around me. If this doesn't push me to be better, then nothing else would."

Scarlett swallowed and clenched her fists. "I hate playing the role of a fangirl, but I say girls, we better start now."

The girls nodded, and as one, they moved to join the boys, congratulating Aodhán on his win.

When Daruk saw them, he shouted in excitement. "And there we have it, guys! The winner of this tournament is Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion, the general of carnage. Eww, I can't believe I said that."

Aodhán laughed, unable to contain his excitement that his gamble had worked. His energy was incredibly low, and he had drained more than half of his willpower to get this far, but he had done it. He had won, and as his excitement peaked, he roared, letting his voice explode out of him without restraint.

Andrew scowled at him and finally hugged him, muttering. "Willpower, willpower, willpower. By the heavens, you really are fated."

"Or just lucky." Yurin smiled and then frowned. "Too lucky. Are you by chance having an affair with Lady Luck?"

"A legit question." Daruk nodded in agreement. "I am in awe of the things she lets him get away with."

"That's not true." Aodhán laughed.

"It is true." Andrew scowled and turned his face to the side. "Must be nice, having Lady Luck in your corner."

"Or being inside her corner." Yurin laughed.

The girls grimaced, and Lupin scowled. "You do realize that we are ladies, right?"

Gwendolyn nodded in agreement. "We are refined women, literally, and if I have to listen to your crass talk one more time, I think I might just puke to death."

"Hey, I'm not that bad." Yurin defended himself and pointed at Andrew. "Andrew was always swearing just a few weeks ago, and you liked him."

"Swearing is different from crass talking." Andrew defended himself. "Swearing is an art. Crass talking is not."

An argument ensued between both boys, and Daruk shook his head, exasperated, as if he couldn't believe they were bickering over something so trivial. In all that excitement, none of them noticed Ayisha standing just outside their circle, watching them.

Her gaze was sharp, calculating—but not unkind. She wasn't celebrating, nor did she seem resentful. She simply watched. Had they paid attention, perhaps they would have sensed something beneath the surface, something worth keeping an eye on. But they didn't, and the moment slipped away, unnoticed.

Her expression soon shifted to something warm, a smile spreading across her lips as she stepped forward. She climbed into the ring with graceful ease, moving toward Aodhán with open arms. Before he could react, she hugged him tightly.

"I'm so glad you won," she murmured, her voice smooth and sweet. "I was rooting for you."

Aodhán chuckled, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. "Were you really?"

"Oh yes," she said, her tone light, almost playful. "We couldn't possibly let Andrew win. Not after how he defeated me."

Aodhán laughed, shaking his head. "No, we couldn't. Thanks for cheering me on."

"Of course." Ayisha's smile never faltered; her eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "What else could I possibly do aside from that?"