The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Enrique LifeHeart was Baron Shrapanelly's right-hand man, trusted in all affairs—legal or illegal—until he had fallen out of favor last month for getting in bed with the very hot wife of Sylvester Monroon, one of the baron's top most clients.

He had tried to make the Baron see reason, citing the woman's otherworldly curves as the reason for his fall, but the Baron had been adamant and had relegated him to the disgraceful post of a chauffeur until he fell back in favor—ascendants alone knew how long that would take.

Grumbling to himself, Enrique carried out his duties with the utmost annoyance—chauffeuring the baron's clients to and fro when he could be applying himself to more important endeavors, like attending high-end meetings and dealing with debtors.

The Baron's decision to relegate him to this lowly position was done to shame him and make him see the wrong in his actions, but although, Enrique was sufficiently shamed and embarrassed, he was far from remorseful. He had fallen into a trap—a trap that any other man would have fallen into if they laid eyes on the otherworldly curves he mentioned earlier. He was the victim here. He should be plied with apology gifts instead of being shamed this way.

Still, the shame wasn't enough to make him resign. In fact, he doubted anything the Baron did could ever make him resign, not when he was being paid so generously. The Baron might be set in his ways of traditional honor and nobility, despite being a criminal, but no one could say he wasn't generous.

Because of that, Enrique stayed, bearing the burdens of his new position grudgingly, waiting for the day the baron would need his services once again. He always did. After all, Enrique was the best at what he did. No one, not even the baron's dead son, had been able to take his place.

Pulling out a bottle of wine from the cellarette without permission, Enrique downed half of the scorching liquid in a single gulp, loving the burn as it slid down his throat. The taste was impeccable, but then so was any drink imported from Calodan.

Grunting, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tilted the wine bottle to identify its name. Written in fiery red scripts was the word "Phoenix Blood. Scoffing, Enrique gave it a quick sniff before taking another swig of the wonderful wine.

It burned a fiery path down his throat again, tasting even better than before, and he made a mental note to buy a crate for himself when he returned home to his family for the weekend. Knowing the Baron, a single bottle probably cost hundreds of gold coins, but as the right-hand man of the Baron, Enrique was well compensated.

Any other person might have been more cautious with their spending, considering the fact that his pay had declined along with his position, but Enrique didn't see things that way. Things were down now, and nearly three weeks had passed since his demotion, but he believed that it was only a matter of time before the Baron needed his services again.

As a life awakened with his skills groomed specifically towards enhancing and empowering nature affinities, his abilities were a necessity for the Baron, who wasn't all that powerful, to be honest. However, with the both of them working together, there was little they couldn't accomplish. Life and nature—no death.

The Baron would remember that soon enough, and when he did, Enrique would be waiting.

He downed another swig of the fiery wine and sighed blissfully, enjoying the impeccable taste, but his moment of peace was suddenly cut off by a grating voice.

"Tastes like shame and infidelity, doesn't it?"

Enrique's fist tightened in anger as he turned to look back at Asha, his expression twisting into a scowl of annoyance when he found no sign of fear on her expression. Asha was a sleeper. A weakling. But she had found favor with the Baron, who had transformed her into… something else.

Not quite a bioweapon, but definitely something dangerous. She still looked normal, though, almost innocent, but Enrique knew not to mess with her too much even at the 37th tier. Still, this was an opportunity to put her on Baron Shrapanelly's shit list, and when she raised an unimpressed eyebrow, his scowl deepened.

"You little brat, what would you know about infidelity?" He raked his eyes over her body and smirked. "You are half metal after all."

Indignation flashed across her expression, and Enrique's smile widened. "What's the matter, love? Did I strike a wire?"

Asha clenched a fist, and for a moment, Enrique thought that she might actually break the rules and attack him, but she caught herself in time and smiled. "You've got good jokes, Enrique. But if you think you can goad me into breaking the rules this high into my career, then you're sorely mistaken."

Enrique wiped a dribble of wine from his lips and scowled. "You know, Asha, there's such a thing called mutual respect, and—"

"And I respect you as a person." Asha cut him off firmly. "But if you expect me to treat a mere chauffeur as an equal in this house, then once again you're sorely mistaken."

Enrique growled and took a threatening step forward, but Asha didn't even blink. She raised that annoying eyebrow once again and smirked. "Am I supposed to feel threatened?"

"Yes." Enrique replied, his tone deadly serious. "Whatever modifications you might have undergone, they are nothing compared to actual power. I refrain from hitting you only because the Baron would take offense. However, I will only say this once. I am not a chauffeur, and the next time you address me as such—

"You'll do what? Kill me?" Asha cut him off again, causing him to grind his teeth together in annoyance. Chuckling, she shook her head. "You really need to work on your threats, Enrique, because death is so old news at this point. Do you know how many people have threatened me with death?"

"I'm more interested in how no one has deemed it fit to actually carry out that threat. Perhaps I shall be the one to end your existence after all. You just wait till I get my position back. Then we'll see who's laughing."

He stalked away from her after that, desperately needing to make a grand exit to punctuate his statement, but the damned woman seemed hellbent on testing his limits because he was barely a dozen steps away when she spoke again.

"The chauffeur isn't permitted to enter the Baron's cellarette without permission, not to mention, take a bottle of expensive wine out of the house when he should be on duty." She waited a moment before adding. "I must ask you to hand it over."

Anger flared, and life essence rippled dangerously, but Enrique controlled himself, albeit with a lot of shuddering. Pushing down his anger, he stalked back to the cellarette and returned the half-drunk bottle.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he turned back to glare at Asha. "It's all fun and games until the Baron reinstates me. Believe me when I say the first thing I would do is find a way to get rid of you."

Asha shrugged. "I believe you. I just don't fear you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got duties to attend to."

Enrique watched her go, anger boiling within his chest, and when she was finally out of sight, he grabbed the half-drunk wine bottle and stalked out of the mansion in a huff.

He slammed the door behind him and took another long swig, a slight wave of vertigo washing over him as the wine pooled within his belly. His regeneration tried to nullify the effects of the wine, but Enrique resisted, allowing the alcohol to run its course.

The wine lived up to its name, curling through his lungs and settling deep in his gut like coal left to smolder. He coughed, half wheezing, and after the fifth swig, Enrique had to clutch his throat from the sheer intensity of the burn.

"Damn." He cursed, his breath coming out hot and tinged with something smoky, as if he'd swallowed a mouthful of embers instead of wine. "Fuck, that's good." He muttered to himself, still coughing as he made his way to his quarters, servants rushing past him, heads bowed in respect.

At least, they knew who was still boss around here.

He had almost reached his quarters when he heard voices coming from the gate, and with drunken steps, he went to check it out. He might have been relegated to the post of a chauffeur, but everyone here with a lick of sense knew that he was still in charge.

He reached the gates a moment later, prepared to scold the guards for gossiping. However, instead of gossiping guards, he found two agents standing in front of the gate, their golden badges nearly blinding in the morning sun. However, these badges were very different from those of the standard agent. Rimmed with obsidian stones, these badges were the symbol of a particular office—one no one liked to see in front of their gates.

Inquisitors.

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The sight of those badges snapped Enrique back to lucidity even faster than his regeneration could, and he immediately tapped the whispering sigil on his index finger, flicking it discreetly but continuously to alert everyone within the house that there was potential trouble. Whether this was a simple house call or not, it was always better to be prepared considering the nature of their business.

He expected a ping back from the Baron giving him orders on what to do, but when he received none, he decided to use his initiative. Putting on an air of self-importance and professionalism, he pushed one of the guards aside and said,. "Good morning, inquisitors. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

The first inquisitor turned to look at him, and Enrique shuddered slightly from the intensity of the man's gaze. The man had no bloodline manifestation, yet his strength wasn't hidden. It was obvious in the way he wasn't breathing—which meant he had gotten to the stage where he didn't really need to breathe anymore, which in turn meant he was close to the Mythic class. Very close.

The second inquisitor was less scary, despite having what some might term a severe bloodline manifestation. He was a tall, lanky man with a head of silver hair that fell in wisps around his face. His irises were also silver, but faceted like gems rather than circular, shifting colors subtly as he also looked up at Enrique. Faint fractal patterns, similar to delicate runes and pulsing with silver light, were etched across his skin, and although Enrique couldn't gauge the man's strength from merely looking at him, he could still feel a hint of danger from the man.

The lead inquisitor smiled at him and pulled out a warrant. "I am Agent Renald Veyric, the new lead inquisitor for this part of Nematon. My partner here is Agent Cale Everglade, and we are here to conduct a simple search of the estate to confirm that nothing illegal is going on here."

"Illegal?" Enrique feigned confusion and frowned. "Are you sure this isn't the wrong establishment? This is Baron Shrapanelly's estate."

"We are aware of that." Agent Renald responded calmly. "Now, if you would please step aside."

Enrique clicked the whispering sigil once again. Yet no response. Okay, something was definitely wrong. Trying to buy time?" he asked. "Can I please see the warrant first?"

"He's trying to buy time." Agent Everglade spoke flatly, his silver eyes twinkling as he scanned Enrique from head to toe. "He's very nervous, and he's been tapping a whispering ring for the past ten seconds, all to no avail. I doubt the people he's trying to reach are in any position to reply at this point."

Enrique stiffened at the agent's accurate insight into what was going on, and his already racing heart rate doubled. An insight awakened. Oh, what a mess. This know-it-all fool was going to be a problem.

Agent Renald only smiled at his partner's words and handed over the warrant to Enrique, who received the delicate scroll with steady hands. An insight awakened might be a nuisance in situations like this, but as long as he bought enough time, there was no reason they couldn't walk away from this without any issue. This wasn't his first dealing with inquisitors, after all.

He read through the warrant slowly, but it was only two sentences, and a minute later he reached the end. Grimacing at the correct details, he handed the warrant back and stepped aside, gesturing for the agents to step in.

They did, the gaze of the second agent going to the nearly empty bottle of phoenix blood that he had discarded by the gate as he walked past him and into the compound proper. Enrique's grimace morphed into a scowl. Did nothing ever escape this man's gaze?

The guards shut the gate behind them, and Enrique smiled. "Come with me, Agents. Let me take—

"This is such a fancy mansion for a mere baron. Is it not?" Agent Renald cut him off.

"It is." Agent Everglade agreed and waved Enrique forward. "While we walk, why don't you tell us what other businesses the Baron runs aside from his estate?"

"He has a cotton factory, which is a very lucrative business if one knows what they are doing, like the Baron." Enrique responded smoothly, having played this game a thousand times before. Smiling, he continued. "But I'm sure you know all that, seeing as you must have read his file before coming here. You may even know more than I do."

"I sincerely doubt that we know him more than his right-hand man." Agent Everglade replied with a smile. "To think so would be highly presumptuous, don't you think?"

Enrique kept his expression blank. Knowing how the insight affinity worked, the man was probably drawing a ton of information from every single word and action he took. He couldn't not respond, but responding was like walking a tightrope with metal spikes waiting below to skewer him to pieces. Instead, he tried to redirect the topic. "Let me lead you to the Baron. He's in a better position to handle this."

The agents didn't protest, however, when they reached the entrance to the mansion, and one of the maids opened the door; the panicked expression on her face made it obvious that something was terribly wrong. Pulling the panicked girl aside so the agents could go in, Enrique hissed. "Pull yourself together, you fucking twit. Where the hell is Asha?"

"Missing, sir." The girl whispered hurriedly. "She went to check on his lordship when the alarm rang, but he wasn't there, and then she went to check the dungeons, and she hasn't come out since."

"What do you mean she hasn't come out since?" He hissed again, his hold on the poor maid tight. Before she could respond, though, Agent Renald spoke up.

"If you would consider our time, Mr. LifeHeart, we would be very grateful."

Enrique let go of the maid immediately, his mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on. The Baron should have been in his study. That way, they could have handled all this without needing the search, but with the Baron and Asha sequestering themselves in the dungeon along with that fucking Empath and the fucking cultist, how was he supposed to deal with this?

Thinking quickly, he subtly signaled to the maid to find the baron and apprise him of the situation while he tried to buy more time. He couldn't afford to let the agents search the house, not with an insight awakened on the loose. There was a reason why they kept renovating this building after all.

However, Agent Everglade—the fucker—must have gained even more insight into the situation, because the moment Enrique began leading them up the stairs and to the Baron's study, he suddenly spoke up. "Take us to the basement of this house. I believe that's where that maid is scurrying to."

Enrique glanced at the maid, who was indeed 'scurrying,' and cursed. Of all the things to do when agents were in the house, she chose to scurry. What happened to fucking walking?

Before he could even speak or try to save the situation, the insight awakened flashed across the distance to grab the maid before she could leave their line of sight. He returned with the scurrying maid the next instant, her complexion as white as a sheet as she stared at them with wide eyes, completely stricken with fear.

She collapsed to the floor the moment Agent Everglade let go of her arm, crying. "Please spare me, agents. I only just got this job; I don't know any—

Had Enrique been the god of thunder, the look he gave her in that moment would have smitten her and burned her body to ash. Instead, it only shut her mouth, her teeth simply clicking shut the moment her gaze met his.

Forcing an even tone to belittle the event that had just occurred, Enrique spoke. "I believe my lord Baron is already waiting for us in his study. We shouldn't keep him waiting."

"He's not in his study." The insight awakened replied with a sweet smile. "He's in the basement. Now take us to him or we will have to drag you there ourselves."

Fucking imbecile. Which fucking councilor approved the paperwork to hire this prick as a fucking agent? Were they high? Didn't they realize how terrible he would be for business?

With no option left, Enrique led the agents towards the basement. He tried to take the long way, taking unnecessary curves and stairways just to buy time, because what else could he do at this point, but every time he did, the insight awakened was quick to call him to order, while the lead inquisitor simply stared at him with barely leashed violence.

The next eight minutes were the longest of Enrique's life as he prayed that the baron had gotten his calls and had put everything in order. This wasn't the first time they'd been searched by agents, but this was the first time it hadn't been orchestrated by the Baron himself to keep things progressing smoothly. To the world, the baron was a simple widower who had lost his family to a cultist accident six years ago and was now simply living his life without any crimes.

The presence of a dungeon will destroy that illusion.

Exhaling sharply, Enrique tried to take another detour, trying to lead the inquisitors to the special basement they had prepared exactly for situations like this, but the insight awakened—fucking prick—caught him once again, pulling him back sharply and gesturing towards another corridor with a smile. "I believe this corridor will lead us there faster."

Visibly anxious, Enrique swallowed nervously and walked down the right corridor. At this point, there was no point trying to claim that they weren't involved in any suspicious activities, as nearly everything they had done so far was suspicious in one way or the other. Instead, he simply hoped that Asha and the Baron had some sort of plan to sort all this mess out.

They reached the basement a moment later, and Enrique waved to the empty space. "This is the basement. It's currently empty, but we usually use it as storage for cotton before—"

The insight awakened punched the wall, accurately finding the activation node for the illusion array they had installed a few years ago. The dungeon revealed itself after that, rows and rows of empty steel cells, and Agent Renald chuckled. "Some cotton indeed."

Enrique deflated and simply looked away, not bothering to defend himself. The agents looked around for a moment before walking forward, their gazes more curious than offended. Dungeons in noble houses were neither a crime nor a rarity; however, their case was different. Their dungeon didn't house thieves or debtors—it housed a cultist. A high-level one at that, someone who should have been reported to the government the moment he was caught.

Harboring such a criminal was a crime.

Enrique walked between the agents, his steps rigid with tension as they neared the end of the dungeon. He still held on to the faint hope that the Baron could salvage this mess and explain everything away.

But as they reached the final chamber, that hope crumbled.

Enrique's eyes widened.

Sprawled carelessly on the cold stone floor, looking like she'd dozed off mid-sentence, was Asha, a sharp knife loosely held in her right hand. A few feet from her lay the Baron—gagged and cuffed in reinforced null cuffs. He was motionless, his eyes closed, an expression of strange serenity painted across his face.

And standing over both of them, pale and injured, was the fucking Empath.

He smiled at the agents and stepped forward, his voice hoarse. "Thank you, guys, for coming. I was worried no one would—

"Arrest them all." The lead inquisitor ordered sharply, cutting the Empath off. Before Enrique could so much as blink, null chains were clinking around wrists. Asha had been bundled up like a sack of potatoes, and even the cultist had been wrapped with a different set of null chains.

"What!" Aldric exclaimed in confusion as he struggled against the restraints. "I'm the one who called the military. I'm not part of this—I stopped this. I'm the hero here—"

Agent Renald shut him up with a cold glare. "You, Aldric Brystion, are under arrest for piracy and smuggling. The Baron and his associates are charged with unlawful detention of a cultist and trafficking illegal narcotics within Ragnarok. You'll all have the chance to defend yourselves before the Awakened Council. Until then," he stepped closer, voice low, "shut up and let us work."

And just like that, Aldric found himself arrested for the first time in his life—a twist of fate that would soon force Aodhán to make an impossible choice.

The Awakened Council, it seemed, had finally found a way to tighten the noose around his neck.