The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Geneva was sorting through a series of elder runes for the Aerial Shield-to-Lure Retaliation project when Aodhán's message came in. She ignored it, choosing instead to poke holes in the rune samples the other engineers had submitted for review.

There were dozens of them, each a unique blend of cloak, lure, invisibility, and energy efficiency runes. Every single one was a brilliant new creation, crafted with a singular aim: to lure an unending horde of bestial creatures to a location while remaining undetected. They were beautiful, and they were powerful. Yet Geneva wasn't satisfied.

Despite their ingenuity, the runes lacked the one thing that mattered most: detectability—or rather, the absence of it. That was the cornerstone of the entire plan. For the lures to be truly effective, Sunstone had to be unable to detect them.

Streamlined runes were great for combat—quick to craft, easy to deploy—but this project demanded something else entirely: a complex, almost convoluted design that could nestle seamlessly within the runic framework of Sunstone's aerial shields while remaining so energy-efficient that its drain was imperceptible.

That seemingly impossible design was what she had been chasing for weeks now.

Exhausted, Geneva exhaled and rubbed the corner of her eye with the back of her wrist. The lab's ambient lights were dimmed to reduce glare against the floating runes, but even so, her vision had begun to blur from hours of relentless analysis. Suppressing a yawn, she dismissed the current projection and leaned into the next. Out of habit, her fingers twitched, ready to swipe it aside like all the others—until something about its structure made her pause. Her eyes narrowed as she drew closer, curiosity cutting through the haze of fatigue.

This one was different.

The rune hovered in a muted amber glow, less vibrant than the others but infinitely more intricate. It wasn't trying to be elegant. It wasn't trying to impress. Its lines were jagged in places, curved in others, intentionally imperfect in a way that caused its edges to blend seamlessly with its surroundings. In a larger array of runes, like the aerial shields, it would be completely undetectable.

Geneva raised an eyebrow in surprise and delved deeper into the rune's structure.

At a glance, she saw a complex hybrid of four major affinities: cloak, lure, energy efficiency, and negation—a rare anti-detection affinity used only by high-level concealment experts. Most engineers layered their runes like stacked transparencies, each function distinguishable and clean. But this one wove them together like threads in a tapestry. The cloak affinity wasn't laid over the lure—it was the lure, meshed so seamlessly that the attraction emitted by the rune came in pulses that mimicked background energy noise. The energy efficiency rune was perfect, drawing energy from several nodes rather than a single focused node, further increasing its undetectability. And deep within the rune structure, barely visible, was the thin oscillation of the negation rune—synchronizing the rhythm of the rune to mimic the shield lattice it was meant to deceive.

Geneva leaned in, clearly very impressed. This was no mere rune. It was an act of sabotage crafted with surgical precision.

"Who submitted this?" she asked, lifting her gaze to the line of runic scholars and engineers standing before her. They were the best Ragnarok had to offer, each one renowned in their own right. But this—this rune was something else entirely. It was far better than any sample she herself had created.

For a moment, no one moved. Then a man stepped forward, his presence quiet yet oddly disarming, like a shadow that had always been there but only just decided to be noticed. His pupils were the color of ash-darkened bronze, rimmed faintly with gray and purple—the only remarkable thing about his appearance. His hair, also ashen, was tied back in a loose knot, framing a youthful face that looked no older than the age of seventeen.

Geneva recognized him immediately. She'd read his profile during her preparatory review of the team. The man was a newbie to the professional world of runic engineering, having only just graduated from the third academy a few years ago. But in the short time since, he'd more than proven himself—and earned his place in this lab. Geneva was aware of his talent, but she hadn't quite imagined he would be so ingenious.

The man smiled. "My name is Marj Vak, Champion. I created the runic meld.

Geneva studied him for a moment, then nodded and turned her attention back to the rune. It still pulsed faintly in the air—threads of lure and cloak woven so tightly that even her trained senses struggled to follow the pattern. A hum resonated in her bones—the telltale whisper of a well-anchored rune—and she smiled. She could feel the precision, the elegance of its layering.

"Impressive," she murmured after a while, then looked up. "But it's not enough."

With brisk fingers, Geneva reached into the heart of the rune, her will shaping lines of light in the air. She expanded the framework, drawing a more intricate lattice around Marj's design, feeding it not just power but complexity. She added nested loops of misdirection, masked the core structure of the rune, and added a dash of her intent that heightened the sensation of predator-call resonance.

Each addition increased the power of the rune, pulling the reach of the lure higher until it was strong enough to lure creatures in the mid-ninetieth tier. She stopped just short of the ninety-sixth tier. Any higher, and the energy draw would spike beyond concealment.

Then came the final touch—she inculcated another cloak rune into the mess, weaving it so tightly into the structure that it practically disappeared. Where others would've smudged the power signature, Geneva drowned it, submerging it beneath layers of folded resonance and false echoes.

When she finished, the elder rune spread across nearly two meters of open air, humming with restrained menace. The reddish glow deepened, and though inactive, the lure pulsed like a living entity.

Smiling, she spread her arms wide to enlarge the rune and announced,. "That is exactly what we need."

Smiles broke out on the faces of the engineers, and they all released sighs of relief, glad that she had finally settled on a rune. Cheers rang out, and a few of them even exchanged high-fives with Marj, who beamed with pride.

Geneva waited for them to calm down before speaking. "Congratulations, Marj. You've caught my attention. Keep it up, and I'll make sure you're rewarded specially."

Marj's smile widened, and he gave a sharp nod. "I'll put in my best, Champion."

"Good. Now, all of you come closer. This is our lure, thanks to Marj". Perfect it and submit a copy to General Moonlake. I doubt we can improve it much further, but if you believe otherwise, please let me know."

The engineers nodded and moved closer, eyes and instruments scanning the floating rune in preparation to perfect it. It had taken Geneva fifteen minutes to enhance it, but she would be pleasantly shocked if the other engineers spent anything less than five hours to perfect it.

This was a major achievement for them, as they'd been working on this rune for nearly a month now. For the first time in weeks, Geneva would finally rest—and not from exhaustion, but accomplishment. She couldn't wait.

Shrugging off her lab coat, she hung it on a special rack and made her way out of the research center. Ragnarok was getting its retaliation plans in motion, and all the champions had been on near-constant call—except Matharantha, who was preparing for her evolution to Mythic class.

Her position hadn't remained vacant for long. Just two days after the announcement, General Lucas had introduced the newest member of their group—Adrienne Baelion, a fire-awakened of great renown, especially popular in the capital and the 1st Sector.

Geneva was genuinely glad to have Adrienne join their little ensemble. They'd worked together once before, and the woman's power had left an impression. Despite being an elemental awakened, her understanding of fire was so deep, so conceptual, that Geneva wouldn't have been surprised if her flames froze someone to death.

They had already begun training together. So far, so good—Geneva had no complaints. Matharantha was a powerful member of their team, but she had been weird and scary. The constant sense that she was teetering on the edge of madness hadn't helped her popularity, and truth be told, everyone was quietly relieved that she was advancing.

General Lucas had insisted they all be present on the day of her evolution, even Uduak and Ali Hassani. Geneva knew better. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to put down a newborn Mythic—but just in case, she'd prepared a cache of elder runes to bring along.

Unleashing a trio of grand spatial runes as soon as she stepped out of the research station, she made a tear in reality and stepped in, pushing back at the wave of chaos that greeted her with a subtle flex of her aura. It was a bumpy ride compared to that of an actual portal, which operated in real space rather than the chaotic space runes used, but it was faster in her own opinion, and well, it was all she could create.

She arrived at the entrance of the 5th academy an instant later and immediately began searching for Aodhán's energy signature. Unlike Aodhán's core sensing ability, she could only identify an energy signature she had become intimately familiar with; still, it meant people she knew well couldn't get the jump on her, at least, not while she was conscious.

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She found him almost immediately and tore her way back into chaotic space, projecting her core across the distance the same way she had when she'd first recruited him for the cultist hunt.

She didn't care that she'd just been summoned by a teenager or that she was now spending her precious rest time answering his call. If Aodhán needed her advice at this time of the day, then the least she could do was hear him out.

She appeared high in the clouds above the 5th Academy to find Aodhán dozing on a small patch of roiling storm clouds, her holographic form flickering with a mix of amusement and annoyance.

Even asleep, Aodhán sensed her projected presence and jerked awake, eyes flying open. He stood quickly, clearing his throat. "I wasn't sleeping."

"Looked like you were to me," Geneva teased. "Pretty sure I heard you snore."

Aodhán sighed, his expression softening. "I'm tired. Thanks for answering. I needed advice, and there's no one else I trust right now. But before that... thank you for the help with the loan today. Aldric would be rotting in jail if not for you."

"It wasn't a gift," Geneva stated, clearing him of any delusions. "Aldric has to pay me back."

"Of course. I'm yet to speak to him about it, but… well, that's why I need your advice." Letting out a deep exhale, Aodhán explained the situation, starting from Aldric's request to his imperfect icon phrase.

When he finished speaking, Geneva frowned. "Let me get this straight. You mean what you did at the Steppin' Plains isn't the limit of that skill?"

"No, it isn't, but it's pretty close," Aodhán admitted with a sigh. "It was very hard for me to hold all that power at the Steppin' Plains, and infusing it all into a single drop of rain will most definitely be harder. Maybe even impossible, but I won't know that until I try."

Geneva's frown deepened as she mulled it over. "Have you ever tested it on someone before?"

"No. I usually test out my skills on creatures first, but the rain doesn't work on creatures. They have no inspirations to meditate on or understanding to refine."

"The weaker ones, you mean?" Geneva chuckled. "I've fought creatures just as smart, if not smarter than I am, with inspirations to meditate on and affinities to ponder."

"Well, where can I find such a creature?"

"Not in any of the settled sectors, that's for sure." She crossed her arms and raised a curious eyebrow. "But back to your dilemma. What's holding you back?"

Aodhán opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, taking the time to really think before answering the question. What was really holding him back? Was it a fear that this insane plan would work or that it wouldn't?

When Geneva saw his struggle to answer, she rephrased the question. "What do you think will happen if it works? Do you even know what this working looks like?"

Aodhán shook his head. "No, I honestly have no idea. What the rain provides is clarity of mind, enhanced perception, and reflexes to use that perception. The soldiers at the Steppin' Plains likened it to a week of uninterrupted meditation, so I can only assume that if I do this, it might be the equivalent of months or years rolled into a single drop of rain. Maybe even decades, though I think that's stretching it."

"I think so too." Geneva nodded, her gaze narrowing. "Still, a year of uninterrupted meditation and mental clarity is no joke. If Aldric has accumulated a lot of insights and inspiration, then it's very possible that he gains something truly extraordinary from this."

She shook her head in amazement. "This is amazing. If the kingdom finds out about this, it won't just be crime lords and cultists you have to worry about. Every single noble in the kingdom will be on your neck for a drop. The only reason I'm not reaching for your neck right now is because your abilities won't work on me yet. Besides, with the aerial shield and the guards surrounding this academy, I couldn't possibly steal you away."

Aodhán smirked. "We both know these guards can't do shit if you really plan to steal me away."

"And yet you're not terrified."

"No, I'm not. Because I trust you." He grimaced, and a moment later, he added, "At least, to an extent."

Geneva didn't comment further, instead simply asking, "What's the worst that could happen to Aldric if you do this?"

Aodhán frowned. "Aren't you going to tell me that this is wrong? That Aldric is being selfish and putting his own needs first, regardless of the risks this may pose to him—or to me?"

Geneva smiled. "In his position, would you have acted any differently?"

Aodhán's grimace deepened, and she continued, "Aldric is being selfish and reckless. He holds very little value for his own safety and possibly borders on self-destructive tendencies. He's focused too keenly on power—and equates strength with worth. All bad things, and yet, all important characteristics of a champion." She paused and smiled. "All characteristics you share."

Aodhán closed his eyes and sighed, unable to deny the truth in Geneva's words. He massaged his temples and muttered, "You're right."

"Of course, I am." Geneva's smile grew as her holographic screen flickered forward. "Now, I'll ask you once again. What's the worst that could happen to Aldric if you do this?"

This was where the problem lay. When Aodhán began listing out everything that could go wrong, he realized that there was no end to it. The power of his skill could be so potent that it could completely obliterate Aldric's sanity. Or, depending on the treasures he was absorbing at the time, he could gain an affinity so terrible that it killed him outright. The possibilities were endless.

More importantly, though, it felt wrong—like the very thought of it went against the natural order of things. Against the will of something... or someone greater? What if it worked but attracted the attention of something from beyond? From the void of space? From another planet?

Okay, he was overreaching at this point, but that didn't eliminate the fact that ÆFLYM was one sentient world among thousands. Aodhán didn't want to think too highly of himself, but he didn't know as much about this world as he had once believed—not with the secrets lurking in every corner.

What he did know was that they were part of a collective—a term he hadn't heard in a long time but could deduce its meaning. What if his actions drew their attention? One might think he was being overly paranoid, but after everything that had happened lately, Aodhán felt he had every right to be this paranoid.

He only listed a few of the fears swirling in his mind before Geneva raised a hand to stop him. "That's quite enough. I get the point. A million things could go wrong, but if you were looking for someone to pull you back or talk you off this insanity, you wouldn't have called a champion. You would have called a professor or your parents. You called me not because you want me to dissuade you, but because you want me to guide you. So, I'll only say it once. Put those fears aside, and let's turn your brother into a deviant."

"What's a deviant?" Aodhán asked, genuinely curious.

"Ssshh. Let's get to work. I don't have all night."

"Why?" Aodhán asked, his lips curling up into a teasing smile. "Do you have a man waiting for you somewhere?"

Geneva gave him the side-eye. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes. I really do have a man waiting for me at home, and if he finds out I blew off rest with him to deal with your issue, he's going to be a grumpy bitch all week."

Aodhán chuckled, picturing grumpy Artemis in his mind. The image came easily—unsurprisingly—and he laughed again.

"I guess we're doing it then," Aodhán stated, and Geneva smiled.

"Yes, we are, just as soon as you figure out a way to hide the inevitable explosion of energy and willpower that will billow out as soon as you do this."

Aodhán groaned. "Oh, fuck. We can't let Principal Zatya find out about this, especially if it works. She'll either use it for her own gains or scold the living soul out of me."

"Which means you'll need to find a concealment chamber of sufficient strength to perform the ritual." Geneva frowned, glancing down at the academy. "You should find a few in the academy library or hospital."

"I'll check." Aodhán sighed, his gaze narrowing in thought.

Geneva nodded. "When do you want to do this?"

"Friday," Aodhán blurted out immediately. If they did it right now, he could probably regenerate his seals before the forge matches, but he would rather not take that risk. Two dim seals were going to stand out to everyone like a beacon at midnight. Friday was better. That way, he could hide his participation in all this with Professor Jorendil's mission.

He and Geneva spoke for nearly half an hour, planning the logistics involved, and when they finished, Geneva said to him, "Don't worry, we'll figure this all out. Also, just to be safe, I'll place a rune on Aldric to eliminate the threat of death in case this goes sideways, which I seriously doubt it will."

Aodhán nodded mutely, slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing. His conversation with Geneva had scaled down his fears significantly. Forcing a smile, he waved goodbye as she tore a portal open and vanished.

She was right. He hadn't called her to talk him off this decision or dissuade him. If he wanted to be dissuaded, he would have spoken to Daruk, but Aldric needed his help. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? Aside from death, which Geneva promised to deal with, what else could actually, really go wrong?

Pushing his fears aside, he settled back down on the cloud and closed his eyes to meditate. They hadn't completed the logistics regarding the whole thing, but Aodhán was certain they would figure it out. Perhaps Geneva could create a detached plane that she could cloak from Principal Zatya's perception as well as that of all the other mythics in the academy. It would be hard, but not impossible if Geneva really set her mind to it.

Already, he could hear Principal Zatya gritting her teeth in frustration as she dealt with another crisis if things went south on this one, but that was exactly why he couldn't tell her. If he did, she would either agree and turn this into some sort of experiment she could use to further her own goals, or she'd freak out and ban it outright.

Aodhán didn't want her having any more information about him than she already had. She knew too much already, and giving this sort of information to someone who was trying to transform him into her own personal killing machine was foolishness at its best.

No doubt, she would find out eventually, but hopefully, by then, the deed would have been done without crisis, and Aldric would be long gone from the academy, where she couldn't reach him. With a sigh, he muttered, "Raol, please don't make me regret this."

Varéc soon returned, and together, they flew back to the academy. They settled onto the roof of House Fourteen, and Aodhán patted Varéc's snout affectionately.

"Is this foolish and impulsive of me?" he whispered, reluctant to repeat the same mistakes he always made. His mission with Geneva had changed him—or at least, he thought it had—but now he wasn't so sure.

Varéc growled, and Aodhán chuckled. "Well, that's true. I'm not just jumping into this. I'm actually thinking it through now. I even called Geneva."

Varéc huffed, and Aodhán grimaced. "No, Daruk's not going to take it well. He's still too pissed at Aldric to see what I see."

Varéc let out a low, crackling rasp, like distant lightning, and Aodhán scowled at the insult. "I'm not scared of Daruk," he muttered defensively. "I'm just cautious. That reminds me—I need to talk to him about his flaring-out issue. I'm not sure he's alright."

Varéc growled again, settling on the roof to enjoy the warmth of the setting sun while Aodhán stared at him with a bemused look. Their conversation continued for a few more minutes before Aodhán finally floated down to join his friends in the cafeteria for dinner.

However, the moment he walked into the cafeteria, he was greeted with a noise of whispers so loud and jumbled that it was almost impossible to pick out individual words. The air buzzed with frantic whispers, gasps, and murmurs, all weaving together into a singular wave of excitement.

But Aodhán didn't need to hear the specifics—he already knew what was happening. At the center of the room stood Cyrus Valerion and Lilith Bloodmoon, both with their right arms raised to proudly display the icons branded onto their wrists.

Aodhán clenched his jaw, a flicker of jealousy creeping up on him. He pushed the emotion aside quickly, but it was too late. Kellan Dravenor had already picked up on it, a smug, knowing smirk tugging at his lips, as if he'd sensed the vulnerability from a mile away.

He muttered something to Cyrus and Lilith, and they turned to him, their usual arrogance now sharpened into something colder—deadlier.

The power the icon had awakened in them was still settling deep within, but the way others watched them spoke volumes—Cyrus and Lilith had just stepped into a different level of power.

The competition had just gotten much worse.