The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Geneva watched the scene unfold with rapt attention, her holographic heart beating loudly as she witnessed Aodhán birth a natural treasure without even realizing it. It must have cost him an astronomical amount of energy and willpower for his tier, but more than that, it hinted at just how high Aodhán's spiritual cultivation was. And boy, was it high. Abnormally high. No one in the evolved class should be able to do this.

That single droplet of rain he'd created was so packed with his understanding and power that even now, more than seventy tiers above Aodhán, Geneva felt her cells come alive with the intent to absorb the energy despite the physical distance between them. Had she been physically present within the chamber, Geneva suspected she might have acted on the impulse.

Glancing up at Aodhán, Geneva wondered if he knew the value of the gift he had just given out. This was an opportunity people would kill for—an opportunity she would kill for, had she still been in the evolved class.

This skill… this ability—it was so far removed from what was normal that to call it extraordinary was an understatement. Geneva had seen storm awakeneds before, and yet none of them had exhibited an ability even remotely similar to this. But then, everything about Aodhán was different from ordinary, and all she could attribute it to was the raw strength of his spirit to carry these powerful skills.

It was one thing to create a powerful skill and another to be able to use said skill to its fullest capacity. The core supplied the energy and willpower used to activate skills and techniques, but the spirit was the one that lent it real power—drawing out its full potential and bearing the weight of its manifestation. In essence, the reason skills didn't evolve was simply because they became stronger alongside a person's spirit. The same innate skills she had begun her advancement with were the same skills she had now, but their power had grown drastically because her spirit had grown in power.

It was the same in Aodhán's case, but at a very accelerated level. Perhaps his spirit had always been strong. He had survived a tribulation, after all, and culled an origin breach not too long after.

Geneva had seen what he was capable of. She knew what he had done at the Steppin' Plains and had witnessed the full extent of his power during their mission together. Yet even with all that, she couldn't help the awe that bloomed within her now. This wasn't just another feat. This was something else entirely.

Storm was a destructive element—with its hurricanes, cyclones, and howling winds. It was an element of battle, or at least, it was supposed to be. But Aodhán's understanding of it was something else entirely. Something she couldn't believe the storm had birthed. The fact that Aodhán was an inheritor couldn't explain this. None of the storm-awakened who had ever ascended had possessed a skill like this.

If this worked…

Her gaze dropped to Aldric, whose eyes were wide with wonder as he leaned forward, body shuddering as the golden droplet splashed against his forehead and simply vanished.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then—

Power erupted from within him.

It rippled out in an instant, unseen yet felt—not as sound or wind, but as an undeniable shift in presence. Geneva herself couldn't feel it, as she wasn't physically present, but she deduced its weight from the way Daruk and Aodhán reacted—both taking several steps back, eyes wide—as the strange power settled over them like a blanket of absolute sovereignty.

The air grew heavy—not with aura or force, but with something far more invasive.

It was understanding. Deep, unbearable understanding—tainted by the power of dozens of treasures, each one appearing as runes on Aldric's skin as they marked their insight in gold.

"Can you sense anything?" Daruk asked Geneva urgently, as Aldric's shuddering intensified almost to a convulsion.

"Not much." She replied truthfully. "Perhaps, if I were really here."

"He's alright," Aodhán whispered, uncertain how he knew for sure. Notifications binged in his mind, but he ignored them, focusing instead on Aldric and the changes spreading across his body. His once-black hair had turned ashen, save for two strands of reddish-gold that glowed with quiet intensity. Tiny runes etched themselves in a scattered pattern across his skin, looking more like tattoos than marks of power.

Just as Aodhán opened his mouth to ask Geneva about the runes, a second ripple of power burst from Aldric, quicker than the first.

Aodhán created a shield construct to protect himself and Daruk from the ripple, but the attack wasn't physical, and it passed through the shield effortlessly. Moments later, the energy struck, and Aodhán gasped as a sound tolled inside his mind like church bells, its frequency wrenching his emotions into turmoil despite the calm enforced by {Eye of the Storm}.

Cursing, he dismissed the shield, but the sight that greeted him halted whatever words he had been about to utter.

A new seal marked Aldric's chest, burning with an intensity that overshadowed the first. Rather than silver, though, the seal was a bright gold—so blinding that it shone like a mini sun.

Aodhán was still coming to terms with the sight in front of him when another seal joined the second, this one a bright purple streaked with red. It wasn't quite as bright as the gold, but it shone with an intensity that couldn't be denied.

"By all the ascendants," Geneva breathed, eyes wide as she watched Aldric's transformation with more experienced eyes.

"What is going on?" Aodhán asked, completely at a loss.

"He's weaving his understanding," Geneva said, as if that explained everything. "He's not just evolving or expanding his affinity—he's weaving multiple aspects of it all at once."

Aodhán caught none of it, but from her expression, it was clearly significant. Daruk, however, seemed to grasp the gist; his eyes widened. He glanced at Aodhán and explained, "It's like understanding the storm as both chaos and order at the same time. Instead of evolving from one to the other, Aldric's old and new understandings are growing together, merging into a single whole."

Geneva frowned as if she wanted to correct his words, but shrugged instead. "Not quite, but I guess you understand the concept."

"What does it mean, though?" Aodhán asked again, impatience creeping into his voice. "I understand your words in theory, but I'm more concerned about what it means for Aldric. Is this some impossible situation?"

Geneva thought for a moment before responding, feigning the extent of her astonishment so as not to alarm them. "It's not an impossible situation exactly. It's just like gaining a familiar at the evolved class."

Aodhán cursed, and Daruk muttered something under his breath before asking. "Is this going to hinder him in any way? Will it affect how he gains seals in the future?"

Geneva chuckled. "Oh, I don't think anything will be hindering Aldric anytime soon. If this works as I think it will, then you've given him a real shot at the 100th tier."

Aodhán exhaled in relief—grateful he hadn't broken his brother. Aldric unlocking something far beyond his league was unsettling, but at least the seals could be hidden, unlike Varéc.

For several minutes, Aodhán watched Aldric silently, wondering if he'd gain a new skill—or even an icon. Ripples of power pulsed from Aldric continuously, each one faster and stronger than the last.

With each ripple of resonance, the power emanating from Aldric grew until it was almost overwhelming. The ripples tore through Aodhán, disrupting his emotions despite how deeply he buried himself in {Eye of the Storm}.

"How long will this take?" Daruk grimaced as another ripple struck within a minute. "Did it take this long for the soldiers at the Steppin' Plains?"

"No," Aodhán said through gritted teeth, steadying himself and Varéc with willpower. "But they only experienced about ten percent of what Aldric's facing now."

The ripples grew in intensity until it was all Aodhán could do to breathe without losing control. Geneva did what little she could from afar, but without being physically present, there was little she could do.

For the next eight minutes, Aodhán and Daruk endured as their emotions went haywire, dropping into a state of nonexistence one moment and then doubling in intensity the next. It rose like a tide within them, all their fears, desires, and regrets bubbling to the surface uncontrollably.

It pressed into their chests and skulls, rising with each ripple. But just as Aodhán was about to lose it completely, the resonance ceased—and silence slammed down on them like a closed vault.

Breathing heavily, Aodhán glanced up at Aldric for the first time in nearly ten minutes, and his eyes widened at the sight that greeted him once more.

Aldric's skin had darkened imperceptibly, his hair had lengthened, and his body had become more chiseled. It wasn't as much of a transformation as a full evolution or bloodline awakening, but it was enough that Aldric could easily pass for someone with a common bloodline if he so chose.

As fascinating as those changes were, they paled in comparison to the transformation in his eyes. His irises, once black, were now twin pools of slate gray ringed with two distinct bands. The first—a thin strip of silver—marked his willpower evolution. The second, a thick band of reddish-gold, gleamed brighter than the irises themselves.

A presence of control radiated from him, and on the right side of his chest was a vivid manifestation of golden Lichtenberg scars—an exact replica of Aodhán's.

Almost fluidly, Aldric rose to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate. He did not sway. He did not hesitate. He simply stood—unhindered, as if the weight of the world had finally adjusted to him, not the other way around.

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Their gazes locked, and Aodhán tensed, expecting the twisted effect to take Aldric at any moment. Instead, Aldric smiled and said, "Do not fear, Aodhán. The twisted effect cannot take me anymore. Not unless I allow it."

***

Aldric observed the world with new eyes.

The moment the golden raindrop had splashed onto his forehead, his mind had expanded—stretching wide in an attempt to comprehend everything at once. And comprehend he had.

He had meditated on every thought, idea, insight, and inspiration. Everything he knew about his affinity, he had woven into a deeper understanding, coloring it with the insights drawn from the absorbed treasures. Despite his efforts, he had failed to merge all the insights into one. His understanding of emotional resonance couldn't be reconciled with the tyranny of emotions gained from the Hollow Fang and the Bloodtyrant's Horn. So, he had formed two distinct understandings—and earned a seal for each one.

After the seals imprinted, the origin plane had opened to him—no longer crashing against him like waves against a cliff. Now, it flowed through him, around him, above and beneath him. He didn't need to open his spirit to reach it anymore. The origin plane was all around him. He simply had to channel it.

Exhaling deeply, Aldric glanced around, shuddering slightly as the world poured into him—not as sight or color, but as images, feelings, and emotion. They pressed in from all angles, not merely as raw sensation but as meaning. Every single object carried an emotional imprint—left by its maker or the people who had used it. These imprints pressed against him, glowing almost as brightly as the two emotional pools just a few feet away.

An hour ago, those pools would have been beyond his reach due to their class. Now, touching them was as easy as breathing. With the barest effort, he smoothed the jagged edges of Aodhán's and Daruk's emotional states, gently clearing away fear and worry so that the curiosity buried beneath could rise to the surface.

The tension drained from their shoulders instantly, and Aodhán asked, "How are you resisting the twisted effect?"

Aldric shrugged, still adjusting to the heightened sensitivity of his emotional senses. "It's a perversion of emotion, Aodhán. If I don't give in to it, it cannot take me."

It was true. The twisted effect was chaos corrupting emotion, pressing against him constantly—but his grasp on his own emotions was unyielding. He couldn't resist it forever; he would eventually need to release the excess chaos in his spirit. But for now, he could hold it off for a few hours at least.

Daruk nodded, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "How do you feel?"

Aldric took a moment before responding.
"Different," he said at last. "I feel connected to the world in a way I've never felt before."

"You've evolved your spirit opening into a channel, then," Geneva surmised, her expression scrunching into a frown. "That's no easy feat."

"It's not," Aldric agreed, then turned his gaze to Aodhán. "And it's all thanks to you, brother. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"You don't need to," Aodhán said with a shake of his head. "I'm just glad it worked—that you're alive and sane."

Aldric studied him for a moment, parsing the chaotic emotions raging around Aodhán's mind before asking, "Do you need this vortex of maddening rage surrounding your thoughts?"

Aodhán froze, his eyes widening as Aldric's presence brushed gently against the edges of his mind, making it perfectly clear what he was referring to.

After a beat, Aodhán shook his head. "No. I don't need it."

"Then would you like me to get rid of it?"

Relief swelled within Aodhán—thick, overwhelming, almost choking. He couldn't find the words to express how grateful he was, how much lighter the idea alone made him feel. He had lived with this vortex of rage for almost six months. He had drawn power from it at times, using it as a source of fury and strength when necessary, but that wasn't enough to compensate for its downsides, and the loss of rationality it caused should {Eye of the Storm} be disabled. If Aldric could remove it, he would gladly let it go.

So, he simply nodded.

Aldric smiled softly, then raised his hands to Aodhán's head. His fingers shimmered with reddish-gold essence as he gently pressed them to the sides of Aodhán's skull.

Aodhán shuddered at the contact, jaw clenching as a strange, weightless energy seeped into his mind. It wasn't like lightning, or wind, or any force he'd ever known.

It was empathy—raw, unfiltered.

Aldric wasn't fighting the rage. He was understanding it.

He reached in, and Aodhán's breath hitched. For a moment, nothing happened. Then—the floodgates burst open.

Memories crashed into him like a tidal wave. A child, too young to understand grief, watching blood pool beneath his feet as his home burned to ash. A boy, kneeling in the rain, fists clenched so tightly they bled. The sickening scent of ozone as lightning tore a ship full of passengers apart—splintered wood, shattered bodies, blood. Claws drenched in crimson as he tore cultists to pieces.

Anger. Pain. Rage.

Rage had been his answer to everything. To grief. To guilt. To heartbreak. It had shaped him and driven him. It was the lens through which he saw the world.

And now, it was unraveling.

His muscles tensed, as if resisting the pull, but Aldric's presence remained steady—unwavering. Aodhán could feel it—his own rage, curling like smoke, lifted from him, pulled into something vast and endless. Something that did not fight, did not struggle—only understood.

The vortex unraveled. The rage vanished, and in its place—silence.

A peaceful, absolute silence that made Aodhán's thoughts echo crystal clear for the first time in months.

Aodhán gasped, his knees buckled, but Aldric caught him.

It was gone. The storm of ever-present fury that had plagued him all his life was just... gone. Exhaling in relief, Aodhán felt Eye of the Storm settle more comfortably into his mind, enhancing his perception and mental clarity now that it no longer had to dedicate half its energy to holding back the howling storm of rage.

The stillness was foreign—yet more than welcome. So welcome, in fact, that he felt tears well up in his eyes. Unashamed, he let them fall. For the first time in months, he could live without the fear of suddenly losing it and killing those he loved.

Daruk moved closer to comfort him while Geneva watched from the side, eyes moist as she watched the three brothers hold each other.

They stayed that way for a while, their emotions more content and serene than any of them could ever remember. Aodhán tried to remember the guilt and rage, but there was nothing. The memories remained, but their edges were dull, stripped of the heat that had once set his mind aflame.

When they finally pulled back, Aodhán grabbed Aldric by the shoulders and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Aldric. I think you know how much this means to me."

"I do." Aldric smiled back at him. "But I'm only able to help you because you helped me first. I will be in your debt for a very long time, Aodhán. Remember, I'm always in your corner."

Aodhán nodded and turned his gaze to Geneva, who smiled at him. "I am happy for you, Aodhán. Truly. I'm not sure you understand the extent of what you just did for Aldric. I'm not sure even he understands, but I'm glad you decided to do this in private. The world must not hear of this… yet." She glanced at Aldric and Daruk. "I really hope you understand what I'm trying to say."

"I think we do," Daruk replied soberly. Aodhán and Aldric nodded, and Geneva sighed.

"Then I'll leave you guys for now." Her gaze returned to Aldric, and she smiled. "You still owe me a debt, young man, and I know just the perfect way you can pay me back. I'll come for you tonight. Meet me outside the academy."

Aldric nodded, and without further delay, Geneva vanished, leaving the three brothers to stare at the spot she had just stood in a mixture of relief and gratitude. They stood in silence for a moment before Daruk asked. "So, what did you gain? Can we see?"

"Of course," Aldric replied and waved a hand, sharing his screen with Aodhán and Daruk.

Still ignoring the host of notifications blinking at the corner of his vision, Aodhán opened Aldric's screen and began reading.

[STATUS]

Name: Aldric Brystion

Title: Neophyte, Bronze, Seal Bearer (3), Deviant, Silver, Adept, Storm-marked, The Hollow Heart That Sees.

Class: Emotion Awakened.

Tier: 29—36.5%

Glimpse---> Grasp---> Opening---> Channel: Increase conceptual affinity and manipulation by 4%.

Technique: Garrow's Flowing Might technique. The Ironbody Foundation. The Cindrael Cognition technique. Still waters meditation technique.

Skills {Innate}: [Sense Emotion] [Emotional Manipulation]

{Deviant}: Tyrant of Boundless Empathy.

{Other}: [Empathic Link] [Aura Reading] [Empathic Shielding] [Pseudo Mind Control—Crude] [Emotional Manipulation Resistance] [Empathic Resonance] [Empathic Thief] [Unseen Bonds] [Soul Imprint]

Congratulations! You have gained a new seal.

Congratulations! You have gained a new seal.

{Tyrant of Boundless Empathy}: You have refined your understanding of the concept of empathy in a deviant direction, emphasizing control and persuasion over the gentleness of empathy. You have now gained a passive area of influence. Upon activation of this skill, anyone within your area of influence gradually attunes to your emotions, thoughts, and desires. This manifests as a near-absolute synchronization of emotion, forging an instinctive unity of will. This effect does not impose mind control but aligns those affected through sheer empathic tyranny.

NB: This is a deviant skill. It is unhindered by class and should work on anyone no more than thirty tiers above you, except if the target is willing.

{Empathic Thief}: You can eliminate or steal emotions from a person's emotional pool, completely stopping them from ever feeling such emotions again.

{Unseen Bonds}: By touching an object frequently held by someone else, you feel the lingering emotions imprinted on it.

{Soul Imprint}: You can leave an imprint on whoever's emotions you interact with, making it vastly difficult for other empaths to manipulate them without breaking your imprint first.

NB: Imprint strength is directly proportional to your strength at the time of activation.

[The Hollow Heart That Sees]: A title bestowed upon one who casts aside their own lesser emotions to channel the concept of empathy, standing as beings who understand yet remain untouched by said emotions.

[Storm-Marked]: You have absorbed a very large amount of storm energy, tempered by the willpower and seal quintessence of Aodhán Ashoka-Brystion. His understanding is now a building block in your advancement.

***

Aodhán's eyes widened as he read through the list of skills and titles that Aldric had just gained. Despite how powerful all his gains were, {Tyrant of Boundless Empathy} still took the crown. The skill was so overpowered that it broke through the class barrier, working on anyone within a thirty-tier range.

What that meant was that Aldric could use the skill on an advanced class awakened at the 59th tier, and it would work, granting him almost seamless control over their emotions.

What's more, the skill didn't just grant him the ability to subtly persuade people but to control them psychically. At higher tiers, it could mean a complete mental and emotional alignment, where entire armies instinctively obeyed him through sheer will convergence.

"By the Ascendants," Aodhán breathed, at a complete loss for words. With a skill like that, Aldric had just become near-invincible—and Aodhán could already imagine a thousand things he could do with it.

Daruk exchanged a glance with him and cursed. "Damn. You've got to help me, too. Not now—I need to gather some treasure first—but… what the fuck!"

Aldric chuckled and dismissed the screens. "Like I said, I can't thank you enough for what I've gained. You've given me hope and opportunities I never could've imagined on my own. I still don't know what I want to do with it all, but I've got time to figure it out."

"Just make sure it's legal," Daruk half-joked.

Aldric rolled his eyes. "I'm not stupid, Daruk. I've learned my lesson."

"I'm glad you have," Aodhán said with a smile. "I'm not sure what tasks Geneva has planned for you, but the military is a solid option. That way, you'd be under Fortuna's protection. It's not the only path, but it's worth considering."

"It is," Aldric said with a smirk. "I promise to think about it."

"You'll figure it out. Just don't rush into anything." Aodhán smiled encouragingly, although his mind was still hung up on Daruk's first statement. Anyone who found out how Aldric got this skill would definitely want it too, and in the case that he refused, wouldn't they take it by force?

Still, if he could help his friends, their victory in the tournament was all but assured. At first, Aodhán wondered if aiding them might come at a cost to himself, but with the rage in his mind now gone, the effect of {Eye of the Storm} had nearly doubled, and his perception was steadily rising again.

With just a little effort, he could probably silence his mind completely—creating a space of absolute calm and silence. The prospect intrigued him, and he decided to try it immediately.

Before he could, though, another notification pinged in his mind, joining the list of messages blinking at the corner of his vision. This one wasn't a system message, though. It was a message from Professor Jorendil.

"Meet me in my office at your earliest convenience. We need to discuss the exhibition we spoke about earlier."