The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Aodhán didn't say a word to Varéc even after he stepped out of the bathroom, toweling his hair and feeling like a barely functioning corpse. Instead, he waited until he was fully dressed before turning to face his familiar, who was frankly too large to keep in the house anymore. Even in his reduced and weakened form, Varéc's every movement wreaked havoc on the room, tearing furrows into the ceiling and causing runes to flare incessantly.

It was one of the reasons Aodhán had wanted to give Varéc freedom in the first place. The only other option was to keep him locked within his spirit, but Aodhán had experienced firsthand why that was a bad idea. Until they gained a size-shaping perk, freedom had seemed the best option, but now Aodhán was rethinking it.

As unkillable as Varéc was, he could very easily be captured or kidnapped. Allowing him to roam free put not just him in danger, but also other people. Aodhán thought he'd conquered this fear long ago, but it turned out he hadn't—an hour ago, he'd felt it rise within him like a tide, overwhelming and consuming.

As angry as he was, he was scared too. Fear simmered beneath the layer of anger. It had subsided now that Varéc was safely within sight, but in those first seconds after he'd been forcefully woken by the savage pull of willpower, it had been nearly crippling.

Ever since he'd gained Varéc, he'd always known where he was, even if he went as far as another sector. Aodhán had always been able to feel him, hear his thoughts, and sense his emotions and location. Varéc had never entered a dungeon without him before, so Aodhán had been unprepared for the complete absence of sensation that followed.

It was like they'd been cut off entirely. Aodhán could still sense him, but that was all. He hadn't been able to sense his location or thoughts, and naturally, he'd assumed the worst.

Varéc looked up and growled, eyes widening in hope when he noticed Aodhán's attention on him. Shifting quickly, he presented three cores to Aodhán, nudging them closer with a clawed limb like a peace offering.

The cores rolled to nudge Aodhán's feet, their crystalline bodies clinking like glass. Aodhán stared at them for a moment before sighing. "What would I do with you, Varéc?"

Their bond pulsed with sudden warmth as Varéc sent a wave of emotion and images—warm hugs and cuddles—through their psychic link. It almost worked, but Aodhán wasn't willing to forgive him so easily. What Varéc had done was wrong, and he knew it. This was the time for serious talking.

Aodhán, however, had no idea where to begin or what to say without sounding like a hypocrite. How could he scold Varéc for the same things he did? This was the exact issue Principal Zatya and Daruk always complained about, and here he was, mad at Varéc for doing the same thing.

Letting out a deep exhale, Aodhán knelt until his eyes were level with Varéc's and simply let the words flow.

"I was scared today," he began softly. "When I woke up and couldn't sense your location, I thought maybe you'd been captured or kidnapped. I could sense that you were still alive, but the dungeon space muddied everything else. I couldn't sense your thoughts or emotions, and when you kept pulling on my willpower, I thought you were in danger."

He caressed Varéc's horn gently and continued. "I have half a mind to keep you locked away within my spirit for both our good, but I know that wouldn't help matters. However, I can't simply let you roam around as you wish anymore. It's not safe for you, and after today, my mind will never be at peace with it."

Varéc growled again, head lowering in repentance, and Aodhán smiled sadly. "I forgive you, Varéc, but until we gain a size-altering perk, I've decided to keep you locked within my spirit. Your nightly hunts are cut down to twice a week, and I will follow you for both. It will cut into my sleep time, but that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Varéc growled once more, pulling away from Aodhán in anger, but Aodhán simply dusted his hands and stood up. "I know you won't like this, but until we come up with a better solution, this is our new arrangement."

He stretched a hand to caress Varéc once again, and this time Varéc allowed him. Aodhán smiled. "This will be temporary, I promise. In the meantime, we need to start working out how we can get you that size-altering perk."

Varéc's mood shifted, his eyes widening in hope, and Aodhán chuckled. "Yes, that will mean more battles together. The next time I challenge the tower, we'll do it side by side from beginning to end."

Growling in acceptance, Varéc returned to Aodhán's spirit, and with a sigh, Aodhán made his way to the gym, barely saying hi to Meredith as he walked past her down the stairs. He met up with Andrew, Daruk, and Yurin in their usual meeting spot, arriving just before they could begin their usual games of betting.

The three of them growled in annoyance, and Yurin asked, "Why are you so early today? Did you even sleep at all?"

"No, I didn't," Aodhán replied, still very tired. "Varéc ruined the little nap I would have taken."

He created a storm platform large enough to carry them all, then narrated everything that had happened with Varéc, including how he'd had to pay off the guards of the Valdren family to keep everything quiet.

When he finished speaking, Andrew muttered, "I can imagine how scary that must have been. But I'm glad you were able to settle it without issues. The Valdrens aren't known for their kindness, after all."

"I'm aware of that, and as much as I want to be mad at Varéc, I really can't because he's just an animalistic version of me—impulsive and too easily excited."

"It seems you've been doing some self-introspection," Daruk smiled. "Good. That's the first step to getting better."

Aodhán snorted. "I know my failings, Daruk, and yes, I can now see how it can be annoying."

They laughed, and then Yurin asked, "So, how do you expect to go about getting the size-altering perk? Is it something that can be controlled like skills?"

Aodhán shook his head, about to say no, but paused to think for a moment and then shrugged. "It can't simply be created like a skill, but I guess it can be nudged. I'm not sure. I gained the berserk perk after Varéc and I tore through the Silverwing icedrake's innards with our bare fists."

Aodhán had told them this story before. Still, Andrew and Yurin blinked back the mental image his words conjured. Daruk, however, just frowned and continued the conversation as if the image of Aodhán tearing through the stomach of a drake meant little to him.

"If it can be nudged," he asked, "how would you even go about that?"

Aodhán shrugged. "I have no idea. If we don't get it soon, though, I can only hope it'll come with my evolution into the advanced class, because by then, 'big' would be an inadequate word to describe Varéc."

They all nodded, and after a while, Yurin smiled. "Speaking of evolutions, our orders from the emporium arrive today, and since Andrew and I won't be participating in the tournament, we've decided to push for it."

"The advanced class?" Aodhán asked, surprised.

Andrew nodded. "It's obvious. We can't win today's trial, not with you here, and Lady Luck has never been kind to either Yurin or me. There's no point in dilly-dallying."

Yurin nodded. "Principal Zatya did promise to give the top ten students from each year a Mythic core. I'm not sure how she intends to calculate that now, but I suspect they might make another ranking to calculate our overall scores in the trials. If I win a mythic core, there's no way I'm staying in the evolved class for more than a day."

"Me too," Andrew agreed. "My spiritual foundation is as strong as it can be already. I've also maxed out my class energy requirement. There's no point in delaying it."

Aodhán smiled. "Well, then I wish you guys the best of luck. If I don't win this trial, I will definitely join you."

"You will win," Daruk cut in with a glare. "There's no way the three of you will leave me behind in the evolved class. I will not allow it."

They all laughed and teased Daruk after that. Unlike the rest of them, Daruk had already secured a spot in the tournament, which meant he couldn't evolve until it was over.

They bickered and teased each other for the rest of the ride until they arrived at the gymnasium, where they found Coach Harvey in his usual spot, glaring at the attendance note in his hands.

He waved them in without his usual quip or playful threat, except for a slight murmur when Aodhán helped him pick up a pen he'd dropped. Something was obviously weighing on his mind, but Aodhán wasn't close enough to the man to pry. Instead, he lingered behind while his friends entered the gymnasium and asked, "Are you okay, sir?"

Coach Harvey looked up at him and forced a smile. "I am well, just in a bit of a mood this morning. Don't worry about it."

Aodhán nodded, letting the matter go, even though he could tell something was truly wrong. He looked back at Coach Harvey just before he entered the gym and found him whispering urgently into his chip. He couldn't hear all of what Coach Harvey was saying, but his ears caught a phrase: "Text me back, brother. I haven't heard from you in weeks..."

Not wanting to eavesdrop on what was obviously a sensitive matter for Coach Harvey, Aodhán walked into the gymnasium and joined his friends. They did some light exercises while they waited for the real exercise to begin.

Coach Harvey walked into the gymnasium a few minutes later, looking far better than he had earlier, and smiled. "Okay, we've dallied enough. Pick a cell, and let us begin."

Aodhán picked the cell closest to him and walked to the center of the array, his mind narrowing to pinpoint focus as energy and willpower rushed into {Eye of the Storm}. Despite his exhaustion, he was ready to surpass his previous score and perhaps push himself to dodge twenty-four arrows.

"Begin!" Coach Harvey shouted a moment later, and Aodhán moved, ears twitching and eyes on high alert. His body moved fluidly, graceful even as arrows flew past him and the array adjusted to his speed.

For the next hour, Aodhán dodged, his body contorting and sliding gracefully around the cell. He was covered in bruises, but his gaze was sharp and his will unrelenting. For every bruise, he pushed himself harder, pulling on every ounce of his potential.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

It was exhilarating, and although Aodhán failed to meet his goals when the exercise finally ended, he had made significant progress in sharpening his reflexes.

Bruised and tired, he made his way out of the cell, and together, he and his friends made their way to the cafeteria. After a hearty breakfast that left Aodhán feeling a bit more strengthened, they all made their way to their different classes. Andrew and Daruk went their way, while Yurin and Aodhán made their way to the Runic laboratory.

The class was, as usual, interesting, but they didn't do anything new. Professor Caldwell simply went around the lab, helping those still having trouble perfecting their runes. Yurin was, of course, among this group.

Aodhán was genuinely surprised to see how far behind many of his coursemates were but was even more surprised to learn that Ankaz Urdania had left him behind and was now working on the 20th rune.

Needless to say, it lit a pyre of flames within him, and for the next two hours, Aodhán worked diligently on perfecting his runes. He spent over an hour on the rune of fragrance before finally getting it. He stared at the perfected rune for a moment before suddenly raising his hand to call Professor Caldwell's attention.

She looked up from Lyra Davenport's notes and raised an eyebrow. "Do you have a question, Aodhán?"

"Yes," Aodhán replied and pointed to the shimmering rune on his notes. "In what ways can the fragrance rune be used in combat? Can it even be used at all?"

Professor Caldwell smiled. "Everything and anything can be used in combat. You simply need to perceive it as a weapon. The moment you're able to do so, ideas will come flooding in." She walked to stand in front of the class and continued, addressing everyone this time. "A fragrance rune might seem subtle and useless at first glance, but it can be a powerful and strategic tool in combat, especially for assassins and illusionists. The important thing to note is that fragrance doesn't always have to be sweet-smelling. The scent of rotting flesh or musk is still a fragrance, albeit a bad one."

"The fragrance rune can be used in a myriad of ways. It can be used as a lure, bait, or distraction. It can also be used to reinforce illusions, especially at lower tiers, to give the illusions a stronger sense of believability. One of the major ways it can be used in combat, though, is to mask the scent of airborne toxins or poisons. This particular method of combat was common among the Unorians a few years ago when they were still active participants in the war."

"There are many other ways the fragrance rune has been used throughout history, but that's a topic I'll let you study on your own. Have I answered your question?"

Aodhán nodded, his expression contemplative. He knew that no rune or affinity was useless, but every time, the potential uses of certain skills, affinities, or runes still shocked him. Imagine being able to remove the scent of a deadly poison entirely or create an airborne toxin that had no fragrance at all.

On a battlefield, such an ability would lead to the death of hundreds, if not thousands. Aodhán looked back at the shimmering rune with renewed interest. He really needed to stop underestimating the power of runes.

The class ended shortly after that, and they all made their way to the arena for the selection trials. Aodhán walked side by side with Yurin, trying to quench the flutter of nerves in his belly as they drew closer to the arena.

"Are you nervous?" Yurin asked with a teasing smile.

Aodhán shrugged. "A little, but that's a good thing, I guess. I don't want to be too confident."

"No, you don't," Yurin nodded. "Overconfidence is the killer of fortune."

Aodhán chuckled and shook his head in amusement. The truth was that he wasn't nervous about the trial itself but about the fact that almost everyone expected him to win it. As motivating as that was, it was also a source of anxiety for him.

He didn't want to let anyone down, but most importantly, he didn't want to let himself down. This was his last chance to become a candidate for the tournament on his own merits. Winning the trial of luck wouldn't be quite as satisfying. Besides, if he did win the trial of luck, how would he know if it hadn't been manipulated in one way or another? No, this was his last chance at becoming a candidate, and he couldn't afford to fail.

Daruk and Andrew soon joined them, and together, they made their way to the arena for the trial of spirit. This time, Professor Daemon was the anchor, and as soon as the arena's entrance door slammed shut, he took to the stage, a cape of darkness rippling around him like wings.

Unlike the other anchors, Professor Daemon fixed them all with a glare so dark that the skies darkened imperceptibly. At first, Aodhán thought the man was angry, but when he flipped his cape so it billowed out with more volume around him, Aodhán simply realized that the man had a flair for dramatics.

When he reached the center of the stage, where a tall, translucent mantle stood, he leaned against it and spoke. "The trial of spirit is a measure of your spiritual foundation and cultivation. As you well know, this encompasses much more than just seals, icons, or familiars." His gaze darted to Aodhán for a moment before he continued. "Today, we will be measuring the strength of your spirit using what we call the spirit-sensing orb."

He pulled out a translucent glass ball, the size of a football, from his spatial storage and placed it on the mantle. The ball wobbled for a moment before stabilizing, and Professor Daemon finally smiled. "Unlike the other trials, this trial has no scores to help us determine the winner. We will simply have to use our eyes. The orb glows a different color to indicate a person's spiritual cultivation, ranging from black for a crude spirit to gold for perfect spiritual cultivation."

"There are seven colors in all: black, gray, red, blue, green, violet, and gold. But even with these colors, there are varying shades of intensity. The person with the greatest intensity will be the winner of this trial." He picked up the orb once more and pointed to the holographic screen in the sky. "For those of you without an eidetic memory, this screen will keep track of all the colors and intensity of every student. Also, it is important to remember that the orb judges your spiritual cultivation in relation to your tier. There's an expectation of what your spiritual cultivation should be at any given tier. Very few people reach that expectation, but I have high hopes for some of you. Now, let us begin. First-years, please make your way to the stage."

Taking a deep breath, Aodhán stood up and walked toward the stage with Andrew and Yurin walking behind him. They joined the queue somewhere in the middle, and Aodhán didn't fail to notice the hundreds of eyes following him—students and professors alike.

"Well, that's a lot of attention," Andrew muttered, but Aodhán didn't respond. Somewhere during Professor Daemon's speech, his nerves had disappeared. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was confident of victory, but he sure as hell wasn't jittering in his boots.

Professor Daemon placed the orb back on the mantle and called the first student to make their way to the stage. Aida Simms walked up, her steps a little nervous as she approached him.

He handed the orb to her and spoke. "Channel a weave of energy and willpower into the orb. It will do the rest."

Aida nodded, then wrapped her hands around the orb. Inhaling deeply, she channeled a single weave of energy and willpower into it. At first nothing happened, but a moment later, the orb began to glow softly, changing hues rapidly before settling on a vivid blue color, meaning she was at the 4th stage of spiritual cultivation for her tier. For someone with no bloodline and only one seal, blue wasn't too bad, to be honest.

Aida handed the orb back to Professor Daemon with a disappointed expression, and it immediately returned to its translucent nature, the color evaporating until the orb was as clear as glass.

Aida walked off the stage, and her friend, Maggie Stewart, stepped up. Professor Daemon handed the orb to her, and she wrapped her hands around it. There was no delay this time. The orb shone a dull red, which meant she had an even weaker spiritual cultivation compared to Aida.

The third person to go up was Derek Sylithen, the changeling. He walked up to the orb confidently and wrapped his hands around it. There was only a slight delay this time, but a moment later, the orb shone a vibrant blue color. The intensity was far greater than Aida's, making him the student with the highest spiritual cultivation so far.

One by one, students stepped up to measure their spiritual cultivation. Most of them were within the blue range, while others were within the red range. It was disappointing in a way, and when the twentieth student stepped down after a dull blue glow, Aodhán wondered just what the expectations of the orb were. How many seals should they have gotten by now? What stage of understanding should they have reached? What rank of techniques should they have?

The next few minutes passed uneventfully, and Derek retained his position at the top until Gwendolyn Tideborn stepped up. She walked toward the orb nervously, fingers flexing by her side. When she reached the orb, she took a deep breath and then wrapped her arms around it.

This time, the orb lay dormant for nearly two seconds before it suddenly exploded with a vibrant green hue that bathed the stage in light. Cheers rang out in appreciation. Green was good. It meant she had a spiritual cultivation above average.

Lupin went up next, her gait confident. She wrapped her hands around the orb, and a moment later, it exploded with a green glow once more. Aodhán couldn't really tell the difference in light intensity. Still, the holographic screen shifted, and her name suddenly appeared at the top, putting her above Gwendolyn in terms of spiritual strength.

More students went up, but it wasn't until Imani stepped up that Gwendolyn's record was broken. Stepping up just after Marcellus, who had gotten a green glow even dimmer than Gwendolyn's, she walked toward the orb with a confident gait and clasped it with both hands.

A second passed. And then another. And then—

The orb shone a deep violet color, whose intensity overshadowed any other before it. It bathed the entire stage in color, causing a wave of gasps from nearly everyone still in the row. Those who hadn't quite sensed the change in Imani's spirit, like Aodhán had, began changing their perspective of her, moving her higher on the rankings of people they considered a threat. Even Aodhán. Despite sensing her core, it was a different experience entirely to see that she had a near-perfect spiritual cultivation and foundation.

Cheers rose from the audience, and Imani stepped off the stage with a sly grin, turning her nose up at Marcellus when he tried to take her hand.

Indiana Remus went up next, but she failed to reach the violet stage, instead coming up with a very vibrant green. Alesh Vilaris, Eren Thornhill, Harnoth Darkwater, Kellan Dravenor, Meredith Castowal, Celeste Reginald, Ankaz Urdania, Ursaz Urdania, and Grendar Bladewynn fell into the same category, each coming out with different shades of green, albeit with high intensity.

For nearly half an hour, Imani retained the first position until Azul Fetherson stepped up. She clasped the orb with both hands and inhaled deeply before pushing a single weave of energy and willpower into the orb.

Just like with Imani, the orb stayed dormant for nearly three seconds before exploding with a violet hue. This time, however, the intensity of the orb was so bright that it reached past the stage to the first row of seats.

Aodhán didn't know how many seals Azul had, but such a high spiritual cultivation meant her understanding of her affinity was very high.

However, Azul didn't get to enjoy the title of first for long before it was brutally snatched by Lysirel Cosmind, whose violet light shone so intensely it bathed the first three rows in light.

Things devolved from there as Cyrus stepped up next, his pink hair blowing in the wind. With a confidence born from nobility and status, he clasped the orb and channeled a single weave of energy and willpower into it.

Four seconds passed before the orb exploded with a golden hue so bright it bathed nearly a dozen rows in light. It was like a mini sun in Cyrus's hands, and cheers rose from every angle of the arena.

The first perfect foundation.

Lilith went up next, and unsurprisingly, she also had a golden hue, albeit with lesser intensity.

A few more people stepped up to measure the strength of their spirit, but ten minutes later, only three students were left in the queue: Yurin, Andrew, and Aodhán.

Inhaling deeply, Yurin stepped up confidently. He clasped the orb with both hands, and a few seconds later, the core exploded once again with a golden hue, bathing nearly ten rows in golden light.

That put him above Lilith but below Cyrus, who still held the first position.

Andrew stepped up to the orb next, his expression sage-like as he clasped the translucent orb. Aodhán wasn't sure what he expected, but the outcome definitely surpassed it.

Golden light exploded out of the orb, so bright that it bathed a total of eighteen rows in a light so golden and pure, it almost felt tangible. Awes rose from the audience, and even Aodhán's eyes widened in shock. He had known Andrew's spiritual cultivation was strong, but he couldn't have imagined it was this strong.

Despite himself, Aodhán's confidence was shaken, and when Professor Daemon gestured for him to come up to the stage, Aodhán hesitated for a moment before taking the first step. Inhaling deeply, he climbed up the stage, eyes fixed on the now translucent orb that would decide his fate for the next few months or years.

With prompting from Professor Daemon, Aodhán clasped the orb in his hands, cleared his mind of thought, and channeled a single strand of energized willpower into the orb. A faint sensation of a scan passed over him, lingering, searching, and measuring his spirit.

A second passed. And then another. And another. And another. And then—

The orb detonated.

Not shattered, not cracked—detonated, in a flash of white light so blinding and absolute that for a heartbeat, the world itself seemed to vanish. The entire arena was swallowed in pure white, an all-consuming brilliance that drowned color, form, and shadow alike.

Everyone, student or professor, instinctively turned away, shielding their eyes from the intensity, and in the awed silence that descended over the arena, somebody whispered, "More than perfect..."