The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Ayisha sat glued to her seat, eyes wide in shock, even after Principal Zatya and Aodhán had vanished from the stage. Her mind reeled from the words she had just heard, and though she searched for ways to disprove them, Principal Zatya's announcement made a painful amount of sense.

All around her, students celebrated or exclaimed in shock, cheering and squealing as sounds of celebration rose into the air. Only a few rows away, Scarlett and Ankaz screamed themselves hoarse, all grins as they celebrated the joyful announcement. Having a double inheritor within their ranks was a big deal, but Ayisha couldn't shake off the shock.

And it seemed, Yurin and Andrew the same boat as her.

Their eyes were just as wide as hers, their mouths hanging open as they looked to Daruk for answers. But Daruk pointedly refused to look in their direction, his eyes locked on the stage for a moment before he promptly stood to leave, as if a bombshell hadn't just been dropped in their laps.

"Wait!" Ayisha called out, her hands reaching out to clasp Daruk's uniform. "How is this possible? How could you have hidden something so huge without telling any of us? I thought we were friends."

Daruk winced slightly, but his tone and expression remained as neutral as ever when he turned to face them. "I'm sorry," he replied quietly, "but I think this is a conversation best had with Aodhán around."

"Bullshit!" Andrew cursed, his vivid green hair bright against his reddened face. "I can't believe this. How can I ever trust you guys again? This means you lied about the whole inheritor thing. Aodhán lied to us, and you, Daruk—you played along. You scolded him in front of us. All along, you were just lying. Playing us. Manipulating us."

"That is not true—" Daruk began.

"It sure as hell seems so," Yurin cut in, his expression less angry than Andrew's but no less hurt. "Look, I get that some things are secrets, even among friends. But the lies were unnecessary. First, you made us believe we were all in the same category. Then you made us believe Aodhán was just an inheritor—strong, but attainable. You made us believe we stood a chance of standing side by side with him, but all along, he was a freaking double inheritor. I can't even begin to process it."

Daruk sighed, but said nothing to defend himself or Aodhán. He simply looked them all in the eye, and then turned away, walking toward Kaelith with his fist clenched, his mind working through a scenario far more complex than Ayisha could see.

Andrew stalked away after that, leaving her to stand alone with Yurin for company, but Ayisha's mind was too preoccupied for words.

Due to her father's identity, she knew far more about Lutia's history than most people her age. She knew of a time when double inheritors had been far more common, before the War of the Watch and Atitlan's subsequent incursion.

She knew of the powers they had displayed—possessing pools of willpower so dense and vast they could defeat awakeneds dozens of tiers above them with ease. How they threw out RULES and skills like candy in a battle right from the early stages of the advanced class. How they could potentially activate their icons twice, even thrice in a battle, rather than the single activation everyone else managed.

She knew so much about them, and it was exactly because of all she knew that she felt so shaken. She couldn't bring herself to accept that the person she had so jokingly played with was a being bearing not just the path of one ascendant, but two. It was mind-boggling. But more importantly, it was an unforeseen variable that threw a wrench into the plans her family and their masters had concocted, making a convoluted mess of everything.

Her presence at this academy was crucial, but with Aodhán turning out to be a double inheritor, her entire mission here had been thrown into disarray.

She had never suspected, and though she had always wondered who Aodhán's patron was, she had never thought to ask. She'd had her suspicions, of course, especially after Lupin's casual comment about how she and Aodhán had met, but now that suspicion was thrown out the window entirely.

Az'marthon wasn't an inheritor despite all his power. He had been a genius of incalculable proportions, but he hadn't been an inheritor. Which meant whoever Aodhán's patron was had to be someone else who had ascended within the last millennium—another storm awakened who had inherited the legacy of another, most likely someone who had ascended before Raol's time.

That opened up a list of dozens. Despite the rarity of the storm affinity, a millennium was a long time, and several inheritors had ascended since then. The chances that they had chosen to plant their legacy in Ragnarok instead of their birth kingdom were low, but not impossible. In fact, it was entirely possible that an ascended from Atitlan or Gordon was the one who had planted the legacy in Ragnarok for Aodhán to find. Aodhán's patron could be anyone from a list of thousands, and that complexity brought with it complications she couldn't handle alone.

She had to tell someone. She had to tell her father.

Mind racing, she forced herself to sit and composed a message to her father. Raising her communication chip to her lips, she began narrating everything she had seen and heard that day. With a double inheritor in the 5th academy, the aim of her mission had most likely just shifted, becoming infinitely more important and dangerous.

Her watch here was nearing its end.

***

Three rows behind Ayisha, Grendar Bladewynn also raised her chip to her lips.

With excitement coursing through her veins, she messaged her father, who was a high councilman in the Awakened Court, explaining everything that had just happened and even attaching a recorded memory to the message.

For months now, her father had stressed the importance of leashing the commoner to the Awakened Court. News like this had to reach the judges quickly before any other powerful organization stepped in—or worse, the royals. If the royals decided to shelter the commoner, then all was well and truly lost.

It was high time Aodhán Brystion learned his station, and she couldn't have been more honored to play a part in it.

***

High Councilman Arishan Bladewynn was meditating in his chamber when his daughter's message arrived alongside the recorded memory. He stirred subtly, causing the metallic spiderweb around him to tremble, tiny vibrations running through the strands to produce a series of crystalline sounds like crackling glass.

The sound echoed in his mind, reinforcing the inspiration that had led to his recent advancement, and Arishan absorbed it like a sponge. Power flowed through his veins like lava, melding seamlessly with all his metallic augmentations and implants, reinvigorating him like a shot of adrenaline directly into his metallic heart.

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Humming in satisfaction, Arishan finally opened his eyes to scan his status screen, a faint smile curling his lips as he read through the host of skills he had accumulated. He spent at least ten minutes admiring his status screen before finally turning his attention to his daughter's message.

He watched the recorded memory first, grimacing as the commoner climbed onto the stage to clasp the spirit-sensing orb. The boy was a valuable asset, too useful to be allowed to roam free without serious monitoring. He needed to be leashed to an organization as powerful as the Awakened Court, and quickly, lest he suddenly turn and do something terrible like join the cultists in their maddened watch.

However, despite their best efforts to leash the commoner, he was like a slippery snake, twisting out of every trap they set so easily that one of the other high councilors had questioned whether he possessed foresight.

Arishan knew the Judges had something planned, so he had decided to wait until they acted before enacting his own plan. He expected this to be another rant from his daughter about the pompous commoner. However, his expectations came to a grinding halt the moment the commoner clasped the orb.

Bright white light exploded from the orb, so absolute and cold it forced him to squint even through the memory. Arishan's mind raced, his eyes widening in awe. This Aodhán Brystion was shaping up to be something dangerous. He had to bring this information to the judges immediately.

Jumping to his feet, he raced out of his cultivation chamber, the metal beneath his feet rippling like liquid to aid his movement. The moment he exited his chambers, he barked orders to his personal guards and rushed toward the teleportation room, servants scurrying around him to fulfill his requests.

The teleportation circle activated with a hum the moment he entered the room, and without hesitation, he stepped through it, muttering angrily to himself about the lack of competent servants.

He arrived atop the teleportation spire of the Awakened Court an instant later, flashing his ID to the guards on duty before marching toward the lift. The guards parted before him like water, bowing and saluting as he passed, but Arishan barely acknowledged their greetings, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of inheritors and double inheritors.

How could it be possible? Was it even true, or was Zatya Malakov spinning her web of lies once again?

When he reached the court itself, he pointed at a familiar guard and ordered, "You—take me to the Seeker immediately. I have a matter of utmost urgency to relay to him."

The guard complied immediately, and less than a minute later, Arishan stood before a beautifully engraved wooden door shimmering with black runes. The word SEEKER was engraved on the door in black chalk, and after dismissing the guard with a wave, Arishan knocked.

The Seeker opened his door after the second knock, his wiry old face peeking out with an expression of disapproval, translucent robes swishing like waves of silver light. "High Councilor Bladewynn, what is the meaning of this?"

"I have something to show you, Seeker," Arishan replied, sending the recorded memory to him. "I just received this from my daughter, live from the 5th academy selection trials."

The Seeker frowned as he watched the memory, and Arishan continued. "Of course, it's about our most prominent headache, who apparently isn't just any inheritor, but a—"

"White light!" the Seeker blurted out, eyes wide as his gaze took in the eruption of light. He stumbled in shock, and Arishan instinctively reached out to steady him, nodding in understanding.

"That was my reaction exactly," Arishan replied as he replayed the memory. "A double inheritor hiding in plain sight. All the miraculous feats he's been—Hey! Where are you going?"

But the Seeker was already gone, racing down the hallways of the court like a blur. Arishan tried to follow, but he managed only a few steps before a black-cloaked guard suddenly halted him. The guard bowed respectfully and said, "Apologies, High Councilor, but this is as far as you can go. Anything past this point is out of bounds for anyone other than the Judges and the Seeker."

Arishan scowled and watched the Seeker disappear around a corner, wishing he had been granted a private meeting with the judges. There were many ideas he wanted to share with them.

The Seeker, meanwhile, raced toward the judges' private chamber, his mind churning as the video he had just watched sparked memories within him. He barged into the chamber and shouted, "We have a problem!"

The private chamber was a circular meeting room designed specifically for the judges' relaxation after long hours of judging and sentencing people to death. Here, they usually rid themselves of their masks and flowing robes, so the Seeker's rude entry was thoroughly frowned upon. But those frowns transformed immediately when he spoke: "I just received news from High Councilor Bladewynn concerning Az'marthon's Legacy. I fear we got everything wrong."

"What is the news?" the Crimson Judge snapped, her expression a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

Rather than respond, the Seeker sent the recorded memory to each judge and said, "Apparently, Zatya Malakov just announced that Aodhán Brystion is a double inheritor, completely invalidating our belief that he carries Az'marthon's legacy."

"That's impossible," the Blue Judge hissed, his eyebrows rising toward his hairline. "The boy bears the mind fragment of Az'marthon Ranok. You said so yourself. Az'marthon was no inheritor."

"If he were, we would know," the Black Judge concurred, a deep frown marring his forehead. "Is it possible that—"

"It is not," the Purple Judge cut him off, her small stature more commanding in the confined room. "For all his power, Az'marthon was just as constrained by his willpower as everyone else."

"Then how is this possible?" the Green Judge asked, the fabric of her robes swishing with rising agitation. "If Az'marthon wasn't an inheritor, then how can the boy be a double inheritor? Can we truly rule out the possibility that Az'marthon was hiding his status? His power was tremendous—"

"For the last time, yes," the Purple Judge cut her off with a glare. "There is proof that Az'marthon wasn't an inheritor. Tests were conducted before his promotion to general. I am certain of his status."

"Then the only other explanation is that the Seeker made a mistake," the Crimson Judge said, turning her gaze to him. "How certain are you that you saw the mind fragment?"

"I would bet my life on it," the Seeker replied eagerly, angry that his integrity was being questioned. "I saw it when I delved into his mind. I recognized it from a vision and knew its signature. I am completely certain."

"If that is the case," the Brown Judge spoke for the first time, "then we can only assume that Zatya Malakov is lying. And if she is, it means she's covering up what we're all thinking—that we truly succeeded, and Az'marthon did not, in fact, leave his legacy on ÆFLYM."

Silence descended on the chamber at that, and the judges exchanged shocked glances. They all knew what that meant, and after a moment, the Purple Judge turned to the Seeker and said, "Pull up any recent pictures of him, specifically his back. If he is what our Brown colleague suspects, he will have the tattoo to prove it."

Expectant, all the judges turned their gaze to the Seeker, who immediately pulled out a stack of newspapers from his spatial space and placed them on the nearest table. The stack stood nearly four feet tall, containing papers dating back several months, and after a short moment of searching, he found a suitable image and raised a projection of it for the judges to see.

The image had been taken only a few weeks ago, featuring Aodhán with his back turned in what appeared to be the remains of a cultist outpost. He was still clothed, but his garments were tattered enough that his entire back was visible.

The Seeker expanded the image, and all the judges focused on it, eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but there was nothing to be found.

Aodhán's entire back and neck were covered with the tattoo of his familiar, making it impossible to determine whether another tattoo lay beneath it. There was no reference point—after all, no transmigrant had lasted long enough to gain a familiar before being harvested.

They observed the image for a moment before the Purple Judge spoke. "Whatever the case with this child, we must find out. We can no longer wait until he enters the Black Forest. We need to know now."

"Then we need to send a letter—" the Brown Judge began, but the Crimson Judge cut him off with a snort.

"Zatya Malakov will ignore any letter we send her, just as she has done with the hundreds we've sent before. I believe it's high time one of us makes an appearance and reminds her why we were chosen as judges. Former champion or not, she can no longer be allowed to do as she pleases under our watch." She scanned the other judges and grimaced. "I volunteer myself. When I return, we shall discuss which one of us gets to harvest the boy—if he's a transmigrant."

The judges exchanged glances, and a moment later, the Purple Judge nodded. "Then go, Crimson. Bring the boy back with you, transmigrant or not. It's high time we leashed him to us. He has lived free for far too long."