The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

The Silverspire court blazed golden in the late morning sunlight. Filigreed windows opened to fragrant gardens, accompanied by the soft gurgle of a beautifully sculpted marble fountain murmuring like a distant harp.

Within the court, Queen Althéa Seraphine-Ragnar sat on a beautifully embroidered couch—not so much seated as perfectly settled—like a blade in its sheath, sharp even in rest.

Her gown was a sculpted fall of silver threads and rune-mapped silk, drifting only a few inches above the floor. Her hair, which was pinned in a crownless weave, was streaked with a line of silver that was less age than magical saturation.

She wasn't a beautiful woman according to Ragnarok's beauty standard. Still, she had an undeniable appeal, like a flame in the dark, drawing eyes with an intensity that demanded reverence rather than desire.

She might not possess the delicate charm of most queens, but one thing she wielded in abundance was undeniable power—able to stand against the strongest of champions and hold her own. She had never been a true warrior, but before her coronation, she had spent a few rebellious years in the Coliseum. It was in that uncouth place that she had met the king himself, though that remained a part of her life she preferred not to remember.

She was in the late Mythic class now, so close to the Calamity class that she could almost taste it. With her affinity for Matter Manipulation, she was no small opponent.

The air around her bent subtly, almost imperceptibly, as if it had learned not to interfere—a silent deference earned through years of absolute authority. But she wasn't the only one affecting the air in her surroundings with her presence.

Her ladies-in-waiting, all five of them, were powerful awakeneds in their own right, formidable warriors from powerful noble houses. They all had some renown, having accomplished enviable feats just to be considered for this prestigious position.

The ladies bore their strength like a second skin, radiating the kind of calm that came from knowing they could wipe out an entire city and still be home for supper if they so wished.

Each one was in the mythic class, although none stood above the pseudo threshold of the 150th tier. But beyond their power and status in society, these ladies were also the finest gossipers in all of Ragnarok.

And it was in this capacity—as collectors of whispers and weavers of court intrigue—that they now served their queen with the day's most pressing intelligence.

Fluttering her fan delicately, Lady Elyndra sighed. "Two weeks hence, the festival begins, and already, the ambassador of Calodan has sent word. He means to arrive a full four days early with eighty in his party, no less. Honestly, your majesty, they do love to make a scene."

Queen Althéa sipped lightly from her goblet, her voice velveted with amusement. "Let them make whatever scene they wish, Elyndra. They have nothing else to show for the year save loud parades and louder chieftains."

The ladies chuckled lightly, and Lady Alwina leaned forward, green wind essence twirling around her lazily. "And what of the Unorians who have surprisingly shown interest? Such cold people. If they bring arms as their offering this year, I swear, I would be hard-pressed not to smite them on the spot."

Hums of agreement echoed through the room, and Queen Althéa grimaced at the reminder of last year's insult. The Unorians thought of them as madmen for not discontinuing their war with Sunstone and were ever ready to mock them for it, going so far as to desecrate the sacred nature of the moon festival with their abominable machine weapons.

The fact that she privately agreed with their assessment was beside the point.

Tone sharpening, she muttered. "If the Unorian ambassador and his entourage decide to be foolish after all the commotion of last year, then they shall dine outside our gates. The moon festival honors the pact of illumination. Should they come bearing shadow, they alone shall remain in it."

The ladies smiled, assured, and in agreement with the queen's decision. The Unorians had insulted them once. They couldn't be allowed to do so a second time. Allies or not.

With that matter settled, Lady Akira Myserei raised another: "What about the High Lord of the Central Kingdom? I hear he and his entire family are coming for the festival and even plan to make an appearance in the tournament. Isn't that strange?"

"It is indeed." Lady Alwina replied, a frown marring her fine features. "But they aren't the only ones making a first-time appearance. Even the exalted Rune family in Unoros is making an appearance after turning down our invitation for years."

Queen Althéa snorted. "Isn't it obvious? They are coming to see how far we've developed with their own eyes. Despite the war, we are flourishing. The weak are being culled, and the strong are getting stronger. New affinities keep appearing, and in the last two years, at least three telepaths have been awakened within the kingdom and are now being specially trained here in the capital. They've heard all these rumors and want to confirm it for themselves."

"Typical." Lady Vanbrim chuckled and shook her head, a faint aura of blood leaking from her core. "They must be green with envy, especially the Calodans, considering how shabby their political state is at the moment. Rumor has it that their Head chieftain is planning to name his brother, Kalros, as his successor, just in case he passes away without one. Such a shame that he won't be ascending."

"A shame indeed." Queen Althéa nodded. "But I doubt Elysai al-Zahara would ever agree to that."

"Nor would her relatives." Lady Elyndra agreed. "They have done everything in their power to separate the chieftain from his brother, but it has been for naught. There will be conflict if the throne passes into his hands."

Lady Vanbrim nodded. "I daresay it might even devolve into a—"

Her words were cut short as the court doors swung open and a messenger rushed in, hair tousled and clothes askew from rapid flight. His bird-like wings vanished into motes of light as he rushed toward the queen and bowed. "Your Majesty, I have a missive from the Awakened Council. They have stamped it as urgent."

Queen Althéa raised an eyebrow and waved him forward with a snap of her fingers. With her husband in secluded meditation in preparation for his ascension, the prince had been the one handling the affairs of the kingdom. But if they were bypassing him to bring the matter before her, then it must be very serious indeed.

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Eyes narrowing with curiosity, she snatched the missive from the messenger and unraveled the stamp with a curl of essence. She snapped it open and began reading.

Your Majesty, it is with grave concern that the Awakened Court informs you that the cultist infestation has spread far beyond our initial assessments...

Her eyes widened slightly as she read, but even that little display of emotion was enough to put her ladies-in-waiting on high alert. They watched her curiously, waiting for her to share whatever news the messenger had brought.

But Queen Althéa did the opposite. She destroyed the missive the moment she finished reading it, simply erasing it from existence. Her gaze returned to the messenger, and her jaw twitched.

Oh, it was worse than she could have imagined. Cultists everywhere. Even in the palace.

They had infiltrated deep into society, hiding in plain sight, but even the few names the Awakened Council had been able to uncover were only the tip of an iceberg. How could she be certain none of her ladies-in-waiting were a part of this conspiracy?

But even more troubling was the mention of a possible transmigrant. One Aodhán Brystion from the 12th Sector, who had been responsible for their tremendous victory in the Steppin' Plains.

She had, of course, heard of him before, but it seemed he had been hiding a secret far greater than how he'd gained a familiar at the evolved tier.

Harvesting the boy would be a true waste of talent, but with the cultists at large, it was far more dangerous to let him fall into their hands. They had to at least put him in custody before the cultists got to him, lest they add one more powerful weapon to their arsenal, as if they weren't already a persistent threat.

Raising her shoulders, she turned her gaze to Lady Sansa Reese, her most trusted lady-in-waiting. If she could trust anyone, it would be her most loyal companion. "Lady Reese, I think it's high time the royal family met this Aodhán Brystion. Go to the 5th academy and bring him to me."

The other ladies exchanged questioning glances, but Lady Reese simply stood up to carry out the order. No questions asked. The glass tiles beneath her feet rippled as she slowly sank into them, her form rippling for a moment before disappearing completely.

As soon as she left, Queen Althéa turned her gaze back to the messenger and smiled. "Bring me my son. I need to speak with him."

The messenger bowed and raced out of the court, wings reappearing as he rushed toward the entrance. The door shut behind him a moment later, and Queen Althéa suddenly unleashed her aura, turning to smile brightly at her ladies-in-waiting, the very air around her seeming to bend under the weight of her power.

Gaze roaming the seated women, she said. "It's been some time since you took any oaths, hasn't it?

"What is this about, Your Majesty?" Lady Alwina asked, eyes wide in caution.

"Oh, nothing," Queen Althéa waved her hands dismissively. "You simply have to convince me that none of you are cultists by taking an oath." Her smile widened, her gaze settling on the most vocal of her ladies. "Why don't we start with you, Alwina?"

***

Zatya was looking through the press statement Kaelith had drafted when the alarm went off, so loud it was uncomfortable despite her tier and power. Unfortunately, that was the exact reason she had installed it.

Eyes widening, she jumped to her feet in an instant. "What the hell is going on?"

Kaelith stuttered, unable to give her an answer, but he didn't need to because the door to her office swung open an instant later, and Professor Aleran raced in.

"Principal," he began as he rushed to her side, a missive half open in his hands. He handed the missive to her but was already explaining the details. "Cultists. The Awakened Council successfully managed to break the oath of a high-ranking cultist, and he spilled a few names. The Helsarins are at the top of the list."

Zatya felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. "The time girl. Her parents—

"Yes, Principal." Aleran nodded. "I've mobilized the 4th-year students to find her immediately. If her parents are cultists, then she is one too. We have to capture her immediately."

But Zatya had stopped listening at the mention of cultists. If the Helsarin girl was a cultist, then she could only be here for one reason and one reason alone: Aodhán.

She snapped into action. Turning urgently to Kaelith, she shouted, "Find Aodhán immediately and bring him to me. I want him here this instant."

Kaelith vanished immediately, tearing through chaotic space in search of Aodhán, and Zatya calmed down slightly. She turned her attention back to Aleran and asked, "How bad is it? Is the Helsarin girl the only one?"

Aleran nodded. "In the list that was released, yes. But that doesn't mean she's the only one. If there is one—

"Then there are most likely others." Zatya finished the sentence and sat back down with a heavy sigh, a vein throbbing on her forehead. "We have to purge them out immediately. Should we force the students to take oaths?"

Professor Aleran shifted uncomfortably. "Uhm… I fear there are bigger problems at the moment, Principal. Much bigger problems."

Zatya paused, almost afraid to ask. "What else is there?"

"Visitors, principal. Dozens of them, all gathered just outside the aerial shield and requesting entrance into the academy. Members of the Council of Lords, agents of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd academies, a lady-in-waiting, the crimson judge herself, and several other important agents representing their organizations."

Zatya scowled. "How long have they been waiting?"

"A few minutes," Aleran responded quickly. "I wanted to ask your permission before letting anyone in, but the lady-in-waiting—"

"Will wait." Zatya snapped. It seemed her ruse had failed. She had hoped that wouldn't be the case, but with these individuals gathering around the academy like vultures, things had just taken a sharp turn for the worse.

Frustration roiled within her as the issues piled up.

Aodhán was no longer safe in the academy, nor anywhere in all of Lutia. Still, all hope wasn't lost. She could still salvage the situation.

With fear and frustration churning in her gut, she raised her chip to her lips and pinged Ascendant Candidate Lightus, tapping her feet impatiently with each second that passed. Now more than ever, she needed a Calamity by her side, backing her words. She would have to reveal the truth about Aodhán to him, but that was a more acceptable option than losing him completely.

However, after the first, second, and third pings without response, Zatya's composure finally snapped. She whirled toward Aleran, power rippling through the air. "Where the hell are Aodhán and Kaelith? It's been minutes."

"If you would just calm down, Principal." Aleran tried to placate her, but Zatya slammed her fist against the table.

"Why are Calamities so whimsical and unreliable? After all that talk of protecting Aodhán and him being under his protection all those months ago, even going as far as sending guards to protect his parents, and now, Lightus won't even pick up my call. What could he possibly be doing?!"

It probably had something to do with that damned prophecy, and if that were the case, Zatya hated the direction it was taking. If she didn't do something drastic soon, then Aodhán would be captured and harvested. Reduced to a resource like all the others.

She couldn't let that happen. Not after everything she had poured into him. He was hers. Aodhán had come so far, so fast—his Icon phrase, troubling though it was, still held promise. It could be refined. Redirected. She still had time to shape him into what he needed to become. There was still time—

"Principal Zatya?" Aleran spoke again, his voice cutting into her thoughts like a blade. "We have delayed long enough. The lady-in-waiting is an agent of the Royal Family itself. It's... deeply disrespectful to keep her waiting."

"Just give me a moment, Aleran," Zatya snapped, sharper than she meant to. "I need to think."

But she didn't get that moment. Because Kaelith arrived not a minute later, his face drained of all color.

"Where is Aodhán?" Zatya asked immediately, the sinking feeling in her stomach intensifying.

Kaelith stuttered. "He's…he's gone. I couldn't—"

"No." Zatya shook her head firmly, refusing to hear the nonsense Kaelith was spouting. "Have you searched his room? Check the—"

"I've checked everywhere, Principal. They are gone. Their energy signatures are still fresh in the training hall. They were there only minutes ago."

Zatya took a single step back, her grip firm against the polished wood.

"Who are this they you keep mentioning?" she asked, voice level—too level—even though she dreaded the answer.

Kaelith swallowed. "Aodhán. His brother. Cyrus Valerion."

A long silence.

"And Ayisha Helsarin. I fear they've been taken by cultists."