The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

CHAPTER 241: Treader of Dread [Greater Variant]—Aodhán Brystion.



Aodhán stood bloodied yet uninjured in the aftermath of the chaos he'd unleashed, blood and viscera scattered so overwhelmingly around him that the earth itself had turned crimson. The air was sharp with the metallic scent of blood, undercut by the pungent ozone as lightning ran amok across the plain—the last echoes of the power he and Varéc had unleashed upon the horde.

In several parts of what could now only be called a wasteland, shadows writhed, their forms like phantoms struggling to reform before collapsing futilely. Entrails spasmed and jerked uncontrollably before suddenly decaying to ash and dispersing in the wind.

Above him, the storm still churned, lightning and thunder booming as if it hungered for destruction even though the battle was over.

Varéc stood by his side, far less inky and violent now that he had unleashed the chaos from his body. However, just like the storm above, Varéc wasn't anywhere near satisfied with the destruction he had wrought. He stared out at the twitching shadows menacingly, a low growl escaping his throat as his slitted gaze flitted from side to side, ready to attack at a moment's notice.

His wariness wasn't unfounded. Even Aodhán kept his gaze narrowed, eyes scanning the blood-drenched battlefield with laser focus.

The Nightmaw Reavers were creatures of shadow and hunger, and several times during their battle, they had regenerated from the darkness, never seeming to die as long as shadows remained to aid their rebirth. Light runes hadn't worked, so Aodhán had been forced to channel nearly half his willpower pool and the quintessence of an entire seal into {Lightning Descent} in a desperate bid to eradicate them once and for all—burning everything to ash to ensure nothing remained to regenerate from.

It had been several seconds since his last attack, and when no Reavers regenerated, Aodhán finally sighed in relief, feeling the weight of victory settle within him like a heavy blanket.

His body shuddered from the intensity of the emotion, and he reached out to lean against Varéc for support.

Despite their victory, Aodhán felt utterly shaken. For the first time in ages, his life had been in true danger. There were no handlers to pull him out if things went wrong. No ejector to spirit him away from trouble when he pushed too far. There were no invisible guards available to provide a safety net if he fell. No Principal Zatya, nor the unseen strength of Ascendant Lightus to protect him if everything went to hell.

For the first time in a long while, he was utterly alone, exposed to the full consequences of his actions without any safety net, and it was terrifying.

But beyond the fear simmered a well of confusion. Now that the battle was over, Aodhán felt the emotion rise to the surface as he stared out at the destruction before him.

Back at the academy, he had struggled against tier 27 evolved simulacrums and hadn't even been able to handle those in the 28th tier at all. Yet here he was, still standing and relatively uninjured after killing hundreds of advanced-class creatures ranging from the 28th to 30th tier.

It should not have been possible. At the 23rd tier, defeating a single advanced-class creature should have been an uphill battle. Yet he had not only defeated hundreds of advanced-class creatures but had also fought up seven whole tiers. Seven.

This defied everything he'd been taught regarding the power gap between evolved and advanced-class awakeneds. However, it didn't take long for Aodhán to piece together a series of hypotheses, and his expression grew into a grimace of worry and doubt.

His first theory was that perhaps the creatures in Abyssos had been weakened to give him and the other evolved awakeneds a fighting chance. But that seemed counterintuitive to the cultist's plans, knowing just how badly the cultists wanted to push him to the brink. If anything, it made more sense that they would increase the strength and tier of the creatures here to make it completely impossible for him to defeat them.

That left him with the second hypothesis, and Aodhán's grimace deepened at the conclusions he was about to draw.

The second hypothesis was simple enough. The handlers of the tower had heightened the strength of the simulacrums far beyond normal to push the students harder. With Principal Zatya taking such an active interest in his case, was it so far-fetched to assume that she had increased the strength of his simulacrums to push him even further?

Aodhán barely had to think about it before concluding that it was something she could most definitely do.

But why had she hidden it from him? Why had she congratulated him time and again for fighting five tiers up when in reality he had been fighting seven? Why had she let him believe he was so much weaker than he was?

The answer was simple.

It was a tactic to control him—to hide his true strength and create a mental limitation in his mind. And so far, it had worked brilliantly. He had always fled when he encountered advanced-class creatures, never daring to take one on because he had thought—no, believed—himself incapable of defeating them.

Until now.

Aodhán had always wondered why Zatya considered him so different from others when he was constantly fighting to keep the top spot among his peers. Aside from his status as a transmigrant and now, the world tattoo, whose value he only recently realized, Aodhán had never considered himself that much of a fascination.

Apparently, he had thought wrong.

He had no concrete proof to back up his theory, but Aodhán highly doubted he was wrong. This was exactly the sort of thing Principal Zatya could do, and most likely, she would never feel guilty about it.

Rage and a sense of betrayal erupted within him, and Aodhán closed his eyes against the tide of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But there was no escape.

Disappointment burned within him like a pyre, but it wasn't directed at Zatya. It was directed at himself.

Exhaling heavily, he turned his gaze to Varéc and gave a rueful smile. "Why am I so stupid, Varéc?"

Varéc growled sadly, and Aodhán raised his eyes to the sky to keep his tears from falling. "Time and time again, she has declared her intentions to me. She has never hidden them. Never lied about them, regardless of how terrible they were. And yet I trusted her. I am a fool."

Despite his best efforts, the tears fell, splashing against Varéc's scales. Aodhán allowed himself the tears for a moment longer before wiping them away, trying to summon hatred for her from deep within.

But he found himself completely incapable of it.

Despite everything Zatya had done to him, he couldn't hate her. However, he would be a true fool to trust her intentions after this.

Sighing, he caressed Varéc's neck and murmured, "If I can't trust anyone else, at least I can trust you and Daruk. You'll never leave me."

Varéc growled in annoyance at being lumped together with Daruk, and Aodhán chuckled despite himself. "You really need to learn to love Daruk. We are going to be together a long, long time."

Varéc huffed, and Aodhán pulled him closer for a hug. "Thank you, Varéc. I couldn't have done this without you."

Varéc growled affectionately and nudged Aodhán gently before gesturing toward the plain of shimmering cores with his snout. Aodhán glanced at the hundreds of shadow affinity cores, gleaming darkly despite the blood and viscera coating them, and sighed.

He couldn't absorb the cores since shadow wasn't a true element, but there was no sense leaving them here to waste. Disentangling himself from Varéc, he began picking up any intact cores he could find.

The cultists hadn't provided them with any spatial items, so Aodhán wove a bag of storm essence to carry the cores. His lightning pendant was still hidden within his... nether regions, but with Varéc now accessible, concealing it would be far easier than keeping it where it currently resided.

He just needed a moment away from the cultists' prying eyes to slip the necklace into Varéc, just like he had done a few months ago.

Storing an item within Varéc was something Aodhán had stumbled upon, literally. But it had proved remarkably effective. With the necklace bonded to him, keeping it within Varéc was like keeping it within his soul space. The only downside was that whatever he stored would be completely drenched and infused with storm chaos by the time he withdrew it. However, since the lightning pendant was crafted from storm essence, it wasn't too affected.

When Aodhán finished picking up the cores, the few of them that were intact, he hooked the bag to Varéc's back and secured it with a rope construct. Varéc huffed as the bag settled, shifting to accommodate its weight while Aodhán turned his gaze to the horizon, core sense expanding to search the area for any nearby cores, but even at full range, Aodhán couldn't sense anything or anyone. He was completely alone.

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Grateful for the moment of rest, Aodhán finally sat down to check the notifications blinking in the corner of his vision. The notifications zoomed in to fill his vision, and Aodhán raised an eyebrow as several lines of text scrolled across his vision.

Congratulations! You have gained a new title: Treader of Dread—Greater Variant. [See full details below.]

Congratulations! Your familiar has gained a new title: Chaos Clad Butcher. [See full details below.]

Congratulations! Your familiar has gained a new perk: Stealth.

Treader of Dread—Greater variant: This is a title given to any evolved-class awakened who willfully pits themselves against an advanced-class creature no less than five tiers above them and then survives to tell the tale.

Effects:

Ø Defier's Grit: Increases resistance to aura suppression from enemies no more than 50 tiers above you.

Ø Battle-Honed Core: Grants an increase to Willpower regeneration, energy manipulation, and recovery during life-threatening circumstances.

Ø Dread Tempering: Unlocks an alternate path to bloodline evolution and refining. Bloodline can now be refined through accumulated near-death encounters with creatures five or more tiers above you, rather than consuming vast amounts of willpower. May trigger unique bloodline paths not found through conventional willpower evolution paths.

Unique---->Unique + (19/32DT)

Chaos Clad Butcher (Shared Title): This is a title given to a familiar and its bearer after a point of large-scale, chaos-infused destruction.

Grant's skill: Synchronized Carnage: When you and your familiar attack the same target simultaneously, your skills gain a coating of chaotic energy that deals greater damage to your enemies.

New Perk: Stealth: With this new perk, you and your familiar no longer have to hide. Instead, light and shadow bend around you to obscure your presence from the world. The eyes of observers slide past without recognition, and enemies completely forget to look at you even when you're right in front of them.

Aodhán stared at the slew of titles and skills in surprise, eyes slightly widened as he read through them from top to bottom.

The treader of dread title was to be expected, considering the number of creatures he had just killed—nineteen of whom had been more than five tiers above him, if the dread tempering counter was to be believed. But what really intrigued Aodhán was the title Varéc had gained and the skill it offered.

The title wasn't too surprising considering the state Varéc had been in before the battle, but this was the first time Aodhán had gained a skill from Varéc. The fact that the skill couldn't be used without Varéc only made it more intriguing, driving home the fact that they had to be fighting in perfect synchronization to use it.

The skill itself wasn't anything special, but Aodhán would take anything that granted him extra firepower, especially now. Smiling faintly, he turned his attention to the new perk and raised a surprised eyebrow as he read it.

Stealth wasn't the perk he had been hoping for, but the more he read, the more perfect it seemed for their current situation. Core sense was great for helping him detect other people and creatures, but the ability to hide in plain sight was far more useful than the size-altering perk he had been hoping for.

Excitement bubbled within him, and he immediately turned to Varéc. "C'mon, buddy, we've got to test this out."

Varéc growled, sharing his enthusiasm as he spread his wings and stretched to full height before activating the stealth perk. The perk activated without any fanfare, and Aodhán's smile widened as Varéc instantly disappeared from view.

He could still sense him, though, like a cloud of storm essence, but for people without core sense, Aodhán suspected it would appear as if Varéc had ceased to exist.

Chuckling to himself, Aodhán instructed Varéc to cancel out the perk and then activated the perk himself, causing Varéc to arch his neck backward in surprise, head darting about as he searched for him.

"I'm right here," Aodhán called out, laughing as he cancelled out the perk. He and Varéc tested the perk a few more times, and with each bout of laughter, Aodhán felt his emotions begin to settle.

This stealth perk, despite its simple name, was essentially the invisibility affinity condensed into a single ability. It was impossibly strong, and a few weeks ago, Aodhán would have wondered how he'd managed to gain something so absurdly powerful. But now that he knew the true strength of his spirit, he was certain of the real reason.

The system, it seemed, was willing to grant powerful abilities, but a person's spiritual cultivation was the true limiter of power. It didn't merely restrict the number of seals and skills a person could gain or create—it fundamentally constrained the potency of those abilities.

If imagination truly was the only limiter of skill creation, then why was it impossible to develop certain powerful abilities within a given class? Andrew's repeated failure to create a skill that would produce awakened plants was a perfect example.

Aodhán hadn't understood it then, but he did now. A person's class did impose certain restrictions on possible skills, but that was only the surface layer. The true constraint—the one determining whether someone could access abilities that bordered on the miraculous—was the strength of their spirit itself.

Most awakeneds were limited by spirits too weak to channel the system's full potential. But he was different. As a transmigrant, his spirit was fundamentally stronger. And apparently, the system was more than happy to reward that strength with skills and abilities that should have been impossible for someone at his level.

It was what made it possible for him to gain a familiar at the evolved class, even though he hadn't known it then. It was what had also allowed him to acquire several powerful skills, including {Eye of the Storm}—a skill so powerful, it boosted his perception far above the evolved into the advanced class, granting him the ability to create the miracle rain.

It was what made him stand out, and now that he knew, Aodhán couldn't help but wonder how far he could push his skill creation. Could he create skills that completely turned the laws of physics and reality on their heads? Could he create skills that rivaled those of champions?

Before he could delve deeply into the thought, though, an explosion of willpower rocked his senses, so large and powerful that even from the distance, Aodhán felt his hair rise on the nape of his neck. It was far out of core sense range, yet it shone like a beacon at night to his senses, so pure and cold that Aodhán instinctively knew who it was.

No one could unleash that much willpower all at once among the captives, not even those at the 50th tier. Not that they couldn't possess it, but to unleash so much at once, no one in their right mind would do that with the willpower they had so painstakingly gathered.

Only one person could, and even without active thought, Aodhán's feet were already moving. He vaulted himself atop Varéc, and, without delay, Varéc took to the skies, roaring as he headed in the direction of the flare.

The explosion of willpower had vanished almost as soon as it had appeared, but the effect it had on reality remained like a scar on the cosmos, a constellation of frigid energy so dense the air rippled and twisted like a mirage in the distance.

Aodhán's heart pounded with worry as Varéc zipped forward, tearing through the air like a bullet. Knowing Daruk, unleashing so much willpower couldn't have been his first choice, which meant he was either in severe danger or had been pushed to the absolute limit.

Aodhán suspected it was the latter, even though both options were one and the same, and his heart beat louder with each second that passed.

They were only halfway across the distance when a creature suddenly entered the range of his core sense, its tier 28 core blazing brightly with wind essence. The creature dove down from above, moving with far more speed than Varéc was capable of, and an instant later, it appeared above them, its sharp beak opened in a shriek as it beat its large wings to create wind blades.

Varéc dodged the first set of wind blades, but Aodhán knew he couldn't dodge the next set without taking injury. So, he pulled a thread of quintessence from his second seal, weaved it together with several strands of willpower, and then raised a hand to the hulking beast.

A condensed beam of red lightning shot out of his open palms, too fast for the bird to dodge. It stabbed into the bird's stomach and exploded, spraying blood and viscera as a hole the size of a football formed in its mid-region.

The bird shrieked as pain and panic surged through it, but another well-aimed beam of red lightning took it out for good. The creature fell from the sky, and without hesitation, Varéc swerved upward, tearing the bird apart to unveil its core.

Aodhán grabbed the core with a grateful pat on Varéc's neck and absorbed it immediately, pushing himself closer towards the 24th tier.

[Tier 23—66.4%]

He grimaced when he saw just how far he still had to go before reaching the advanced class. He needed to fix that as soon as possible. At the rate at which he was burning through his willpower and seal quintessence, it was only a matter of time before he either bottomed out or drained his seal completely. What would then happen if he were faced with another horde?

Dusting the core dust off his hands, he focused his attention back on the rippling area where Daruk was and muttered a silent prayer for his safety.

But Abyssos was unfortunately not done with him.

Roughly a mile away from Daruk's location, a swarm of insectoid creatures entered into the range of core sense. There were thousands of them, the least of which was at the 30th tier, and as they swarmed closer to their location, Aodhán just knew facing this swarm right now would result in his immediate and exceedingly painful death.

Swallowing nervously, he whispered to Varéc. "This would be the right time to use our new perk, don't you think?"

Varéc gave a low growl in response and instantly vanished from view, becoming like transparent glass that revealed the forest of blue and black trees below. Aodhán activated the perk next, his gaze fixed in the direction of the incoming swarm, hoping they didn't have a sort of core sense or, worse, eyes that pierced through light and darkness.

Fortunately, they didn't, and the swarm simply passed over them without sparing them a glance.

Aodhán exhaled deeply in relief and caressed Varéc. "This might be the best perk we've ever gotten, buddy."

Varéc growled, amusement evident in his tone. However, that amusement soon faded to shock as they sailed past the forest and into a clearing nearly completely covered in ice and frozen blood. Jagged ice pillars jutted high into the sky, and what seemed to be a half-melted flower of ice occupied near half of the battlefield, the bodies of hundreds of dinosaur-looking creatures hanging from its jagged petals in a grotesque display that caused Aodhán's gut to turn with nausea.

The creatures who had escaped the flower stood frozen like statues, some mid-lunge and others entirely off the ground, held upright by jagged formations of ice. Blood coated several surfaces, and some of the frozen statues had their entrails hanging out. Others had been stacked upon each other, run through by a curved pillar of ice, which had turned crimson from all the blood it had been painted with.

The temperature within the clearing was abysmal, so cold that even several feet in the air, Aodhán could feel frost begin to coat his clothes, a deep chill spreading into his bones.

Shuddering from the intensity of the cold, Aodhán turned his gaze to the origin of the chill, and his breath hitched at the sight of Daruk, whose entire being seemed to have been transformed completely.

His snow-white hair fell around him in waves, and the ice-like scales on his arms had spread to cover half his chest. Space bent all around him, so fragile that Aodhán was certain he could tear it with a claw. But it wasn't until their gazes locked that the scale of Daruk's true power was driven home.

Aodhán tensed in his saddle above Varéc, eyes opened wide in shock as he whispered, "By Ascendants, his willpower has hit gold."


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