The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

"To wield the storm is to embrace controlled chaos—to become the eye within the tempest. But to wield entropy is to surrender to the inevitable, to become the hand that guides all things toward their natural end. The storm fights against the dying of light, but entropy knows that oblivion is not the enemy but the canvas upon which new light may be painted."

Excerpt from "The Fundamental Forces" by Principal Kellan Thorne.

The 1st academy.

Year 2264.

Monica stumbled out of a cave swarming with parasitic worms—each one nearly as wide as she was tall—screaming at the top of her lungs as she fired explosions behind her with wild abandon.

"Stop fucking screaming!" Baxter shouted as he cut a worm in half with a cosmic blade.

"I'm terrified of worms!" Monica shrieked back, her voice pitched higher as another worm erupted from the ground behind her, leaking green slime and spittle. She spun around, her hand glowing with dark energy as she pressed it against the creature's flesh. The worm's skin began to blacken and peel away in sheets, revealing rotting muscle beneath that crumbled to dust within seconds.

"Ugh, I fucking hate this place." She screamed again, shivering in disgust as the creature's remains crumbled around her. Another worm lunged from the cave mouth, but Monica raised both hands, unleashing a wave of decay that rippled outward. The creature's movements grew sluggish as its nervous system began to fail, segments of its body aging decades in moments until it collapsed into a pile of desiccated tissue.

"We have to get out of here, Baxter. I don't care what we have to do or who we must kill. I cannot spend one more day in this hellhole."

"You seem to be forgetting that we're not here of our own will, Monica." Baxter scowled as he decimated the last worm, wiping blood from his blade. "Look, I don't like this place any more than you do, but unless someone offers us a way out, I don't see us breaking free anytime soon."

"Ugh, kill me now." Monica collapsed to the ground in dismay, the very stone beneath her hands beginning to crack and crumble from her latent aura. She looked up at the obsidian sky as if she were ready to be smitten by the same tribulation she'd witnessed earlier.

The faces of the two boys they'd met earlier flashed across her mind, and she turned to Baxter with a contemplative look. "Do you think—"

An alarm blared, cutting off her words. An instant later, a crimson screen appeared before her, displaying a bounty for Aodhán Brystion—one of the boys they'd exchanged cores with. Beside the screen, an arrow pointed toward the distant hills.

"What?!" Baxter exclaimed as he read the bounty. "What have those boys done to deserve this? They just survived a tribulation!"

Monica barely heard his words, her mind racing with possibilities. She had just been praying for a way out, and the cultists had handed her one on a silver platter. It had to be fate.

She looked up at Baxter and smiled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Baxter looked up with a frown. "What are you—" His words cut off when he saw her expression, and he shook his head firmly. "No, Monica. Absolutely not. Those boys haven't done anything to hurt us."

Monica stared at him in disappointment for a moment before pushing herself to her feet. "Whether I kill him or not, he's going to die anyway. Someone else will take the bounty—I'd rather it be me."

Baxter jumped to his feet in anger. "He's a fucking child, Monica."

But Monica was already moving, a cloud of entropy billowing behind her as she raced after the crimson arrow.

"Monica, wait!" Baxter called out, but she ignored him. The promise of escape, of an end to this nightmare, drove her forward like a woman possessed.

She sprinted across the rocky ground, her feet pounding against the cracked earth and fracturing it further. The distant hills loomed before her, jagged peaks that seemed to mock her desperation. Behind her, she could hear Baxter's heavy footsteps as he followed. Of course he did.

Sprinting faster, she crested the first hill and spotted her target. The arrow on her screen pulsed brighter, pointing directly at a cave entrance partially hidden by fallen rocks and ice. That had to be it—where those boys were hiding.

Monica didn't hesitate. Power surged from her core into her pathways, and dark energy erupted from her hands in a concentrated beam of pure entropy. The beam struck the cave entrance with a sound like reality tearing, and the rock aged hundreds of years in an instant, crumbling to dust as the molecular bonds holding it together simply gave up.

Cracks spider-webbed across the entire rock face, spreading like a disease through the hillside. The very air around the impact point shimmered with decay, and for a moment, Monica felt the savage satisfaction of power unleashed.

A grim smile spread across her face. Without hesitation, she launched herself into the cave, ready to seize her freedom by any means necessary.

***

Aodhán staggered as the explosion hit, his eyes widening as he identified Monica's core. There was no time to plan or strategize. They were too weak to face her—even together, their chances of winning were slim at best.

So, they did the next best thing: they hid.

Aodhán activated his stealth perk immediately, vanishing from view as light and shadow bent around him to cloak his presence from the world. Daruk, on the other hand, unleashed a cascade of jagged ice and phased into one of the shards, teleporting through the cave entrance to a patch of ice he'd strategically left outside—for exactly this kind of situation.

However, the moment he materialized at the entrance, he came face to face with the cosmic awakened and froze. The man stood barely ten feet away, his blade dripping with blood, dark stains spattered across his clothes and face.

Daruk clenched his fist, his heart hammering against his ribs as he prepared for the inevitable attack. Energy and willpower surged within him, coalescing with the quintessence of an entire seal as he prepared to activate his freeze skill.

But then something unexpected happened.

The cosmic awakened's expression shifted, the hardness melting away to reveal something almost... sympathetic. He glanced back toward the cave where Monica's voice could be heard echoing from within, then looked at Daruk again.

Without a word, he jerked his head toward the distant hill and made a sharp gesture with his free hand.

Run.

Daruk didn't need to be told twice. He phased through another patch of ice and appeared at the base of the hill, sprinting toward the next ridge with everything he had.

Behind him, Monica's voice screamed from within the cave: "There's no one here, Baxter! Where are those boys?"

Baxter's response was lost to the wind as a fist slammed into Daruk from behind. He stumbled, spine arching as he cartwheeled through the air. He hit the rocky ground hard, ribs slamming against stone as he skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust and debris.

Pain lanced through his lower back like a knife stab, and Daruk gasped, his ribs screaming in protest. But he forced himself to his feet and opened his eyes, only to find himself surrounded by a group of Calodan women.

There were three of them, two of whom he didn't recognize. But the third person was a woman he recognized intimately: his cellmate.

"What… what are you doing?" he asked, ice gathering around his fist violently. "We shared a cell. You advised me. We should be acquaintances at least."

"I'm very sorry, Daruk," the woman whispered, sand gathering around her fists. "But I'm a scorpion, and I know just when to strike."

***

Back in the cave, Aodhán stood with his back flush against the wall, the lizard in his fist choking for air as his grip unconsciously tightened. But he barely noticed, transfixed by the effect Monica's latent aura had on her surroundings.

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Everywhere she stepped, the stone aged and cracked, crumbling to dust whenever she lingered too long in one spot.

She was destruction incarnate, and Aodhán was more than grateful he'd had the good sense to hide rather than face her head-on.

Not daring to breathe, he stood completely still, watching from his corner as Monica paced angrily, her frustration evident as she searched the cave and came up empty.

"Show yourself, Aodhán Brystion!" she shouted, eyes darting about for any sign of movement. "I know you're here. The arrow's still pointing right at this spot."

Aodhán tensed, realizing it didn't matter that he was hidden. The cultists weren't playing games this time—if he stayed here much longer, it was only a matter of time before Monica found him, or someone else did.

Still, he waited, watching as the cosmic awakened walked in. The man's gaze swept the cave without spotting him, and Aodhán swallowed nervously, thanking the system for granting him this perk instead of what he'd originally wanted.

The man walked deeper into the cave, a bloody blade clenched in his fist as he approached Monica. She turned as he drew closer and gestured wildly. "He's here somewhere—he's hiding. Did you see his friend?"

"No, I haven't seen anyone, Monica," he replied quietly.

Aodhán frowned. That was a lie. There was no way the man hadn't seen Daruk.

"Come on," the man tried to lead Monica away. "We should go—"

"I'm not going anywhere until I find the boy." Monica scowled, glaring at the man as if he were stupid. "Can't you see the arrow? He's right here in this cave. I either find him or blow this cave to pieces."

"Monica—"

"Why aren't you listening to me, Baxter!" She cut him off, cracks spreading from beneath her feet as her aura surged. "The boy is here. He's our ticket out of this nightmare—"

"He's not our escape, Monica." Baxter snapped, his own aura flaring in annoyance as his expression grew sterner. "We don't work for the cultists. We were kidnapped from our homes, from our families. If we're going to gain freedom, it won't be by following their orders. We fight our way out, or we die. There's no honor in killing a child who's done us no harm."

Monica paused, seeming to consider his words for a moment. "I hear you, Baxter, and I know you're right, but all things must come to an end eventually. Child or immortal—if this boy's death will get me out of here, then I'll be damned if I don't take it."

Baxter's scowl deepened as he stepped forward, but Monica didn't back down.

"Don't you see what they are doing?" Baxter hissed, cupping his hands in front of her face to emphasize his point. "They are turning us against each other. This child isn't our enemy—if anything, he's an ally. Strong enough to threaten the cultists badly enough that they want him dead. They're playing us, but you refuse to see it."

"You don't have a daughter waiting outside this hellhole for you," Monica shot back, her body shuddering as pain, fear, and anger were fully unleashed. More cracks spread outward, fissures expanding beneath her as stone aged rapidly and began to decay. "You don't have a little girl who can't close her eyes unless you sing her to sleep. My daughter is waiting for me, Baxter, and if there's a way to reach her right now, I'll take it."

Baxter's expression softened, but his stance remained firm. "That boy has a family too. People who can't sleep because they're sick with worry. You're not the only one with loved ones on the outside."

"I don't care, Baxter. I don't care." She slammed her hand against the wall opposite Aodhán, and he nearly flinched as it crumbled to dust instantly. "I don't fucking care. Now you'll either help me or get out of my way."

Baxter's expression turned grim, and for a heartbeat, his gaze locked directly with Aodhán's—a clear warning flickering in his eyes.

Aodhán froze, caught completely off guard, and that was when he realized Baxter could sense him. A flaw in his stealth perk revealed itself in that moment, and his eyes widened in panic.

The perk bent light and shadow to conceal him from the world, but it said nothing about space itself. For a cosmic awakened capable of manipulating spatial dimensions, he might as well have been standing in broad daylight.

Baxter's gaze darted away instantly, as if he hadn't just uncovered his hiding spot, and Aodhán understood what had happened with Daruk. Baxter had let him escape, and now he was offering Aodhán the same chance.

Aodhán didn't hesitate any longer.

Activating {Lightning Body—Silver}, he phased through the cave wall, feeling as if he were moving through viscous liquid until he stumbled into open air several meters above ground. The now-dead lizard tumbled from his fingers as he fell, but a storm platform materialized beneath him before he hit the ground, and he shot forward immediately.

Then he heard another explosion as the cave was blown to pieces, Monica's voice cutting through the chaos: "He's moving! The arrow's moving!"

A beam of pure entropy shot toward him an instant later, and only a desperate swerve to the right saved him from being eviscerated on the spot. Eyes wide with panic, Aodhán channeled willpower into the platform, boosting his speed dramatically, but despite moving at insane speed, he couldn't outrun Monica, who sprinted across the rocky earth like a blur, covering ground at impossible speed.

Every time he looked back, she was there—racing across the terrain as if her life depended on it. Entropy billowed behind her in a dark cloud, and fissures spread like hungry vipers in her wake as the earth aged and cracked under the force of her power.

Aodhán's heart hammered against his ribs as he poured more willpower into the platform, trying to outrun the machine of destruction hunting him. But he soon realized Monica wasn't his only problem—a few seconds later, three different cores entered his range, racing toward him from different angles.

He'd barely processed that when two more joined, these ones zipping through the air on constructs of wind, following the arrow that tracked him relentlessly.

"How are they tracking me?" Aodhán cursed desperately, and then his gaze landed on the band on his wrist. Without hesitation, he tried to yank it off, but the seemingly rubber material refused to budge.

"Fuck!" he cursed again as another core entered his range. This one, however, wasn't content to sprint across the earth or zip through the air. It teleported, appearing directly in front of him with a smoking blade of space.

Aodhán reacted instinctively, dodging the blade by a hair's breadth. His eyes widened in terror, and without thinking, he switched lightning colors, feeling a surge of power as his entire body morphed into a humanoid form of violet lightning.

His aura erupted—a wave of crushing pressure that slammed the spatial awakened to the rocky earth below. Sand exploded into the air from the impact, but the attack was barely enough to keep the woman down, and she reappeared an instant later, bruised, bleeding, and even more furious than before.

She swung her blade once more, and once again, Aodhán dodged, unleashing a beam of red lightning from his palms.

The beam struck the woman with a thunderous boom, doing far more damage than he'd expected—and yet, not enough.

There was no way he could win this. He had to get away.

His gaze fixed on the farthest point he could see, and without hesitation, he teleported, arriving at a mountain range several miles away. But even here, there were enemies.

Two girls burst from a hidden bush, and Aodhán scowled as he recognized the Sunstonian siblings—both wounded, exhausted, and still in the evolved class.

"Blast him, Yuna!" the younger girl shouted, and the elder obeyed, unleashing an impressive burst of solar energy at him.

Aodhán didn't bother dodging. The blast struck him, causing his body to tingle uncomfortably, but that was all. He understood now how Helzarvauth and Eldrith had taken the full brunt of his attacks without flinching—if all he felt was mildly ticklish.

A smile appeared on his face, but it wasn't the friendly kind.

"Leave now, before I decide to eviscerate you where you stand," he said to their startled expression, and they instantly turned tail and fled.

With them gone, Aodhán found himself alone, but he knew it was only a matter of time before his pursuers found him again. He couldn't afford to stay in one place long, so he teleported again and again, core sense searching until he finally found Daruk's core signature.

He teleported once more and scowled when he found Daruk surrounded by three Calodan women, all between the 31st and 33rd tiers. All injured.

Daruk had blood trailing down his face, his robes stained with dirt and gore, but it was the three women Aodhán pitied. One was nearly completely frozen, the right side of her body blue with frostbite and encased in ice. Another had lost her arm entirely, blood dripping to the crystalline floor from her severed elbow.

The last woman was the most brutally injured—impaled clean through by three ice swords that curved as Aodhán watched, slicing her into pieces. The other two women reacted with blades of sand and glass, creating a rippling vortex of death and razor-sharp edges. But rather than cut Daruk apart, their attacks simply passed through his body as if he were made of liquid.

His clothes tore, but his flesh survived unscathed, holes reforming with new ice. It was a skill remarkably similar to his Lightning Body—both in nature and function. Aodhán recognized the effect of Liquid Ice immediately.

The two surviving women staggered back in shock, eyes wide as they watched the wounds in Daruk's body close seamlessly. Before they could react, a cascade of jagged ice erupted from Daruk, impaling both women and lifting them into the air, where they dangled from the spikes piercing their hearts.

It was brutal to witness, but Aodhán didn't blame Daruk one bit. These women had attacked him, and if he'd been in Daruk's position, he would likely have done the same.

Teleporting once more, he arrived beside Daruk, causing his brother to stagger back in panic, an ice spear already forming in his right hand.

Daruk scowled. "One of these days, I'm going to stab you before I realize it's you."

"Fortunately, that day isn't today. Come on, we have to move. We can't stay here."

Daruk nodded in agreement, but before they could take a single step, Aodhán felt multiple cores suddenly teleport into his sensing range—far more than the numbers he'd left behind. The spatial awakened materialized directly in front of him, her blade swinging toward his neck.

This time, Aodhán phased through the attack rather than dodge it and regretted it immediately.

The burning blade cut through his intangible neck with a frigid bite, and though he didn't lose his life, the agony was enough to scar him for life. He tried to teleport away the moment he was free; however, before he could, a spatial lock came into place, locking everything down in an instant.

"That's enough teleporting from you, Aodhán Brystion." The spatial awakened smiled as Aodhán and Daruk tried to fight against the lock, burning with willpower.

It should have worked. They should have been able to break free, but they weren't just fighting against the spatial awakened. They were fighting against Abyssos itself, a massive pressure pressing down on them from the handlers themselves.

More pursuers gathered around them, their numbers swelling with each passing second while the spatial awakened basked in her victory.

His hunters closed in from all sides, including Monica, who wore a grim expression as she glared at the spatial awakened who had stolen her prize. Aodhán glanced between them all, mind racing for a solution, but before he could formulate anything, Daruk shouted from beside him.

"Will you all just stand there while this woman steals your bounty after all the work you put in to catch him?"

"What?!" Aodhán exclaimed in shock, unable to believe what he was hearing, but Daruk pressed on without even glancing his way.

"There are nineteen of you here, and one reward. Surely you won't just watch this spatial awakened claim the prize you so desperately need?"

The spatial awakened faltered, her blade half-raised in triumph as the attention of every gathered captive shifted from Aodhán to her in an instant.