War is upon us. The clash of steel, the cries of the fallen, the raw, unbridled chaos—it calls to me a siren song that I cannot resist. There’s a savage beauty in the symphony of it, an elegance in the dance of death that stirs something primal deep within me. This is what I was born for—the crucible where true warriors are forged.
Az’marthon Ranok.
Year 1964.
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Aodhán didn’t know when he finally summoned the courage to open the book, but he’d been reading it for more than three hours now, and he’d come to a single conclusion: Az had lied to him.
Aodhán shut the book an hour later; he’d read enough—in fact, he’d read so much that he no longer wanted to know more. Az had been born in a forgotten corner of the 10th sector about 500 years ago.
He’d been the only child in his Unawakened parents, both of whom were farmers, and they'd taken good care of him. His life had been perfect and uneventful, but things changed when he awakened on his sixteenth birthday.
His parents had been joyous and had traveled all the way to the Black Forest Academy in the central kingdom (Lutia) to enroll him. Az had excelled in the academy, accumulating power beyond his peers and surpassing limits once believed to be natural.
He’d been hailed as an unmatched genius and a champion of the kingdom, but that was until his third year at the academy. Bandits from the Sunstonian kingdom had crossed the border and raided his village; they had raped, looted, and killed all the villagers, including his parents.
Az had returned home for the summer break only to find the rotten corpses of his family and all the people he once knew. He'd been stricken with grief, triggering a consuming thirst for vengeance within him.
Fueled by rage and grief, his power bloomed as his spirit aligned more and more with the destructive aspect of storm. He spent his last year in the academy mastering his skills and creating new ones, honing himself into a weapon of destruction aimed at his enemies.
Immediately after he graduated from the academy, he joined the army, and as if by fate, the first war began a year later. It lasted twelve years before both kingdoms called for a temporary ceasefire, but by that time, Az had already earned the name Butcher.
He’d cleaved through the Sunstonian army with astonishing ease, cutting down their soldiers with the utmost brutality. Rather than fight with ranged skills like most awakeneds usually did, Az rushed into the chaos of battle and with lightning claws, brutally tearing each soldier apart until only a few grisly remains of their bones and flesh were left.
During those twelve years of war, Az had risen through the ranks with unprecedented speed, and by the end of it, he'd already been appointed a colonel. He had disappeared after the war, only to return when it resumed twenty years later.
Immediately he returned; King Ragnar the second had promoted him to the rank of general as he’d reached the third stage of evolution at the time and was already closing in on the last. That had been the king's first mistake and the beginning of true horror.
With the authority and power of his new post, Az had unleashed his rage on the Sunstonians, taking the battles away from the borders and into their sectors. Sometimes he went alone and sometimes with his army, but every time he fought, he unleashed so much devastation and bloodshed that the Sunstonians named him the Harbinger of ruin.
The Sunstonians retaliated, sending their own generals and apostates to destroy Ragnarok, but for every city they burned down, Az destroyed two.
The cycle of destruction continued as Az grew more violent and powerful. He lost his mind to the chaos of the origin planes, and stripped himself of any semblance of humanity.
He became uncontrollable, and defied the orders of his superiors, even that of the king. But he had grown too strong. Too powerful to cage, and almost impossible to kill.
After many years of unbridled destruction, Az finally evolved to the last class of evolution, and was then forced, both by the System and the king himself to ascend. From what Aodhán read, Az had been given a choice, either to ascend or to have his power restricted.
He'd chosen the former, but decided to enact his last act of vengeance— the destruction of the 7th sector in the Sunstone kingdom— before ascending.
That was the vision Aodhán had seen. Az hadn’t been a soldier, nor had he been following any orders aside from his own. He had caused devastation not only to the Sunstonian kingdom, but the consequences of his actions had ruined Ragnarok, terribly crippling their economy.
Aodhán sighed wearily. He’d absorbed the legacy of the butcher, the slaughterer of thousands, if not millions, but Lupin was right—catastrophe was a much better description for his patron.
“After all that destruction, isn’t it just foolishness to be fighting another war? As they say, history always repeats itself.”
Aodhán turned to see the old librarian standing behind him. She cracked a smile that failed to reach her eyes before moving on to the next reading table.
Aodhán shook off the sudden chill he felt from her words and immediately returned the book. It was already evening, and after so many hours of reading, Aodhán was tired, both mentally and emotionally, and the only cure for such a disease was a hot, spicy dinner.
He texted Daruk, who informed him that he’d just arrived at the cafeteria, so Aodhán moved to join him. When he arrived at the cafeteria, though, he found Andrew seated with Daruk.
“I just arrived about an hour ago.” Andrew stated after they placed their orders and chose a table, and his expression sobered. “I bring bad news though; the Sunstonian army took Sentinel's Edge, the capital of the 8th sector and destroyed almost all the industries in it.”
“That’s a lot of damage.” Daruk replied in shock, and Andrew shrugged. "My father and the other nobles are running around, trying to salvage what they can, but there hasn’t been much hope.”
“I’m sorry about that.” Aodhán consoled. “Hope the citizens weren’t too affected."
“No, the Sunstonians were very intentional about what they destroyed.” Andrew clenched his fists in anger. “The war is escalating, and that means I—we have to grow stronger, or at least strong enough to protect our families and loved ones.”
Aodhán and Daruk shared a worried glance. If the war was escalating, then—No! Aodhán shook his head, unwilling to complete the thought. He wasn’t Az, and history would not repeat itself in the Warren; surely, it couldn’t, not with the Areli and the battalion of soldiers residing within it. The Warren was safe.
Daruk seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts, and he nodded in agreement. “Andrew is right; we need to get stronger, not for the academy or for any competition, but for ourselves.”
“And those too weak to protect themselves.” Andrew added, but the librarian’s words lingered in Aodhán's mind. Why had she said those words to him? What did it truly mean that he’d absorbed Az’s legacy? Was he bound to turn into a mass murderer like his patron?
His mind flashed back to the conversation he'd had with Az in his vision. The ascendant hadn't looked insane or cruel, in fact, he'd looked kind, fatherly even, and only the calamity he'd wrecked in Aodhán's first vision had kept him from fully trusting the man.
“Aodhán?”
His attention snapped back to the present, and he apologized. "Sorry, I kind of zoned out for a moment.”
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“It’s fine,“ Andrew answered. “I was wondering if you could train us. Daruk told me about your outstanding level of control, and I was wondering if you could share some pointers.”
“Yeah, sure.” Aodhán replied. “I don’t have much training left to do anyway.”
“Thank Raol.” Daruk said with an expression of relief. “You were beginning to act like a cultivation maniac.”
“No, I was not.”
“Yes, you definitely were.”
Their food arrived a moment later, and they enjoyed their time together, chatting, and it wasn't until the sun began to set that they finally left the cafeteria. Now that Andrew was back, Daruk suggested they both spend the night in his house since both of their houses were still empty, and Andrew agreed.
They parted ways after that, and when Aodhán reached his house, he opened the door to see Imani once again reading in the living room. Books were scattered all over the table, and she seemed to be reading more than one textbook at once.
She smiled shyly when she saw him and Aodhán sat on the couch nearest to her. imani looked surprised by his actions and asked. “No urgent meditation or cultivation sessions to return to today?”
“Nah.” Aodhán shrugged. “I’m too tired to do anything, but thanks to the technique you showed me, I’ve made decent progress.”
“Really? How many weaves can you create simultaneously?”
“Eight.” Aodhán lied, but Imani bought it, and her expression fell. Her hands tightened on the textbook she held, and she muttered. “Just as I suspected, your control is amazing; only three days of training, and you’re already weaving more strands than I can.”
“It’s not a competition.” He replied after a moment of silence, but she shook her head, tensed, and almost seemed to be close to tears.
"You don't understand." She sighed wearily, and Aodhán wondered where the carefree girl who'd almost taken off his head had gone.
She shook her head. "I'm ranked 72nd on the forge list. I— I didn't realize just how competitive the academy would be. I thought I was strong enough."
Aodhán leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Classes haven't even begun yet, you have an entire school year to grow stronger and figure things out."
She shook her head. “Aodhán, the 5th academy is one of the best in the kingdom, and in a time of war like this, everyone is watching, observing, and searching for hidden gems. Unlike you, I can’t afford to fail or wash out; such a thing would be a stain and a disgrace to my family's name, and reputation.*
"Unlike me?" Aodhán shifted back, offended. She had been so nice to him, that he'd thought, perhaps, she was like Andrew. Apparently, he'd been wrong.
Aodhán stood up; perhaps he was underestimating just how competitive things in the academy would be, but he was glad he'd this conversation.
Unlike he and Daruk, who had come to the academy to escape military conscription, the nobles had come here for the prestige it offered their families, for pride, and to glorify their family names.
Unfortunately for Imani, he had no intention to fail either, and if only a dozen of them would graduate, then he would make sure that he and Daruk made the list. He left the room a moment later and Imani returned to her books.
……
Aodhán awoke the next morning to a message from Daruk asking him to meet them at the training arena by 9 a.m. He groaned before sitting up and making his way to the bathroom to freshen up. He took his time today, enjoying the feel of water as it streaked across his chest and down his muscled body.
Just a few minutes before nine, he finally stepped out of the house, created a lightning platform, and zoomed off in the direction of the public training area.
The building was a wide, circular structure that was constructed entirely out of concrete, reinforced with Ragnar steel and Romanian glass.
Like other structures made of Romanian glass, the building absorbed the rays of sunlight rather than reflect them, which gave it a sort of dark aura even on the brightest of days. It was even wider than the library, and when Aodhán stepped into it, he realized that it was filled with dozens of training rooms of various sizes.
Andrew and Daruk were already waiting for him, and they made their way to the training room Daruk had chosen.
“It’s not the biggest room, but it should serve us well." Daruk stated as he raised his ID card to a scanner by the door before pushing it open.
The room was double the size of their personal training rooms, and Aodhán noticed that it was even more protected as he sensed the lines of runic scripts flowing through the entire room. The floor, ceiling, and walls were made of smooth concrete, so the training room was simply a large box of concrete covered in dense runic markings.
A small screen at the top of the left wall displayed the time, but aside from that, the room was completely bare. Andrew clapped dramatically and pointed a finger at him.
“I know that you can easily beat us in a one-on-one match, but how about a two-on-one?”
Aodhán chuckled. “I actually don’t know, but I’ll be happy to find out.”
The next minute, they’d arranged themselves, with Andrew and Daruk on one side and Aodhán on the other.
“We go on three,” Daruk announced, and Aodhán created a single imbued strand within his core.
“One.”
Daruk spread his awareness to the moisture in the air and simultaneously created five imbued strands of willpower in his core.
“Two.”
Andrew stretched out a hand as he created seven weaves of energy and willpower within his core, holding it just an inch away from his pathways.
“Three.”
Thunder boomed as a roiling storm materialized into existence, and several arcs of lightning struck down immediately. A cascade of jagged ice rushed towards Aodhán with a sound not unlike the cracking of glass, and a second later, half a dozen black thorny vines erupted from Andrew’s palms, coated in the telltale shimmer of poison.
Aodhán smiled as both skills suddenly smashed against a black shield imbued with the strand of willpower. The shield wouldn’t last long, not under the onslaught of ice and thorny vines, but Aodhán didn’t need it to, as the next moment, small black spears shot down from the storm like rain.
The boys dodged, trying and failing to escape the rain of spears, but the next minute, they were both pinned to the ground with small cuts covering their entire bodies. The rain of spears wasn't meant to hurt them; merely distract them and ruin their focus.
“What are you even training for?” Andrew shouted incredulously as he stood to his feet. “You took the both of us down in less than a minute.”
“I told you, Andrew, my brother is a monster.” Daruk stated sullenly, but Aodhán just smiled, basking in the feeling of victory.
Andrew shook his head in amazement and asked. “So, what did we do wrong?”
“Nothing really; you’re simply lacking control, and the rain of spears simply destroyed your concentration.”
“What I want to know is how to rectify that.” Daruk grumbled. “My control has increased, yet I lost any sense of it immediately the rain of spears appeared. Also, isn’t that a new skill?”
Aodhán ignored Daruk’s question and replied. “You don’t need my help, Daruk; trust me, you’re doing great; all you need is more control and time. Andrew, on the other hand, needs to learn a new technique.”
“What technique?” Andrew asked as Aodhán pulled him to a corner of the room and forced him into a meditative pose.
Aodhán sat opposite him and smiled. “The perfect will imbuement technique; are you ready?”
It took Andrew about three hours to learn the technique, and when he tested it, his eyes widened in amazement. “I can’t believe it; the power of my skills almost doubled.”
Aodhán chuckled. “Remember, you can’t imbue your will strands with more than three strands of energy. I’ve tried it, and trust me, you do not want to try it.”
They sparred once more, and this time, their attacks were more formidable, but Aodhán still won. After all, his level of control was leagues above their own.
They continued the training the next day, and on the third day, they finally caused him to stumble. Daruk took advantage of the opening as if his life depended on it, and Aodhán was suddenly encased in a block of ice.
Daruk screamed in excitement. “We did it! I can’t believe we did it! Take that, Aodhán, you suck!”
Aodhán sighed and shook his head. If he wanted to get out of the construct, he could, but it was much fun to let Daruk have this moment, but when the cold began to seep into his bones, he called out.
“Let me out of here before I freeze to death.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Aodhán; I need to relish this moment for another minute.”
He turned to Andrew, who simply shook his head. “I’m sorry, man, but I’ve been dreaming of this for the last two days; stay a while longer.”
Daruk finally let him out a minute later, grumbling about the lack of a camera in the chip. "Oh, I would have framed it and hung it on my wall.“
“I assure you that it will not happen again,“ Aodhán replied in mock anger as they left the training room and returned to the residential quadrant. Most of the other students had returned by now, even those from other years, and the atmosphere in the academy was much more lively.
Aodhán had spent the last two days training with the boys, but he’d also spent a significant amount of time on his own training. He hadn’t really advanced past 12 strands, but coupled with his new skill, {Spear rain}, he was feeling quite confident in himself.
The tournament was the next day, and although he was still feeling a little nervous, he knew he’d done all he could and could only hope for the best.
He walked past a group of students as he made his way to house 14. Some of them acknowledged his greeting, while others simply ignored him, but at this point he couldn't care less.
He walked into the house a minute later, but paused when he found Eren Thornhill and another noble he recognized from the rift station, seated with their traveling bags on the couch, chatting merrily with Imani.
They all turned to him, and Aodhán didn’t miss the change in all their expressions. Imani suddenly looked guilty, the other girl merely curious, while Eren looked like he was watching a frog gorge on its own entrails.
“Is that him?” The girl asked in a coy manner. “He’s quite hot for a commoner.”
“Meredith Castalon!” Imani exclaimed before turning to him to apologize, but Eren cut her off and chuckled.
“There’s no need to apologize; after all, she speaks the truth.”
Aodhán sighed, already tired. How was he supposed to survive an entire year with these people?
Trying to diffuse the sudden tension, Imani chuckled and let out a very plastic smile. “Funny! Aodhán, you haven’t met Eren Thornhill and Meredith Castalon yet. These are our—”
“Housemates, yes, I’m aware; now, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll be in my room.” Aodhán replied as he moved towards the stairs. Eren whispered something that made Meredith burst out with laughter, but whatever it was, Aodhán didn’t care. The tournament was the next day, and that was all he cared about.