Chapter 14 – Breach of Shadows
Ashen sat with his back to the stone wall of the ruined corridor, his breath steadying after the intense skirmish against the late Martial stage wyvern. His right arm ached, a reminder of how close death had crept to him. Even with the help of his clone, it had taken every ounce of his strategic insight to outmaneuver the beast.
The deeper layers of the ruin were darker, thicker with energy that made the air feel like syrup. The stonework was now embedded with unfamiliar glowing veins—runes of some ancient civilization that pulsed with a sickly green light. His clone dissipated in flickering smoke beside him. Maintaining it too long had drained his spirit energy, and it would be some time before he could call on another.
The fight had reinforced something he'd been wrestling with for days—he wasn't invincible, dragon inheritance or not.
He gritted his teeth, his thoughts drifting to the sealed core nestled within his chest. The egg. Or rather, what remained of the sealed consciousness of the Stellar Chaos Dragon. It had been silent since the last vision, its presence quiet, distant. It neither comforted him nor offered wisdom. Ashen was on his own.
His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle shift of air—a low vibration in the floor. A trap?
He forced himself up, eyes scanning the cracked tiles. From the left, a distant clicking sound echoed. It was rhythmic. Insectoid.
He tensed.
Cautiously, he advanced, using the shadows to stay low and quiet. The passage curved, then widened into a hall lined with crumbled pillars. In the center of the room stood a stone dais with a broken pedestal, faintly glowing with runic residue.
Hovering around it were creatures—six-legged, black-shelled, no larger than wolves. Their sharp mandibles clicked in sync, circling the pedestal like guardians. Ashen's heart thudded.
"Scarab Sentinels," he whispered.
From his limited school lessons, he remembered these creatures. Protectors of ancient ruins. Normally dormant unless the core of the ruin was disturbed.
Which meant… the wyvern's rampage had likely triggered the central defense systems.
He couldn't fight them all—not without using another clone, and even then, these beasts were adapted to group strategy. But he noticed something—between their rotations, there was a brief window, a break in the formation.
A plan began to form.
Ashen retreated several steps and sat cross-legged. He had enough spirit energy for a short-term clone—ten seconds at best. Just enough.
He closed his eyes, focusing his intent.
A flicker of light pulsed from his core, and his clone formed beside him, eyes locked with his own.
"Distraction. Ten seconds. Go left, draw two off the formation."
The clone nodded once and vanished into the corridor. Ashen counted the seconds under his breath.
Four.
Five.
A distant hiss and shrill cry followed.
Six.
The formation broke.
He sprinted forward, feet silent on the cracked tiles, weaving through the momentary gap. He didn't aim for the pedestal, but rather the fractured wall behind it—half-concealed by debris.
A narrow slit in the stone glowed faintly, like a hidden passage.
With a grunt, he slipped through, just as the clicking returned behind him. A flash of movement. One of the Scarabs had seen him.
He bolted down the hidden corridor. It narrowed quickly, pressing in from both sides, and he could feel the heat of pursuit behind him. But the passage ahead turned sharply—then opened.
And he stumbled into a chamber unlike any he had seen so far.
It was round, the floor inscribed with massive celestial diagrams. Star patterns. Orbital paths. Ancient constellations carved into black obsidian.
And at the far end of the chamber… was a stone tablet.
Ashen approached slowly. The language was old—far older than any he'd studied—but the soul resonance sparked as he neared. It wasn't just a slab. It was an inheritance marker.
He placed his palm against it. A rush of memories poured into him.
—The ancient ones who first hunted dragons… The war between beasts and gods… The Stellar Chaos line born in defiance of fate—
His knees buckled, mind overwhelmed.
He saw flashes—dragons soaring across galaxies, their chaos breath unraveling stars, their forms shifting like living constellations.
And finally—a warning.
"Your path is divergence. But beware… for each gift granted by chaos demands a price. The further you tread, the less of yourself will remain."
Ashen's hand snapped back.
The vision ended.
He gasped, drenched in sweat.
The pursuit sounds were gone. The Scarabs hadn't followed. The chamber… protected him.
But that last message echoed ominously.
He touched his chest. The egg pulsed once, acknowledging the tablet. A resonance. As if it too had once been here. Maybe even born in this ruin.
He didn't know how much time passed, but when he finally stood, he felt… changed.
Not stronger in terms of raw power. But deeper. Grounded.
He'd taken a step closer to the truth behind the egg—and himself.
He turned back, knowing that the journey ahead wouldn't get easier. And that the secrets buried in ruins like these were just fragments of something far greater.
---
To be continued...