The moment Solace finished with the Dragon Prince, he vanished from the scene, cutting through the sky with blistering speed. His destination was not Solara—not yet. His plan for the kingdom went far beyond a simple assassination.
No, he would bring it to ruin.
They had dared to use him as a pawn. Dared to cast him aside like a tool.
"Haha! I'll give them true Solace!" he laughed, voice unraveling into the wind like a madman's dirge.
After hours of relentless flight, he finally descended upon the mouth of his hidden cave. Inside its familiar shadows, he stripped off his shirt and mask, the metal and fabric clattering softly to the stone floor. Sitting cross-legged, he exhaled slowly, letting the ambient mana of the cave seep into his pores.
"Alright, system," he said, eyes shut. "Tell me—what comes after Level 500? I don't want to start something I can't finish."
[Next is the Second Realm of Power, also known as the Ascendant Realm. This is where you will cease to be mortal. Until now, your body has merely been adapting to your affinities' power.
From here, progress no longer depends on leveling up. Cultivation in the Ascendant Realm is comprehension-based. There are six realms in total—the first of which is the Core Realm.]
[To step into the Core Realm, you must form a core—not a physical one, but an ethereal construct housed in a separate plane, currently inaccessible to others. This core is forged from the Essence of Laws.]
Solace raised an eyebrow. "You mean... like the Laws from cultivation novels?"
[Indeed. Laws are complex structures that govern reality. Your affinity with space, for instance, currently allows you to perform basic spatial manipulation, such as position-swapping. But if you possessed the Law of Space, you could teleport with mere thought.]
He nodded, intrigued. "Interesting... Alright, before I begin—tell me honestly. How does this world's power scaling work? And where do Ascendant cultivators stand?"
[The power structure here runs deeper than it appears—and no, the Ascendant Realm is not the pinnacle. There are hidden factions and cultivators at play behind the scenes, entities operating far beyond the public eye.
That said, within most Kingdoms, Ascendant cultivators are the apex. Kingdoms typically rely on Core Realm cultivators as their backbone. Solara, for example—the King and Queen are both in the Core Realm. However, they have an Ancestor in the Ascendant Core stage, which comes after the Core Realm.]
Solace absorbed the information and let out a breath, comforted by the knowledge that he was ascending on the correct path. Without hesitation, he activated his Abyssal Eyes and began cultivating.
His body, long accustomed to channeling vast reserves of mana, drew in the ambient energy like a magnet. In moments, he entered a deep trance.
Hours passed. Then more. Yet with each breath, his comprehension expanded. His Abyssal Eyes—gifts of an ancient bloodline—were no ordinary vision. Even with his lids closed, he saw things that defied logic: ancient scripts, long-forgotten glyphs, and living memories etched into time itself.
He saw the primordial dance of Fire, the embrace of Shadows, the ripple of Space, and the ever-turning wheel of Time.
After nearly eight hours, an illusory core took form behind him—an orb of woven flame, shadow, spatial distortion, and temporal flux. As soon as it solidified, it shimmered out of sight, slipping into the inaccessible plane.
Solace's eyes snapped open.
[Ding! Congratulations. You have entered the Core Realm.]
[Laws Comprehended: Fire, Shadows, Space, Time.]
A grin tugged at Solace's lips.
"Now," he whispered, voice sharp with anticipation, "let's roll the Gacha."
[Gacha rolling…]
[Listing results:]
The Black Root of Veyruhn
Flame of the Ninth Tongue
The Sanguine Codex
The Gilded Reservoir
Cradle of the Dreaming Core
The Archive of Breathless Thought
Solace raised a brow as the items unfolded before him, each one pulsing with its own eerie weight through the system's interface. He studied them closely, his Abyssal Eyes parsing their descriptions, testing their resonance against his core.
"So much power… and yet I can only take three," he muttered.
His eyes lingered briefly on the Black Root—its allure immense, yet tainted by the whisper of annihilation. He dismissed it. Not yet.
"Hmm… I choose Breathless Thought, Cradle of the Dreaming Core, and The Gilded Reservoir."
[Confirmed. Distributing rewards…]
A quiet rumble shook the cave as three separate sigils appeared before him—each unique, ancient, and humming with mana older than empires.
The Archive of Breathless Thought descended first, unraveling from the void like a beast emerging from silence. Bound in black-scaled leather, it hovered in front of him before sealing itself into his spiritual sea. Immediately, his mind began absorbing pages—not with words, but intent. Knowledge flowed silently, spell structures built themselves in abstraction, and for the first time, Solace understood what it meant to shape reality without sound or gesture.
The Cradle of the Dreaming Core followed. A translucent orb hovered just above his mana heart, spinning slowly. As it fused with his core, a gentle warmth bloomed inside him. With it came a whisper—soft, ancient, and full of longing.
"Sleep, and you shall awaken beyond time…"
Finally, the Gilded Reservoir appeared—a golden chalice etched with runes that shifted as he gazed upon them. He reached out. The moment his hand touched it, mana surged through his arm like liquid fire—yet it did not burn. It restored. He could feel his core pulsing stronger, his cultivation steadier. The scars of old battles—wounds he hadn't even known remained—faded in an instant.
[All items successfully bound to host.]
Solace exhaled slowly. "With these… Solara will fall even faster than I planned."
He turned his gaze toward the golden sigil pulsing softly on his wrist—the symbol of the Gilded Reservoir. An eternal wellspring now tethered to his soul.
But an idea sparked within him.
He raised an eyebrow, his tone calm yet curious. "System, what happens if I assimilate the Gilded Reservoir? I already have the phoenix bloodline; my healing factor is high. But mana… that kind of regeneration, I lack."
[Well,] the system replied, tone neutral but tinged with ancient weight,
[you'll gain infinite mana regeneration. And before you ask—yes, you can. Just command your blood to do the work for you.]
Solace nodded. "Understood."
Without hesitation, he willed it.
His phoenix-infused blood responded, his will alone enough to bypass rituals or incantations. A small cut split open on his wrist—not deep, but precise. His crimson essence poured forth like molten light, pooling into the floating chalice, now gleaming with anticipation.
The moment the blood touched the Gilded Reservoir, the artifact shuddered. The runes shifted, spun faster—then cracked open. A brilliant surge of gold and blue mana exploded outward, washing over the cave in a wave of elemental purity.
The chalice began to unravel.
Not destroyed, not consumed—fused.
It dissolved into a stream of liquid light and sank into Solace's wrist, embedding itself into his bloodstream. His veins pulsed with a golden glow, and for a moment, his entire body trembled—not in pain, but in transformation.
He staggered forward slightly, eyes widening as the depth of mana coursing through him surged beyond comprehension.
No longer a vessel of limited power.
He had become a well without bottom, a mana star forged into human flesh.
He could feel it: his mana regenerating faster than it could be spent. Spells that would once require careful preparation, channeling, or cost now felt like breathing. Even passive cultivation—what once needed stillness—now occurred in motion.
His core expanded. His soul spark brightened.
And far away, deep beneath the leyline crust of the continent, something ancient stirred in response.
Solace took a breath, one hand glowing faintly with his new vitality. He clenched his fist, the air around it distorting as it struggled to contain the sheer density of mana emanating from his skin.
"Now this," he said quietly, "is what I call power."
He turned toward the entrance of his cave, the shadows parting as if fearful of what he had become.
It was time to move.
---
Far below the crust of the world, where no kingdom reached and no spell had ever touched, she stirred.
Deep within the Heartfold, nestled in the nexus where all ley lines converged, an ancient awareness opened her eyes—not as mortals did, but as a world might dream. Gaia, the Consciousness of Earth, felt the tremor ripple through the planetary veins.
Something unnatural had emerged.
No—something new.
Mana, in its most volatile form, had surged beyond natural threshold. Like a geyser erupting through stone, it had punched through the surface of order. Such things did not go unnoticed.
"This… is no mere awakening."
Her voice was not sound but thought—one that moved through stone and root, through time and memory. The mana signature was brilliant, unique… and unwritten in the Earth's design. And at its center stood a being unregistered by any racial memory.
She reached into the Worldveil, pulling forth its threads. Her gaze, incorporeal yet infinite, focused upon a lone figure in a cavern—eyes dark and gleaming, body alive with an unknown bloodline laced with phoenix fire, and a core pulsing like a newborn star.
"A 23-year-old… Core Realm cultivator?"
That alone would be rare.
But it was not his speed that startled her.
It was that he bore no ancestral ties, no ley resonance from Elves, Dwarves, Dragons, or even Primordials. He was not of the Circle of Known Bloodlines.
Yet the Earth did not reject him. It recognized him.
Not as a threat…
…but as something interesting.
"A race… that begins with one."
Her intrigue shifted into purpose.
With a single thought, Gaia pulled a sliver of herself from the Heartfold. The soil within a distant glade stirred. Trees bent. Stones hummed. And from the earth, rising on a column of crystalline root and mineral-woven flesh, formed a woman—not of bone and blood, but Gaia's Avatar.
She took the shape of a being both regal and primal. Her skin gleamed like dark emerald. Hair of vine and mana-light flowed down her back. Eyes of twin ley-suns blinked open, seeing the world as Gaia did.
"Go," the original whispered through her.
"Find this Solace. Speak with him. Observe. Learn. And should he prove true… just go."
The clone nodded, barefoot on moss, and vanished into the wind—moving with the will of continents.
Solace's Cave
He paused.
His instincts sharpened.
Something was coming.
From outside, the ground did not quake—it welcomed. Roots parted like curtains. And through them stepped her.
Tall. Graceful. Composed.
Skin like living stone, hair a constellation of vines and luminous mana. She radiated not hostility, but age—a presence so ancient it made time feel young.
"Solace," she said, voice rich as fertile soil after rain. "I am Gaia. This world's breath, its memory, and its mother."
Solace tilted his head. His usually impassive expression shifted—just slightly.
But he didn't respond instantly.
'System, what does she mean this world's breath?'
[Well,] the system responded calmly, [this is a clone of this world's consciousness.]
His eyebrows rose. That was… unexpected.
Then aloud: "And what do you want with me?"
"I felt a sudden mana surge within the leylines," Gaia replied, stepping closer. "You've touched the World's Veins with a mana signature I've never known. Not dragonkin, not Elven, not Feyborn, not Divine. You are a first, are you not?"
He studied her, silent for a moment.
Then he nodded. "I am."
Her gaze deepened, becoming almost reverent.
"A Progenitor… of what?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, but inside, his mind was already speaking again.
'Should I tell her?'
[It wouldn't hurt anything,] the system replied.
[The Aethernal race won't be hidden forever.]
Solace grinned faintly. "Well," he said, "I'm an Aethernal. The one and only."
Gaia's expression changed—softly, but unmistakably.
A smile touched her lips, slow and curious.
"Interesting... Well, if you don't mind, then I will stick around with you for a bit."
Solace shrugged. "Sure. As long as you don't interrupt my plans."
With that, he rose into the sky, his silhouette slicing through the clouds like a blade of light.
And from behind, Gaia followed—effortlessly.
Their destination was set.
The Solara Kingdom.
And fate itself had begun to turn.