Chapter 112: An Unworthy Soul
Rhys sat in the dim, quiet room of the Wandering Wyvern inn. The sounds of the celebrating city below were a distant, muffled hum, a world away from the cold reality spread across the table before him.
For hours, he had studied the crude map and the scrolls of information the leaders of Boulder Creek had compiled.
His fingers, stained with the faint dust of the Matriarch’s lair, traced the dark, unwavering line at the northernmost edge of the continent.
It was a simple line on a piece of old parchment, but it represented the single greatest obstacle to his future.
The Seal.
He had thought his path was one of accumulating power, of building his empire from the ground up until he was strong enough to face the powers of the Mainland.
But he was wrong.
For him to ascend, he had to face a god. Even if he became an immortal, he could not face a god yet; there was only one way for him to avoid that hopeless confrontation.
’System,’ Rhys thought, his gaze fixed on the ominous line on the map. ’Analyse the connection between the God of Karma, ascension, and this Seal. Use the data from these scrolls.’
The System’s response flowed into his mind, confirming his worst fears.
[Analysis complete. The path to ascension in this mortal world is governed by a fundamental universal law, which the locals refer to as the God of Karma. This law judges the accumulated merit and debt of a soul. Only those deemed "worthy" are granted the right to transcend the mortal realm.]
Rhys felt a familiar, bitter coldness settle in his chest. Worthy.
[The Host’s karmic debt, incurred from the erasure of the Azure Province, is calculated to be of a magnitude that is irredeemable through conventional means. Your soul is permanently marked as "unworthy." The standard path to ascension is closed to you.]
He had known it, of course. An act of such scale could not be without consequence. He felt no regret, only a grim acceptance. Either way, his choice had been made.
[The Seal is a primordial barrier that isolates this continent from the higher laws and energies of the universe. It is not a trial to be overcome, but a lock on the world. For the worthy, the God of Karma would grant a key.
For the unworthy, the lock remains absolute. Therefore, your only possible path to ascension is to bypass the judgment of Karma entirely.
You must physically travel to the Seal and use your own power to force a way through. It is an act of rebellion against the fundamental order of this world.]
A king without subjects, a god without worshippers, and now a cultivator with no sanctioned path forward. The irony was a taste like ash in his mouth. His entire existence was a defiance of the natural order.
It was only fitting that his path to power would be the same. He had a destination now, a final, impossible barrier to break. His journey would take him north.
He was so lost in his thoughts, in the cold calculus of his new reality, that he did not notice the change in the room until the voice spoke.
"No... Seal..."
The voice was a strained whisper, stripped of its usual lazy, flirtatious tone. Rhys looked up. Seduction was no longer lounging on the room’s only comfortable chair. She was sitting bolt upright, her body rigid.
The bored amusement was gone from her face, replaced by a pale, wide-eyed look of absolute dread.
For the first time since he had met any fragment of the Celestial Fox, Rhys saw genuine, unadulterated fear in her eyes. It was a fear so profound it seemed to chill the very air in the room.
"Why?" Rhys asked, his voice even.
Her fear was more valuable than any data the System could provide. This was a fear born from a knowledge that transcended mortal understanding.
"It’s dangerous," she whispered. Her voice trembled slightly, a sound so alien coming from her that it set every one of Rhys’s nerves on high alert.
She hugged her arms around herself, a gesture of self-protection that was completely out of character.
"Inside it is something no one wants to see..." her voice trailed off into a choked silence. "Why did the overseer send people of the ascension inside?"
Rhys leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his pitch-black eyes fixed on her. The map and the scrolls were forgotten.
This was the real information he needed.
"What is it? What is inside the Seal?"
Seduction shook her head, a frustrated, almost panicked look on her perfect face. Her usual confidence had shattered.
"I don’t know," she admitted, and the words seemed to cause her physical pain. "The memory is fragmented, a warning passed down... a terror so deep it was sealed even from us."
"Then why does everyone fear it?" he questioned, his tone calm and probing. He pushed past her emotional reaction, seeking the logical core of her terror.
"We don’t know!" she snapped, her voice rising with a note of hysteria. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands clenching the silk of her robes.
"We just know that its arrival will be a new beginning, but for that beginning, the universe has to be destroyed."
Rhys leaned back in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. He processed her words, the chilling paradox of them.
A new beginning born from the total destruction of everything. An enemy so ancient and so feared that even a Celestial being spoke of it in fragmented whispers of terror.
An enemy no one had ever seen.
"An enemy no one knows," he mused aloud. "It may or may not exist, but its potential arrival means the end."
Seduction looked deep into his eyes. "And this enemy... it’s unkillable. If you want to ascend..."
"No need," Rhys cut off her words. "There is nothing unkillable in the world. If something reached that stage, it would only prove the incompetence of everyone else."
The concept of something being unkillable was a direct challenge to his very nature. He was a being of the Void, a master of erasure.
He had faced Kaelen, a creature that seemed eternal, and had unmade him. The idea of something being truly, fundamentally immune to destruction was a foreign concept, a law that his own power was meant to break.
Without him noticing, his pupils started to emit dark flames, as if two black holes had replaced them.
Rhys stopped drumming. He pushed himself away from the table and stood up. He moved with a slow, deliberate grace, circling the table until he stood directly in front of her.
The flickering lamplight cast long, dancing shadows across the room. He leaned down, bringing his face close to hers, his pitch-black eyes locking onto her pink, heart-shaped pupils.
He saw her try to meet his gaze, but her eyes evaded his, darting away to a dark corner of the room. Her hands, resting in her lap, began to fidget nervously, her long, elegant fingers twisting and untwisting.
"There is no one who is unkillable," Rhys said.
His voice was not loud, but it filled the small room with a quiet, absolute certainty. It was a statement of his own fundamental law.
He watched the last of her composure crumble under the weight of his gaze.
She finally broke. Her terrified gaze met his, and he saw a deep, world-ending despair in their depths.
She took a shaky breath, and the words came out in a barely audible whisper, a name that seemed to carry the weight of a dying universe, a final, horrifying truth.
"There is one..." she said, her voice trembling.
"The Son of Creation..."