Rebirth: Necromancer's Ascenscion-Chapter 121: Quiet Between Flames

Ian’s hands curled into fists.He had sacrificed a piece of his soul at the gate.

But in return, he had become something more.

He turned to leave—

And stopped.

A figure stood in the tunnel ahead.

Cloaked. Hooded. Barefoot.

Not an enemy. Not a friend.

She removed her hood. Familiar hair. Pale skin. Eyes like fractured glass.

It was Selene. Only... different. Colder. Off.

"Selene?" Ian said.

She smiled.

"No," she replied softly.Then her skin split.

And the thing beneath emerged.

Black bone. Wings of smoke. A face carved like a mask. Not Selene.

Not human.

-------

The creature did not breathe.

Did not speak.

And most definitely did not look the slightest human.

It stood at the edge of the Vault’s entrance—its body an impossible geometry of shifting limbs and whispering teeth.

Its head was a wheel of skinless faces, each weeping smoke from empty sockets. Limbs folded inward, and unfolded again like blooming claws made of steel.

A reach entity.

It radiated nothing. No heat. No malice.

Only... hunger, hidden beneath stillness.

Terrifying it was, but Ian was completely unbothered by the absurdity of the creature, infact his mind still set on the possibility the this entity he had just met was the one Darkmist spoke about.

Ian’s boots scraped against the obsidian floor as he turned fully toward it, Vowbreaker still humming softly in his grip, faint trails of Soulflame flickering along the etched bone edge.

The being tilted its head.

Without recognition. Not in challenge.

But almost in curiosity.

Ian’s eyes narrowed.

"You’re...weak" he said aloud. "You’re a pointless obstacle."

The creature gave no answer, only stepped forward. Its movements were slow, intent filled—like a marionette unsure of its strings.

Around it, sound seemed to bend and fail.

Even the hum of ambient mana grew distant, dull. A field of unnatural muting spread in a radius, devouring all vibration, all breath.

A few feet from Ian, the thing paused.

A single step more—

And the world flinched.

Ian’s body didn’t move.

Didn’t need to.

Vowbreaker flashed.

The swing was barely a twitch—a flicker in the air, too fast for the eye, too sharp for the dying enemy.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then—

The creature’s entire form split.

Down the center, vertically, like a page torn in quiet.

There was no cry. No gurgle. No final roar.

Only a faint shhhh, like wind through dry leaves.

Its body folded inward, unraveling like ash caught in reverse flame. Where its core had been, something hovered—compact, smooth, and shaped like a teardrop cast in black metal.

It glowed once with quiet finality.

Ian stepped forward and plucked the relic from the air.

It was cold.

Not like stone or steel. But like the lack of something. Like a moment before terror.

A new prompt scrolled across his system interface, glowing barely.

> [You have acquired the Relic – Silence]

He tucked the relic away into his inventory with a thought.

Then paused.

With slow, deliberate ease, Ian reached into his inventory, pulled out a familiar crumpled box, and flicked it open.

A cigarette.

He placed it between his lips, letting the quiet settle around him.

A small flame burst at the tip of his finger—Soulflame, concentrated into a steady flicker. It caught the cigarette instantly, and smoke curled upward.

He inhaled, exhaled a soft plume, and muttered:

"I never got my lighter back from Eli, did I?"

He smirked faintly.

The vault felt oddly peaceful now—like the eye of a storm that was yet to realize it was done raging.

Ian raised his hand.

"Status window."

The panel opened before his vision, glowing like a blueprint of his life.

---

[ Ian Night ]

[ Bloodline: Voidborne Sovereign (Ancient, Extinct) ]

[ Title: Prophet of Death, Sovereign of the Hollow Flame ]

[ Bloodline Stage: Awakened ]

> Level: 27

Health (HP): 500 / 550

Mana (MP): 177 / 190

Necrotic Energy: 16846 / 19500

Soul Essence: 9600

Corruption: 36%

---

{Attributes}

> Strength (STR): 176

Agility (AGI): 193

Intelligence (INT): 85

Charisma (CHA): 6

---

[ Active Skills ]

> Soulbind (Rank 3) – Bind a soul to your service. Soul possesses 30× Strength of its living self.

Bonecraft (Rank 2) – Reshape bone into constructs, weapons, or armor.

Aura of Decay (Rank 2) – Slowly degrades living and nonliving matter in a radius.

Crown of the Forgotten – Manifest the Sovereign’s domain of dominion.

Blood Flame (Rank 1) – Combust blood and mana to unleash a volatile fire.

Soul Step (Rank 1) – Blink a short distance by stepping through bound spirits.

(...)

---

[ Passive Skills ]

> Grave-Touched – Siphon 1% Soul Essence per minute near death or decay.

Regeneration - All wounds are healed as long as Soul Essence remains.

Whisperer of Death – Undead under your command gain enhanced awareness and partial autonomy.

Eternal Hunger – Killing sentient beings restores Necrotic Energy.

(...)

---

{Inventory}

> Cigarette Pack (x?)

Relic – Hunger

Relic – Silence

Consumables:

Bread × 41

Water × 28

---

[SoulBound: 121]

> Karzan (Human Zealot)

Soul Strength: 16

Abilities: Dark Weapons

Upgrade Cost: 6000 NE

> Havoc (Demonic Predator Beast)

Soul Strength: 72

Abilities: ???

Upgrade Cost: 78000 NE

(...)

---

Ian lingered on the last line.

Havoc.

The corrupted demonic beast from the trial of merit . Still evolving. Still growing.

The cost to upgrade him was absurd—but not unreachable.

Didn’t matter, with twenty times it’s strength it was formidable enough.

And Karzan... the zealot from the ambush outside Esgard.

He had made about thirty of the Sanctum rats soulbounds that day.

His gaze shifted back to the scroll. A new symbol barely glowing at the bottom corner—a location marker.

The final relic: Decay.

He memorized the coordinates, then dismissed the panel with a thought.

The Vault was quiet once more.

No guards.

No warding glyphs.

No throne.

Just ash where the creature had stood.

But Ian knew better.

The Reach always watched.

He took another drag of the cigarette, eyes half-lidded.

From the surface, the world might not yet know what he had become. But the deeper parts—the old things buried under myth and forgotten ruin—they knew.

They would whisper his name in the dark soon enough.

"Couple more to go," he muttered.

And turned toward the shadows with Vowbreaker humming softly at his hip.