Rising god-Chapter 135: Authority: Extraction I

Baines’ mind lingered on the war against the Silvers, that fleeting moment before collapse when Ashenfall’s violet waves had erupted, saving them. Wick’s words echoed: a statue had intervened.

’Is it calling me now?’ Baines thought as he quietly passed through the changed scenery of the ruins of Ashenfall, their jagged stones glowing faintly under the violet-tinged sky.

Ten dragons trailed silently, as Baines followed a winding path up the mountain toward an open throne.

By the 10th step, he noticed a slight pressure on him; however, it was only a slight tug, so he dismissed it as residual power from the statue up the throne. However, by the 50th step, the pressure slowed his movement.

That’s when Baines frowned and noticed, ’Are they testing me?’ He spun to the dragons following behind. "Is this a test?"

"Yes, this is a test to see your will—" a female dragon, Vitka, began, her voice calm but firm.

"Fuck off," Baines snapped, stunning them to silence. Their thoughts were obvious. Why did he say that?

Baines hissed and turned, descending the mountain, his boots crunching on loose stone. The dragons exchanged glances, bewildered.

"Huh?"

"W-Why are you coming down?"

"..."

Baines ignored them and kept walking down, then the dragons moved to block his path, their figures looming.

"Don’t test my patience and fuck off," Baines growled, not even stopping.

"Can you explain why you’re so angry?" Vitka asked, her scales glinting as she stepped forward," Not understanding the situation.

"Why?" Baines suddenly stopped and faced them. "I don’t fucking have time for these games. I came here just to meet foreign creatures and other things I don’t know, then you want to test me? For what? As far as I remember, I am the first to use ashenfall correctly." It was maddening to Baines, as his voice thundered, frustration boiling over. "Let someone else show you their will, I’m leaving."

"So, you’re running away?" Rustar taunted,

Baines didn’t hesitate. He drew his sword, Ashenfall’s violet energy surging in force, mingling with his Blood Palace. Sword resonance hummed, decay and destructive aura crackling, soul and blood energy swirling in a deadly vortex, all forced into one sword.

He thrust forward, the blade singing with power. "Nooo!" the dragons cried, but Baines was deaf to them.

BOOOOOOM! An explosion erupted, violet light blinding the mountain. However, a shimmering barrier absorbed the attack. As the dust settled, the barrier was still standing, and Rustar lay sprawled, wide-eyed, sweat beading on his scales. The others exhaled in relief.

Sorry. If. We. Made. You. Angry.

A voice cut through the tension. Baines looked up to see the statue Wick had described, floating meters above, its stone form radiating violet mana, eyes glowing like twin stars.

"Who are you?" Baines demanded, sword still raised.

The female dragon, Vitka, rushed forward and explained, "We were born from the storm at the centre of the storm, as everything you’re seeing here."

’The storm?’ Baines’ mind raced to that moment, "Then if I am the only person that can enter, why test me?" He looked at the statue.

"B-Because," Vitka stammered, bracing for another outburst.

"Let me make myself clear now," Baines said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you think I am going to use this power for anything good, then let me leave now. Until I achieve my goals, this world will bleed." He made his stance, without hiding anything. "No tests, and don’t disturb me." He glared particularly at the dragons, because they were likely to be among those who disturbed him.

You. Are. Honest. Alright.

The statue agreed, withdrawing the barrier and disappearing from its position, leaving a ripple of ashenfall in its wake.

Baines didn’t glance back and made his way back up the mountain while the dragons remained.

"Alright, we shouldn’t provoke him." One of them said.

"Shit, he nearly killed Rustar," another muttered, eyeing the shaken dragon.

Rustar looked away, embarrassed. "Hehe, looks like things will get interesting," a female dragon, Bihri, giggled, skipping up the mountain.

"Hey, Bihri, didn’t you hear?" One of them shouted and chased after.

"Hey, don’t leave me!" others called, chasing after. Only Vitka and Rustar remained.

"Did you know he was like that?" Rustar asked Vitka. Unlike the rest of them, she was the firstborn and strongest of the ten.

"We’ll soon find out," Vitka replied.

...

Baines didn’t encounter any issues this time as he ascended the mountain and entered the open throne room, unimpeded, the air thick with ancient power. The chamber was as he remembered, ruined yet majestic, but now it was different.

The open throne room was like stepping into a vast, roofless chamber carved into the mountain’s peak, where the air thrummed with primal energy. The ruins of Ashenfall pulsed around him, their cracked stone walls etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly violet, as if whispering secrets of a lost era.

The chamber was both desolate and majestic, its vastness dwarfing Baines, yet alive with purpose. A violet carpet, woven with threads that shimmered like liquid starlight, stretched across the floor, leading to a grand staircase of obsidian, each step polished to a mirror-like sheen, reflecting the violet sky above.

Flanking the carpet stood towering sentinel sculptures, each a colossus of stone and mana, their forms like titans, clutching spears that crackled with dormant energy. Their eyes, carved from amethyst, seemed to track Baines’ every move.

The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient dust, mingling with a faint metallic tang, as if blood had once soaked these stones. At the staircase’s apex sat a throne, hewn from a single slab of black crystal, its surface veined with violet pulses, radiating an aura that felt both regal and foreboding, as if it had witnessed the rise and fall of gods.

To the throne’s left, a mantle floated, its fabric a deep indigo that seemed to drink in the light, edges fraying into wisps of Ashenfall energy that danced like flames.

To the right hovered a sword, its blade a sleek curve of obsidian, etched with runes that pulsed in sync with the throne, its hilt wrapped in leather that seemed to hum with latent power. The entire chamber felt alive, a nexus of divine will, where the storm that birthed Ashenfall had left its mark.

"As Vitka said, when the storm birthed us and these relics." The statue’s voice echoed, now resonant and fluid, as if the throne room amplified its presence.

"I heard the authority is called Extraction," Baines said, his voice steady despite the chamber’s oppressive weight.

"That is correct," The statue responded.

Baines nodded, "So, what am I meant to do?"

"Lift the mantle. That mantle contains everything you wish to know." The statue pointed at the floating mantle that tugged his soul.

’So I’ll learn to release my Ashenfall.’ Baines nodded, climbing the obsidian stairs, each step reverberating with a low hum that vibrated through his bones. His violet aura flared, Ashenfall’s energy coiling around him like a second skin; there was no need for further qualifications.

He grasped the mantle, and a crushing pressure enveloped him. Dummm. He was lifted off the ground, the mantle’s power surging into him.

He suddenly found himself standing before his seven-year-old self.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freew𝒆bnov𝒆l.c(o)m