All Chapters of Beaten by my ex, now I'm a Trillionaire Heir: Chapter 151
- Chapter 160
170 chapters
Ch-151
The sea whispered beyond the cliffs like it remembered everything. The wind carried no urgency now; only the scent of salt, pine, and woodsmoke from the hearth inside the coastal home.Nathan stood barefoot on the porch, mug in hand, watching waves slam gently against the rocks. His eyes followed the horizon without really seeing it. Behind him, inside the glass-walled cottage built into the hillside, Harper moved quietly through the morning… feeding the cat, watering the small bonsai she had nursed back to life, adjusting the antique weather vane near the stairwell like it still mattered.They had been here three months. Enough time for wounds to close, though not always heal.Messages still came. Emergency requests, progress updates from relief zones, encrypted signals passed through Nyx’s ghost-coded systems. But they answered only the ones that needed them. The world was not broken anymore, it was rebuilding, and for once, not with fire.Nathan set the mug down and stepped inside
Ch-152
The years that had passed, had softened the world to an extent.From the top of the cliffs near Nova Point, the sea still roared against the rocks like it remembered the war. The old fortress had been converted into a school, its armor replaced by gardens and books, its silence filled with the thuds and grunts of practice. The rings had been buried. The council disbanded by design. And yet, some threads refused to break.Nathan stood at the edge of the training courtyard, watching a boy no older than ten swing a wooden sword with too much force and too little balance. His movements were erratic, clumsy. But the air around him shimmered slightly each time he exhaled—a flicker in the dust, too subtle for untrained eyes. “You’re using oo much arm, kid!” Nathan called gently. “Let the weight do the work.”The boy turned, cheeks red with frustration. “I’m trying.”“I know you are.” Nathan stepped into the circle of sand and grass, removing the long black coat that still bore faint traces
Ch-153
The tremor came at dawn.In the high mountain silence of Bhutan’s oldest monastery, prayer beads halted mid-chant. Scrolls trembled on ancient wooden shelves. A bell rang out—not by hand, but by the force that rolled under the earth like a breath held too long.Monks looked at one another in silence. They did not panic. They listened.In the sanctum’s heart—beneath layered centuries of carved stone, salt-stained prayer flags, and sedimented belief—something old stirred. Not just old. Primordial. Older than the Sovereign Codex, older even than the first Rings.Brother Tashi was the first to speak, his eyes unfocused. “The veil is thinning.”Far away, Nathan woke to a call routed through three dead satellites and a secure fiber line from Tenzin’s secondary temple.He arrived by dusk, the air around him thinner than breath. Wind scraped against stone as he stepped into the monastery courtyard. Monks bowed wordlessly as he passed. He didn’t stop to exchange greetings.Tenzin met him in th
Ch-154
The winds over Nova Point had shifted. Milder now, less burdened by the aftermath of war. Yet Harper hadn't slept in days.She stood at the edge of the overlook, eyes fixed on the horizon. The sea glimmered under a low moon, too still, too calm. In her hand, the old ring—the Ring of Renewal—remained cold. It had stopped reacting ever since the Seventh stirred. That... thing did not obey the patterns of the others.Behind her, the child stirred again.Nathan’s half-brother—Ren, they called him now—had been asleep for nearly fourteen hours straight. The boy muttered in tongues, sometimes full phrases, sometimes just breathy strings of sound. But always, always, his hand moved.Miko had given him a stylus and light-sensitive sheets. Harper picked up the newest one now, heart tightening.The same symbol.A black loop, jagged at the edges, coiled back on itself like a serpent eating its own future. A precise, unnatural spiral—drawn dozens of times. No variance. No deviation. A perfect impr
Ch-155
The wind howled across the steppes of Mongolia, carrying the scent of scorched metal and ancient stone. Miko stepped out of the transport first, her breath fogging in the cold morning air. Behind her, Nathan adjusted the scarf at his neck and scanned the desolate expanse. There was nothing but rock, frost, and the ruins buried beneath them, coordinates drawn from the remnants of a dream Ren had just a week prior.Miko’s fingers twitched unconsciously.The probability field around her shimmered faintly. She no longer saw time in straight lines. Not since the sealing of the Sixth Ring. Her vision fractured now—possibilities trailing behind every falling snowflake, branching off in decisions not yet made. It wasn’t constant. But it was getting worse. Or stronger. She couldn’t decide which.Nathan followed her to the ridge.Below them, part of the earth had caved in, revealing the skeletal arc of some forgotten structure beneath the permafrost. Their instruments had picked up rhythmic pul
Ch-156
The snow still carried Kairo’s echo.Even after his disappearance into the fractures of probability, the ruin he left behind refused to settle. Miko remained at the Mongolian site, decoding the stone sigils with the monks they’d summoned. But Nathan couldn’t stay still. Not after the discovery she made beneath the cracked monolith—beneath the very altar where the guardians had frozen time.The Seventh Ring was not a singular object.It had shattered, long ago—during some forgotten battle that predated even the Sovereign Codex. And those fragments… they hadn’t vanished. They had spread.Across the world, reality buckled. Quietly. Subtly. Towns disappeared from satellite networks. Birth records glitched. People dreamt of lives they hadn’t lived, and some never woke up. These weren’t random malfunctions—they were echoes. Signs that the fragments of the Seventh Ring had begun to infect the architecture of time itself.They called them zones of unreality.Nathan stood now at the edge of on
Ch-157
The frost hadn’t yet melted from Nathan’s coat when it began again.He stood alone on the balcony of the mountain compound, the last shred of the zone of unreality still gnawing at his thoughts. Below, the valley was quiet—fresh snowfall masking the restless tectonics of a world trying to forget what the rings had done. What they had done.And then, the air folded.No wind. No warning. Just silence twisting inward, and from it—her.Marion Voss.Or what was left of her.Not a body. Not even an echo. A psychic residue, flickering like a broken projection. She hovered in front of him, clothes tattered, her face both radiant and decaying—alive in one moment, ash in the next.Nathan didn’t flinch.“You shouldn’t exist,” he said quietly.Marion tilted her head, her eyes brimming with something not quite sorrow.“I don’t,” she replied. “Not truly. Just a remnant. A stain the Seventh couldn’t clean.”He stepped closer. “Then say what you came to say.”Her form flickered. “The Seventh Ring… do
Ch-158
The light had barely faded from Kairo’s broadcast when the skies above Bhutan split in two. A rift—thin, violet, and humming with residual heat—had formed just beneath the oldest monastery in the region. The Council had known it was coming. Marion’s warning. The fragments of the Seventh. Kairo’s declaration. They all pointed to one truth: The storm was here. Nathan, Harper, and Miko stood at the edge of the yawning crevasse, wind clawing at their cloaks. Below, the air shimmered like a mirage—reality bending and blurring around a vortex of lightless energy. “It’s not just a rift,” Miko said, kneeling with a scanner that trembled in her hands. “It’s an interface. Whatever’s down there is sentient. Not alive. But aware.” Nathan adjusted the collar of his coat and looked over the edge. “And hostile?” Miko didn’t answer. Beside them, Harper fastened the last clasp of her tactical harness, her jaw tight. “Let’s assume yes.” They descended. Ropes meant nothing here. Gravity flexed
Ch-159
The frost from Bhutan’s rift still lingered in Harper’s breath when the Sovereign Council convened once more, this time beneath the obsidian vaults of the Aeon Chamber.The silence between them was not peaceful. It was calculated.Harper stood apart, wrapped in a cloak of stillness that felt more earned than worn. Her aura no longer shimmered the same. Nathan noticed the dimming edges, the way her voice had turned precise—mechanical.At the table’s head, Nathan placed both palms on the carved stone. The Dominion mark still glowed faintly on his right hand. “We are not meant to be gods,” he said evenly. “The Seventh Ring was shattered for a reason. Whatever fragments we recover—our task is to contain them. Not wield them.”But already, the fracture was forming.Galen—tall, charming, with silver in his hair that hadn’t been there six months ago—leaned forward with a confidence only deep belief could forge. “Containment is fear,” he said. “Restraint is hesitation. And hesitation is how t
Ch-160
The winds had not yet stilled from Galen’s departure when the next fracture appeared.Nathan stood at the edge of a collapsed cliffside village in northern Kyrgyzstan, his boots crunching on soot and frost where homes had once stood. A week ago, this place had been filled with children and elders, livestock and trade routes. Now it was dust, felled by a rupture from one of the Seventh’s unreality storms.His hands ached.Behind him, the villagers—what few remained—watched from a distance, wide-eyed. Nathan didn’t speak to them. He couldn’t promise them safety. Not from this. Not yet.He closed his eyes, and Dominion pulsed in his chest like a war drum.The Codex had warned him—creation was not meant for mortal hands. The technique had no name, only a symbol: a ring split vertically, with a line cutting through the void.“Not to be used lightly,” Tenzin had once said. “Not unless you are willing to pay the price in your bones.”Nathan exhaled.He extended his hands, and the ring on his