All Chapters of Born Without Magic, Destined to Rule All: Chapter 11
- Chapter 20
22 chapters
Chapter 011 – Cryo Wing Three
The double doors hissed open with a burst of steam and a hollow clang, like the exhale of a dying machine. Two armored guards shoved Zarek forward, their grip iron and merciless. He stumbled into the chamber beyond, his boots hitting the frostbitten floor with a loud crunch that echoed through the silent, frozen air. The doors sealed shut behind him with a metallic slam that sounded far too final. He was alone.The cold struck him like a weapon. Not the kind of cold that numbed the skin — this cold reached inside him, stabbing into his bones, sinking its claws into his spine. The walls were wrapped in creeping frost, spidering across the steel in patterns that pulsed with dim blue light. It felt less like a room and more like a tomb—ancient, sterile, and merciless. In the middle stood a towering cryo-tank, massive and cylindrical, humming with a low, almost mournful energy. Tubes slithered out from its base, burrowing into the floor like roots from a mechanical tree.Inside the tank,
Chapter 012 – I’ll Be Your Damnation
The iron doors slammed shut behind him like a judge’s final decree, sealing Zarek inside a chamber of nightmares. The sudden darkness pressed against his skin like a second, colder flesh, an invasive presence that seeped into his bones. His boots dragged across the tiles, slick with old blood, blackened chemicals, and something far fouler, a viscous slime that spoke of unspeakable experiments. Each step left red trails that vanished into the oppressive gloom of the maze of horrors around him. The silence was not empty. It breathed with the low hum of dormant machinery. It watched with the palpable weight of a thousand unseen eyes. It judged him for the sin of being alive within its profane grasp.Malrik’s private lab was no place for mortals. It was a cathedral of twisted science and desecrated magic, a perverse sanctuary where the boundaries of life were not just crossed but obliterated. Towering vats filled with churning blue ichor lined the walls, each one a prison for atrocities i
Chapter 013 – The Serpent Sigil
The wheels of the carriage groaned beneath Zarek as it pulled away from the spires of Arcvale Academy, grinding over weatherworn stones slick with dew and old magic. The sound was rhythmic, almost hypnotic, like a chant murmured by the bones of the road itself. Morning mist clung to the ground in gauzy layers, curling around the base of the trees like fingers reluctant to let go. Behind him, the sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, as though the world itself bled light across the horizon. But Zarek did not look back. He couldn't afford to. If he looked, he might see his mother still whispering his name under her breath, might see Ren’s half-hearted grin faltering, or Aven’s eyes burning with all the words she hadn't yet spoken.And if he saw them, he might not keep walking.He clenched his jaw and pressed his palm harder against the worn seat, willing the ache behind his ribs to stay silent. This was not the time for doubt, or for mourning, or for anything soft.The Ac
Chapter 014 – Ulmfang Mountains
The Ulmfang Mountains rose out of the void like the jagged ribs of some ancient titan, their peaks black and sharp, lost in storm clouds that never parted. No sun ever touched this place. The world here was stone, storm, and silence. Lightning arced across the cliffs in eerie silence, and the growl of thunder rumbled low in the mist, like the beastly breath of the mountain itself. The air was heavy with heat, as though the bones of the world burned beneath the rock. Each gust of wind carried with it the scent of scorched earth and ozone, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of distant ash. The sky above was a churning, bruised canvas of slate and smoke, crackling with energy that never released its fury fully—only hints like whispers. The mountains did not merely loom—they loathed. There was something in the silence that smothered sound, a weight that pressed into the chest and curled cold fingers around the heart. Every stone seemed placed with purpose, like pieces of a vast monume
Chapter 015 – Serpent's Path
The serpent’s tunnel narrowed into a throat of stone, the walls pressing close like clenched jaws. The air grew blistering hot, thick with the stench of sulfur and scorched minerals, each breath clawing at Zarek’s lungs. Smoke clung to the rock like damp cobwebs, curling in slow, choking tendrils. He pressed forward, each step a battle against the heat that wrapped around him like a living thing. The walls pulsed with a dull, ominous glow—veins of magma threading through the stone like arteries, casting flickering shadows that danced like phantoms.It was as if he were walking deeper into the belly of a beast. The mountain breathed—a slow, rumbling exhale that vibrated beneath his boots. It growled in its depths, a constant, guttural sound that echoed through the tunnel, broken only by the sharp hiss of escaping steam. Zarek wiped the sweat from his brow, though it did little good; his skin was already slick, his armor burning hot against his back.Then he heard it.Not the groan of s
Chapter 016 – The Burning Battle
The world had become fire.Stone melted into rivers of magma around him; the air itself seemed to burn, each breath like swallowing coals. The sky had turned the color of blood and brass, ash swirling like dark snow in the poisoned wind. Trees were no more than blackened skeletons of their former selves, their charred branches clawing at the smoke-thick sky. The Ulmfang Mountains, once majestic with their snowy peaks and proud ridges, now split open like wounded beasts, their innards spilling fire and stone into the dying earth below. The screams of the land echoed through the chasms, a chorus of elemental agony.Zarek stood trembling at the edge of a shattered cliff, the crumbling stone beneath his feet radiating with unbearable heat. His body ached from the toll of channeling forces no mortal was meant to wield; his chest heaved with each ragged breath, sweat and soot streaking down his face in grimy rivers. His hands, raw and blistered, trembled violently, still glowing with the
Chapter 017 – The Firelord’s Warning
The beast snarled and lunged forward, driven by either fear or defiance. Its claws carved gashes into the ground as it hurled itself toward Zarek — but the moment it crossed the threshold of that infernal maelstrom, the explosion came.A wave of searing light and heat roared outward in all directions — a sunborn blast that swallowed man and beast alike. The ground split. The heavens trembled. The mountain itself groaned, as if unsure whether to collapse or burn with them.Then — silence.Ash rained down gently, like snow falling in a dead world.When the light finally faded, Zarek stood alone in the center of a scorched wasteland. All around him, the land had melted into glowing stone, still pulsing with afterheat. Cracks spidered across the ground, glowing like veins of fire beneath glass. His body trembled, his chest rising and falling in jagged, shallow gasps. His clothes hung in tatters, half-burned and still smoldering. His skin bore the markings of flame — his arms streaked with
Chapter 018 – A Candle in the Storm
Consciousness returned to Zarek not as a gentle dawn, but as a rude shove into a world of dull, persistent ache. The memory of fire was a brand on his soul, but the reality was the coarse, scratchy wool of a blanket against his raw skin. He lay on a low, hard pallet, the thin mattress stuffed with what felt like straw and dried herbs that released a faint, bitter scent with his every movement.He was in a single room, a hut so small and sparse it felt more like a prison cell carved from wood and stubbornness. The walls were woven from dark, aged wattle and daub, cracked in places, allowing thin blades of searing morning light to cut through the dimness. The air was thick with the smell of dust, dried sage, and the faint, ever-present tang of ozone and ash that seemed to follow Aeltharion. The floor was packed earth, worn smooth and hard by generations of feet. A single, small, shuttered window was the only other feature, aside from a rough-hewn wooden door. There was no decoration, no
Chapter 019 – The Pit
The trapdoor slammed shut above him with a final, resonant thud that echoed like the tolling of a crypt-seal, reverberating down the narrow shaft and into the hollow space below. In an instant, Zarek was plunged into a darkness so complete it became a weight on his chest, pressing down with a suffocating force.It wasn't merely the absence of light—it was a living, suffocating blackness, thick and absolute, like being swallowed whole by the mountain itself. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes flailed for orientation. Nothing. Not even the hint of motion or form. The silence was cavernous, oppressive, alive with the suggestion of unseen things watching, waiting.He did not move at first.m, His body had gone taut, held in place by primal instinct, every nerve ending aflame with the memory of what he had just escaped above—the seething mass of ants, their obsidian shells clicking, biting, swarming. But here, down below, there was no sound. No skittering.Only his own breath, raw
Chapter 020 – The Eye in the Stone
He lifted his eyes, half in search of distraction, half in rebellion against the encroaching dread, and stared upward into the dome above him.And what he saw made his breath catch.The patterns etched into the ceiling were far more elaborate than he had realized. Now, with his vision accustomed to the strange phosphorescent glow, he could see how they danced and twisted—not randomly, but with terrifying precision. Spirals of sigils, concentric rings of symbols older than language, drew the eye inward. They converged, all of them, toward a single point at the dome’s highest curve—directly above where he now sat.The feeling was unmistakable. It was like sitting at the bottom of a great, stone eye.Zarek swallowed hard, the dryness in his throat almost painful. He didn’t know whether to feel watched or judged or both. Something about the design pulled at the mind, bent thought into unnatural spirals. Were these the glyphs of an ancient priesthood? A forgotten sect? Aeltharion’s own cre