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CHAPTER 260. The Chaos Mana Forge
The air burned. Heat shimmered like ghosts above rivers of molten light. The ground was black glass, cracked in places where crimson magma pulsed beneath the surface.Caster staggered to his feet, his skin glowing faintly gold under the reflection. Each breath felt heavy, as if the air itself weighed too much to carry.Eidric stood beside him, silent for once, the blue runes across his bones dimming in the thick heat. “We have reached the forge,” he said softly. “The heart of Skell’s decay.”Caster looked around. The landscape stretched endlessly, an inferno of molten rivers and jagged obsidian ridges. Sparks of violet lightning danced across the horizon. The sky above them was broken, veins of purple light splitting through layers of darkness.“So this is what the bottom of the world looks like,” Caster murmured.Eidric’s hollow eyes glowed faintly. “Not the bottom. The wound.”Caster crouched, brushing his fingers against a shard of glowing crystal embedded in the ground. It was t
CHAPTER 259. The Rift’s Betrayal
The silence after the explosion was almost holy. Only the faint hum of dying mana filled the ruined chamber.Caster stood slowly, dust and faint embers falling from his shoulders. His hands still glowed faintly gold, veins pulsing with light that refused to fade.He looked up. The rift was gone. Or so it seemed, then the air in front of him rippled. Like a reflection disturbed by a stone, it shimmered, faint, trembling, alive.Eidric’s hollow voice echoed through the dim chamber. “It’s still open.”Caster turned. The Archivist was standing amid the debris, one arm newly repaired from spare bone fragments, runes glowing faintly. “Barely,” Caster said. “But the path isn’t stable. It’s pulsing out of rhythm.”Eidric tilted his head. “You mean it’s trying to close?”“No.” Caster’s voice dropped. “It’s breathing.”The words hung in the air, then the shimmer expanded suddenly, the faint outline of the Blackthorn Path forming again. It looked thinner than before, a wound in reality, bleedin
CHAPTER 258. Reopening the Blackthorn Path
The spire was groaning. Not from wind or pressure, but from something deeper, like a heart beating too fast. The Skell Plane was unraveling.Ash fell upward instead of down. Rivers of light curved sideways. The ground beneath Caster and Eidric pulsed as if alive, splitting in long, glowing cracks.“The laws are bending,” Eidric said, voice echoing hollowly through the corridor. “The plane’s equilibrium is failing.”Caster pressed his palm to the wall. It felt warm, not with heat, but with memory. Whispers crawled through the surface like trapped voices. He could hear fragments of thoughts. Pleas. Laughter. Regret. “It’s starting,” he murmured. “The spirit’s warning was right. The Skell core is collapsing.”Eidric’s runes flickered weakly. “We have to leave. If the plane folds in on itself, even thought won’t survive.”Caster turned to him. “There’s only one way out.”The Archivist stiffened. “No.”“Yes,” Caster said firmly. “The Blackthorn Path.”Eidric’s voice deepened, full of drea
CHAPTER 257. The Spirit of Recognition
The silence that followed was not natural. It was the silence of a world holding its breath.Caster lay on the cold floor, still half-blinded from the explosion of light. The golden shard had stopped glowing. It rested near his hand, cracked down the center, smoke curling from its fractured surface. Eidric knelt beside him, runes flickering weakly. “Spellbound! Speak.”Caster’s breathing was shallow. He could still hear the echo of that voice, his father’s voice, but not quite human. Slowly, he pushed himself up. “He touched me.”Eidric tilted his skull. “Who?”“My father,” Caster whispered. “Or what’s left of him.”The Archivist’s voice darkened. “The echo?”Caster nodded slowly. His eyes were unfocused, haunted. “It called me Spellbound like it knew me, like it recognized the resonance in my mana.”Eidric’s runes flared with a cold light. “Be cautious. The Skell Plane knows your bloodline now. It will not forget the taste.”But Caster barely heard him. The shard pulsed faintly, a l
CHAPTER 256
The hall trembled long after the vault’s roar had faded. The air smelled faintly of dust and lightning. The stone beneath Caster’s boots still vibrated with the echo of power.He leaned against the cold wall, chest rising and falling. “That was too close.”Eidric stood beside him, runes flickering dimly across his bones. “The vault does not like to be disturbed. You took more than it wished to give.”Caster reached into his cloak and pulled out the golden shard. It pulsed faintly, as if alive. “Then it shouldn’t have left this behind.”The Archivist’s hollow eyes flickered with pale light. “That fragment carries your father’s last imprint. Handle it carefully. Memory can wound deeper than steel.”Caster’s fingers tightened around the shard. “He left this for a reason.”Eidric tilted his skull. “Perhaps. Or perhaps he meant for it never to be found.”But Caster wasn’t listening anymore. The shard was vibrating faintly in his hand. When he held it closer.Faint lines of light ran across
CHAPTER 255
The door to the Core Vault closed behind them with a deep, final thud. The sound rippled through the floor, echoing like a heartbeat inside the earth.Caster paused, eyes wide. The air felt thick, heavy, full of whispers. A faint golden mist drifted between thousands of crystal shards that floated weightlessly in the vast chamber. Each shard pulsed with a soft light, humming like faint memories trying to breathe. Eidric’s hollow voice echoed beside him. “Welcome to the Vault of Fossilized Thoughts. Every fragment here is a memory too heavy for time to carry.”Caster turned slowly in awe. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered. “And terrifying.”Eidric nodded. “Beauty and terror often live in the same breath, Spellbound. Don’t let the light fool you. Each crystal is a mind… a piece of someone who thought too deeply.”Caster reached out toward one shard. It glowed faint blue and vibrated softly, as if sensing him. “They’re alive?”“In a sense,” Eidric said. “They think, but without bodies. The
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