Time seemed to slow in that suffocating stone chamber.
As massive boulders rained down from the fracturing ceiling like deadly hail, Lyra's silver eyes widened in shock. The young assassin, who never lost her cool, realized that the magical traps she had been trying to dismantle weren't just protecting the core from thieves—they were seals suppressing its fury. And now, thanks to the explosion caused by Faren's battle above, those seals were broken.
"Damn it!" Lyra cursed. Ignoring the falling rocks, she lunged toward the stone pedestal. Pulling a metal gauntlet etched with mana-containment runes from her cloak, she reached out to snatch the Azura Core.
But the core had a will of its own.
The moment Lyra's fingers neared it, the core unleashed a terrifying shockwave of pure silver lightning. Lyra screamed as she was violently hurled across the room, slamming into the stone wall and crashing to the ground, gasping for air as her cloak smoked from the burn.
In that instant, the core broke free from its pedestal. It hovered in the air, pulsing with a blinding light, like the eye of a living dragon searching for a host. In a room overflowing with chaotic, conflicting mana, it found only one body that represented a pure, unsullied vessel—a body completely devoid of a single drop of magic. An "Empty" body... Kael's body.
"No... stay back!" Kael yelled, raising his heavy hammer like a shield as he tried to retreat. But the core's speed defied human reaction.
The Azura Core darted forward like a blazing meteor, phasing right through the solid steel hammer as if it were made of parchment, and slammed directly into the center of Kael's chest.
There was no physical wound, and not a single drop of blood was spilled. The core phased through his flesh and plunged straight into his very soul.
Then... the agony began.
Kael fell to his knees, his hammer slipping from his grasp to clatter against the stone floor. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out; instead, a blinding torrent of azure and silver light poured from his throat.
It felt as if someone had poured molten iron directly into his veins. His body, which had never known mana, was undergoing a brutal process of being torn apart and forcibly rebuilt. Brand new magical circuits were being violently carved into his flesh and bone. The energy of the storm, wild and untamed, was trying to rip him apart from the inside out.
The mana crashed through him like thousands of hammers striking a single anvil all at once. He remembered his master's words from mere moments ago: "You just haven't found the anvil that will forge your soul yet." He was the anvil, and this legendary core was the hammer testing the absolute limits of his endurance.
Kael's body levitated slightly off the ground, his back arched fiercely, his eyes rolling back to pure white. Sparks of silver lightning began to dance across his skin, leaving behind scorch marks that branched out like lightning strikes.
"Impossible..." Lyra whispered, wiping blood from her busted lip. Her eyes were locked on the sight in sheer disbelief. "He's an 'Empty'... His body doesn't have mana channels. The core will tear him apart and detonate, wiping out the entire mountain!"
Leaning on her dagger, Lyra forced herself up. She decided the best option was to decapitate this young blacksmith before he exploded. But before she could take a single step, the rest of the vault's ceiling caved in completely.
Massive blocks of stone crashed down, and with them, a familiar figure slammed hard onto the stone floor.
It was Faren.
The old man was covered in blood from head to toe. His leather armor was shredded, and his broadsword was snapped in half. Yet, he was still breathing, his azure aura fighting fiercely to stay ignited.
Faren struggled to look toward the center of the room, where Kael floated, engulfed in a miniature hurricane of lightning and razor-sharp winds. The exhausted old man's eyes widened.
"It... merged with him..." Faren coughed up blood, but despite the agonizing pain, a manic smile tinged with desperation spread across his face. "That damned core... it chose him."
"You foolish old man!" Lyra yelled, pressing her dagger to Faren's throat in the blink of an eye. "What did you bring down here?! That is a Mythic-tier Storm Dragon Core! If I don't kill him right now, he'll turn into a bomb that will wipe this village off the map!"
"If you kill him... the Cult gets it..." Faren's breathing was ragged as his eyes met the assassin's. "You're here to steal it... aren't you? The Silver Witch is looking for her legacy."
Lyra's features hardened at the mention of her title.
Before she could respond, another blast echoed from above. The shadows of Eclipse Cult fighters began dropping through the shattered ceiling, surrounding the chamber. Their leader, a massive man wearing a half-metal skull mask, descended slowly, his eyes glowing with dark magic.
"Game over, Guardian," the leader hissed, his voice like sliding venom, before his eyes locked onto Kael, who was still writhing mid-air within the miniature storm. "How wonderful... The vessel did the hard work for us. Sever the boy's limbs and bring him to me alive. Kill the old man and the girl."
"I don't think so," Faren spat blood onto the floor.
The old man slammed his remaining hand onto a stone tile beside him. Suddenly, the stone wall behind the pedestal slid open, revealing a deep, pitch-black tunnel emitting currents of freezing air.
At that exact moment, Kael's body reached its absolute limit of absorption. The boy crashed heavily onto his hands and knees, gasping for air as if his lungs were on fire. The skin around his chest pulsed with faint silver light from beneath his torn shirt. He had survived the initial merge, but the power inside him was volatile, ready to explode at any second.
Kael slowly lifted his head. His eyes were no longer their usual silver; they now burned with a terrifying, piercing azure glow, sparking with microscopic arcs of electricity.
As two of the Cult assassins charged toward him, Kael let out a primal roar of sheer fury and subconsciously thrust out his hand.
BZZZZZT!
A violent arc of dense silver lightning erupted from his palm. It struck the two assassins with devastating force, reducing them to a pile of charred ash and molten armor in a fraction of a second.
Everyone in the room froze. Even the Cult leader took a step back, stunned by the raw, destructive power wielded by a village boy.
"Lyra!" Faren roared, struggling to his feet. "Grab the boy and get in the tunnel! If you ever want that core, he is your only ticket now!"
Lyra looked at the incinerated assassins, then at Kael, who was beginning to lose consciousness again due to the lethal exhaustion of unleashing that strike. The arrogant assassin realized the old man was right. Her legacy was locked inside this stupid blacksmith, and the only way to retrieve it was to keep him alive... for now.
Cursing under her breath, Lyra dashed toward Kael, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him toward the secret tunnel. Faren followed closely, his steps heavy, leaning on his broken sword.
"Don't let them escape!" the Cult leader bellowed.
The moment they crossed the tunnel's threshold, Faren cast a collapse spell behind them. The vault walls violently fractured, and the remnants of the secret temple caved in, burying the entrance entirely under tons of crushing rock, temporarily blocking the Cult's path.
In the pitch-black darkness of the tunnel, Kael was dragged across the cold floor, his consciousness fading away piece by piece. The last thing he heard before plummeting into the abyss of sleep was his own heartbeat... a heartbeat that was no longer human, but thrummed with the rhythm of a thunderstorm waiting for the perfect moment to devour the world.