Chaos Energy and Chaotical Cores
The young man knew the content of the nameless martial technique well. In fact, the book contained an ancient art dating back to an era now lost.
It allowed the cultivator to change the shape of the metallic parts of the objects at will for a variable period while maintaining its Chaos Runes and material qualities.
As of this writing, even the most legendary materials would have been defenseless if this technique had been applied.
The method was not the easiest to apply, especially for Atlas, who had just come into contact with Chaos Energy. Still, by following the detailed instructions, the power within his body operated smoothly.
Like any method, the operation required the consumption of Chaos Energy. However, instead of being instantaneous like so many others, the consumption took place gradually.
A glance was enough for him to memorize the correct procedure to keep the technique active, and as soon as he finished, he left the book to one side and quickly grabbed his faithful companion.
After a brief moment, Atlas performed the same procedure explained in the book, and soon, the power was concentrated in the palm of his hand.
The metal part of the pickaxe changed color from dull black to shining gold, and as a result, the shape changed, following Atlas's imagination.
When the process was finished, the golden glow faded, and the upper part of the weapon was no longer shaped like a pickaxe but like a battle axe, with the blade at the front and a long sharp point on the back.
"Wonderful! To be able to change the shape of a weapon to my liking is sensational." Atlas exulted in wonder and then executed a few combat styles, just as his grandfather had taught him.
The Chaos Energy flowing through his body slowly adapted every part of him to the new power. As a result, the movements were much smoother and faster compared to the past.
With frightening precision, the young man repeatedly sank the blade into the air, striking the same spot. Atlas was executing to perfection one of the many battle techniques learned from his grandfather, and the result was better than he thought.
More than ten minutes passed, and finally, the young man felt a sense of weariness.
"So that's my limit..."
Keeping the technique active all this time eventually exhausted the Chaos Energy reserves contained in the Chaotical Core.
It might have seemed like a small amount of time, but it was an outstanding achievement for a novice Primordial Chaos Realm warrior. The main reason he was able to last so long was clearly because of his new core.
There were infinite versions of the Chaotical Core in the universe. The first and most basic was the Devoid Chaotical Core, which allowed every living being to come into contact with the Chaos Energy. Unfortunately, they were the crudest form and were inevitably impure, with some imperfections. Only with luck and enough resources was it possible to change the quality of those cores.
Then there were the Luminescent Chaotical Cores, which were of significantly higher quality than the previous and allowed the possessor to gain incredible benefits since birth, such as speed of progression and almost nonexistent growth limits.
All this was possible due to the presence of milder impurities.
The last magical core of the Mortal category was the Flawless Chaotical Core, which allowed the owner to accede power even from elemental energy, such as fire, water, wind, earth, and lightning. There were other more archaic powers, such as light, darkness, time, space, and different types, but the chances of encountering them were scarce.
These three cores were categorized as Mortal Chaotical Cores and were among the most common.
In addition to these three, Divine Chaotical Cores were a far rarer and more powerful category. They, in fact, were already born with elemental affinities. Some examples were the Burning Cores or Stormy Cores, which could absorb and harness the elements of fire and wind, respectively, at a much deeper level than the Mortal Chaotical Cores of Flawless degree.
Those who were so lucky to get one of these rarest cores were defined as blessed, which is precisely why they were categorized in such a way.
The universe and even the world of Oblivion extended so far that knowledge of the world was not absolute. In fact, several legends featured evil heroes and tyrants with even more abstruse and enigmatic Chaotical Cores.
Unfortunately, those were only ancient stories, and the holders of those cores had long since been forgotten or concealed from the eyes of ordinary mortals.
Atlas wasn't sure about his assumptions, yet for the time being, he decided to categorize his unique core, called the Endless Abyssal Crystal by Nihilir, of Divine grade. After all, Nihilir had told him that he could connect deeply with the elemental power of the earth.
This had been one of the many precious gifts from Nihilir. A gift that had completely changed his life.
As soon as the test session was over, Atlas started perceiving the changes inside his body.
The power reserve had reached a critical level, and the body, in response to the desperate need for energy, had begun to copiously absorb Chaos Energy from the world.
It was a fascinating process, and since it was the first time he had experienced such a thing, the young man concentrated utterly.
He could feel a slight but pleasant sensation all along his body. It was as if the skin had turned into a kind of cloth that very slowly was being soaked by a warm liquid.
But it did not end there. In fact, that numbness began to enter the young man's body and saturate his veins with the purest energy.
In a few minutes, Atlas watched as the energy proceeded from the world to the core, slowly passing through the veins teeming with blood.
"What a great feeling... the process is slow, but it is more than normal since I don't have any suitable Martial Cultivation Manual. As soon as I get home, I'll have to rummage through the library... If I'm not mistaken, some archaic methods should be hidden between those old walls."
The young man had just obtained his new power, so like any living being, he was still in his primary stage.
Atlas could be compared to a Primordial Chaos Realm warrior at the initial stage.
"Great... I can't wait to smash some monster's skull with Astra... HAHAHA..." Atlas stared with satisfaction at the pick axe until an unhealthy idea formed in his mind.
"Well... I could break down the door with my new weapon..." Atlas stared at the wooden door for a while, yet upon reflection a little more, he changed his mind: "No... I can't. They treated me so well. If I smash their door, I would be such an asshole."
The room was small, and there was nothing else besides a bed and some chairs, so Atlas continued to observe the outside world through the window, bored out of his mind.
"Bloody hell... it really looks like a damn cell. Good lord..."
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DING! DING! DING!
DING! DING! DING!
By mid-afternoon, the city of the Inflamed Chalice bells began to ring repeatedly.
But they were not ringing to warn of an impending enemy attack or a horde of ravenous chaotical beasts.
No... the bells were ringing joyfully, for the time had come to execute the cruel band leaders of the mountain bandits.
Indeed, the event was not one for which it would be ideal to rejoice, but strangely enough, the town was incredibly excited and elated.
It had been since morning that the citizens had begun to decorate every corner of the city with lavish decorations, and it was all due to the poor, unfortunate young man who had been abused by the bandits, the young man famous in every inn, store, and association in the city, Atlas.
The townspeople were undoubtedly happy, especially the merchants who often passed through the roads assaulted by those barbarians, but the main subject was despairing in his room.
His reputation was ruined because of a stupid misunderstanding.
How could he show his face around?
How could he endure people's pitying looks?
Indeed, Atlas found it very difficult, and he wanted to run like hell from this town of deranged lunatics, but fate was making life very difficult for him for some ridiculous reason.
In fact, Uncle Beard and Elisabeth were literally dragging him toward the square.
An action that made Atlas even more furious.
He even asked himself a fairly obvious question.
Who was the real doomed one in this freaking mess? Him or the bandits?
"Uncle Beard... no need for all this. Listen to me, I have to go home! I can't... I can't..." Atlas tried hard to free himself from the clutches of the two, but he could not.
The disparity in strength was too great, and his pleading attempts only worsened the situation.
"Ouch... Atlas, you don't have to worry. Calm down. Those bastards will die. In fact, I'm sure it will do you good to see them die with your own eyes..." Elizabeth sighed in sorrow, tugging Atlas toward the square.
"I don't want to do it?" Atlas shouted at the top of his voice, drawing much attention from the crowd.
"Those bastards deserve to die..."
"Yeah... what animals!"
"Poor guy. He will be marked for life by this trauma..."
"We must pray for him. Maybe we should call the Holy Lucent Divine Sect's priests to purify his demon-troubled soul."
"You're right... let's go! Let's go now!"
People in the vicinity began to talk, and some were so concerned about Atlas's fate that they tried hard to save his impure soul.
Of course, Atlas did not take their "thoughtfulness" very well and shouted, exasperated: "Fools! Fools! You're all crazy!"
Unfortunately, his actions were inevitably mistaken for panic.
Hearing all the noise, one of the guards standing under the gallows quickly approached them and asked angrily: "What is going on? It is strictly forbidden to disturb the..."
Arriving at a certain point in his speech, the guard immediately changed his attitude and shouted: "Hey... Are you the young man being abused by the bandits?"
Hearing the comrade's screams, another guard approached the group to check, but when he saw the face of the young man held by the pair, he scolded his comrade: "Claus! Are you stupid? Don't say that, poor guy..."
Claus quickly realized his mistake and demanded, this time in a more polite tone: "Hmm...cough...cough...Are you the famous Atlas?"
Atlas looked furiously at the guard and pointed to a homeless man hiding in an alley: "Are you crazy?! That's him! He's Atlas!"
But his trick did not work, and the guards replaced the pair, dragging the young man to the gallows.
"You sons of bitches! Set me free! I don't want to!"
Atlas knew it was futile, but he still tried to free himself.
Unfortunately, his current situation had worsened as the guards, positioned on either side, lifted him up, preventing his feet from putting up a futile resistance.
"NO!"