Chapter 4:The Unforseen Threads Of The Past

His fingers twitched. His instincts told him to chase after the man—to demand answers, to uncover the truth behind his cryptic warning. But the forest had already swallowed the figure whole, and something in Lorien's gut told him that searching blindly would be pointless.

Instead, he focused on what mattered.

If there were others searching for the chaos, then who were they? And more importantly—how much did they already know?

[New Objective Updated: Seek the One Who Remembers.]

[Hidden Paths Unlocked. The Sovereign's trials have awakened unseen forces. Be prepared.]

Lorien exhaled sharply. Unseen forces? The system wasn't usually this vague.

But he had learned something important today.

He wasn't just being tested.

He was being watched.

His hand clenched involuntarily. If the gods truly feared chaos, and if there were others seeking its power, then it was only a matter of time before his existence attracted their attention.

And when that moment came—

Lorien had no intention of being unprepared.

---

The journey back to the nearest village was uneventful, but the weight in his chest remained.

By the time he arrived, night had fully settled over the land. The village was a small settlement nestled in the foothills, its wooden homes clustered close together, lanterns casting flickering golden light against the cobbled streets.

Lorien pulled his hood lower. He wasn't hiding, but drawing attention to himself wouldn't be wise. Not after everything that had happened.

The inn was quiet when he entered. A few travelers nursed drinks by the hearth, their conversations hushed. The innkeeper barely spared him a glance, merely nodding toward the staircase.

Lorien took the hint. He needed rest.

But as he reached the door to his rented room—

He felt it.

A presence.

Faint, almost imperceptible, yet unmistakable.

Someone was watching him.

Lorien didn't react immediately. He shifted his posture, appearing relaxed as he reached for the door handle. His senses stretched outward, trying to pinpoint the source.

There.

A fleeting shift of movement just beyond the staircase.

Lorien turned—fast. His eyes locked onto the figure standing in the dim corridor.

It was her.

The silver-haired woman from the ruins.

His breath caught for a fraction of a second. Up close, she was even more striking—her violet eyes unreadable, her expression calm but unreadably tense.

"You," Lorien said quietly.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she studied him with a gaze that seemed to pierce through his very existence. Then—

"You left the ruins faster than I expected."

Lorien narrowed his eyes. "You expected me?"

A small, almost imperceptible shift in her posture. Not quite surprise. More like calculated curiosity.

"You carry something you don't yet understand," she said at last. "Something far older than you."

Lorien's pulse quickened. "And what do you know about it?"

For the first time, her expression shifted.

A flicker of hesitation. A sliver of something almost like regret.

Then, softly—

"More than you'd like to hear."

A tense silence stretched between them.

Lorien could feel it—the weight of something unsaid.

But before he could press further, she turned.

"I have no interest in fighting you," she murmured. "Not yet."

And then, without another word, she vanished down the corridor.

Lorien stood there, his mind racing.

Not yet.

His grip tightened.

Who was she?

Lorien stood motionless long after the silver-haired woman had disappeared.

Her presence still lingered in the corridor, like a whisper in the dark.

"You carry something you don't yet understand. Something far older than you."

Her words gnawed at him.

How much did she know? And why did she hesitate?

Lorien exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He needed answers, but standing in the hallway wouldn't give him any. For now, he needed rest.

He stepped into his room, locking the door behind him. The space was small but clean—wooden walls, a narrow bed, a single lantern flickering on the table.

He sat down, leaning back against the headboard. The weight of the day settled into his bones. His body ached, exhaustion clawing at him, but his mind refused to rest.

Then—

[System Notification:]

[Your first trial has concluded.]

[New Data Imprinted.]

Lorien inhaled sharply as his vision blurred.

The world around him shifted.

And suddenly, he was no longer in the room.

---

A memory.

But not his.

The sky above was a swirling abyss, a deep blackness untouched by stars. A battlefield stretched endlessly below, littered with bodies—warriors, demons, even celestial beings. The ground was cracked, pulsing with veins of molten chaos.

And at the center of it all—

A man stood alone.

His figure was wreathed in darkness, his very presence distorting reality around him. His armor was unlike anything Lorien had ever seen—woven from something alive, shifting and writhing like liquid shadow.

His eyes burned with a lightless void.

He was power incarnate.

And he was losing.

Lorien felt it—his exhaustion, his fury, the sheer weight of the battle pressing against him like an unrelenting tide.

Surrounding him were figures of impossible grandeur—gods, their divine auras shimmering like celestial storms. Their eyes were filled with cold determination.

"It ends here, Sovereign of Chaos."

A voice rang out—neither mortal nor divine, but something beyond.

The man in the shifting armor exhaled, his breath coming ragged. Blood dripped from his fingers. His power flickered, unstable.

Yet—he laughed.

A hollow, weary sound.

"You think you can erase me?" His voice was calm, but beneath it lay an unfathomable storm. "You think existence will let you?"

The gods did not answer.

Instead, they raised their weapons.

And then—

Light erupted.

A force beyond comprehension crashed down, shattering space itself.

Lorien felt the pain—felt the Sovereign's very essence being torn apart.

But before the memory could reach its conclusion—

[WARNING: Memory unstable. Fragmentation detected.]

[Trial Lock Engaged.]

Lorien gasped as the vision shattered, his mind snapping back to reality.

He was back in his room.

His breathing was ragged, sweat dripping down his temple. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists.

He had seen it.

The fall of the last Sovereign.

The gods had destroyed him.

But if they had erased the chaos power from the world—

Then why did Lorien still exist?

---

He sat in silence for a long time.

Outside, the village was quiet. The distant murmur of wind against the wooden walls was the only sound.

Lorien closed his eyes.

The gods had feared the last Sovereign enough to annihilate him completely.

And now, he carried that same power.

The stranger's warning echoed in his mind.

"The gods will not ignore you much longer."

He exhaled slowly.

No more waiting. No more reacting.

He needed to be ready.

Because if the gods came for him—

He refused to fall as the last Sovereign had.

---End Of Chapter 4---