Scroll of Chaos and the Secrets of Creation

Chapter 21: Scroll of Chaos and the Secrets of Creation

The aftermath of the library scene was thick with unspoken tension. The sheer display of power by Xiner, Aarav, and Sanjeev had left an indelible mark on everyone present. The disciples whispered among themselves, their voices filled with awe and a hint of trepidation. The elders, their faces etched with a mixture of wonder and concern, exchanged knowing glances. They knew that they had witnessed the arrival of a generation that would redefine the very limits of cultivation.

As the new disciples began to disperse, each clutching their chosen techniques, Sanjeev lingered near the platform. His gaze was drawn to a faint, ethereal glow emanating from a far corner of the library. It was a soft, pulsating purple light, unlike anything he had ever seen before. It seemed to beckon him, to resonate with a hidden part of his being.

Intrigued, Sanjeev walked towards the light, his footsteps echoing in the vast hall. As he approached, the purple glow intensified, and he could see that it originated from a scroll. The scroll was made of an unknown material, its surface smooth and cool to the touch, and it pulsed with the same otherworldly energy that filled the light.

As Sanjeev reached out to touch the scroll, it detached itself from the shelf and floated towards him, as if guided by an unseen hand. The purple light enveloped the scroll, and it drifted gently into Sanjeev's grasp. He felt a strange connection to it, an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if this scroll was meant for him.

The elder guardian of the library, who had been observing Sanjeev from a distance, approached him with a weary sigh. He had seen countless disciples choose their techniques over the centuries, but he had never witnessed anything like this.

"That scroll," the elder said, his voice tinged with a hint of pity, "is a waste, young man. It is a relic of a bygone era, its text indecipherable to anyone in this world. You could buy such a scroll for a mere ten gold coins in any antique shop."

He gestured towards the other shelves, laden with powerful techniques. "The library has recognized your extraordinary talent. You may choose any other technique you desire, any of the methods that have guided our sect's greatest cultivators. Do not waste your potential on a worthless scroll."

Sanjeev held the scroll tightly, his mind racing. He couldn't explain it, but he felt an irresistible pull towards this seemingly useless artifact. It was as if the scroll was calling out to him, promising secrets that lay beyond the comprehension of this world.

He looked at the elder, his eyes filled with a quiet determination. "I understand, Elder," he said, his voice firm and unwavering. "But I feel a connection to this scroll. I wish to keep it."

The elder sighed again, shaking his head in resignation. "Very well," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You may keep the scroll. It is of no use to anyone, so it will not be missed. But do not neglect your cultivation. The path ahead is long and arduous, and you will need powerful techniques to succeed."

He gestured towards the shelves. "Choose wisely, young man. The library has deemed you worthy of its greatest treasures."

Sanjeev nodded, his gaze sweeping across the vast collection of techniques. He saw scrolls bound in gold, silver, and white, their titles promising unimaginable power. He knew that he could choose any of them, techniques that could propel him to the pinnacle of cultivation.

But his heart was set. He had already found the technique he was meant to have.

"I will take this one," Sanjeev said, his voice resolute. He reached out and took a scroll bound in white, its title shimmering with an ethereal light. It was a God-level technique, one of the most powerful methods in the entire sect, a technique passed down through generations of its most esteemed cultivators.

The elder nodded, his expression softening slightly. He recognized the scroll, knew its immense value. He was relieved that, despite his inexplicable attachment to the worthless scroll, Sanjeev had also chosen a technique worthy of his talent.

As the other disciples filed out of the library, the elder guardian watched Sanjeev with a curious smile playing on his lips. He shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. There was something about this young man, something extraordinary, something that defied explanation.

As Sanjeev turned to leave, the elder discreetly sent a message using a secret communication technique known only to a select few within the sect. The message was brief but significant, containing a description of Sanjeev's actions and the elder's own observations. It was a message that would set in motion a chain of events that would have far-reaching consequences.

Sanjeev and Xiner walked back to their room, their hands clasped together. Xiner, who had chosen two Heaven-level techniques, was excited to begin her cultivation journey. She was eager to share her discoveries with Sanjeev, to compare their chosen paths.

"That was incredible," Xiner exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The library... it felt alive! It was as if it could see into our very souls."

Sanjeev nodded, his mind still preoccupied with the mysterious scroll. "It was," he agreed. "I've never experienced anything like it."

As they reached their room, Sanjeev couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. He carefully unrolled the purple scroll, his heart pounding with anticipation. The moment he laid his eyes on the text, he froze.

The language was Sanskrit.

Sanjeev's breath hitched in his throat. Sanskrit! The language of his past life, the language of the ancient texts he had read in his grandfather's(OF HIS WORLD NOT OF NEW WORLD ) library, the language of the gods themselves. What was Sanskrit doing on a scroll in this world?

He recognized some of the symbols, the elegant curves and flowing lines that had once been so familiar to him. With a trembling hand, he began to decipher the words, his mind racing as the meaning slowly began to unfold.

The title of the technique was "Creation of Technique."

Sanjeev's eyes widened in astonishment. A technique about creating techniques? He had never heard of such a thing. Cultivation techniques were passed down through generations, refined and perfected over centuries. The idea that someone could create their own technique was revolutionary.

But what came next was even more shocking.

Beneath the title, there was a level designation: "Chaos."

Chaos? Sanjeev had never encountered such a level before. In his past life, and in the knowledge he had gained in this world, he knew of six levels of techniques: Earth, King, Emperor, Space, Heaven, and God. The Creation level was considered the pinnacle, the ultimate expression of power.

But Chaos? What lay beyond even Creation?

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Sanjeev began to read the scroll, his mind absorbing the ancient words. As he read, the letters on the scroll seemed to detach themselves from the surface and float into his mind, imprinting themselves onto his very consciousness.

Suddenly, Sanjeev's vision blurred, and he found himself in another realm, a place that existed outside the boundaries of space and time. He stood in a vast, empty expanse, the sky a swirling vortex of colors that defied description.

Before him stood a figure, a being of pure energy, radiating a power that dwarfed even the mightiest cultivators. The being regarded Sanjeev with eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

"You can understand this text," the being said, its voice echoing through the boundless realm. "That means you, too, are from another world."

Sanjeev was speechless, his mind reeling from the revelations. He was not alone. There was someone else, someone who understood his origins, someone who knew the truth about his past life.

The being smiled, a gesture that filled Sanjeev with a sense of both awe and terror. "I am the creator of this technique," the being said. "I have transcended the limits of Creation, and I have glimpsed the true nature of existence."

Sanjeev's heart pounded in his chest. He was in the presence of a being who had reached a level of power beyond his wildest imagination, a being who had created a technique that surpassed even God-level methods.

"This technique," the being continued, "will teach you the fundamental principles of all techniques. It will show you how to manipulate energy, how to control the elements, how to bend the very fabric of reality. And it will give you the power to create your own techniques, techniques tailored to your unique abilities and your specific needs."

The being paused, its gaze intensifying. "The level of the techniques you create will depend entirely on your own capabilities. There are no limits, no restrictions. You can create techniques of any level, from the most basic to the most profound. The power is within you."

As the being spoke, Sanjeev felt a surge of energy within him, a feeling of boundless potential. He knew, instinctively, that this technique was not just a method of cultivation; it was a key, a key to unlocking the secrets of the universe, a key to becoming a true creator.

Suddenly, the being dissolved into particles of light, the energy flowing towards Sanjeev, merging with his consciousness. Sanjeev felt a jolt of power surge through him, and his mind expanded, his understanding of the world deepening.

His consciousness snapped back into his physical body, and he gasped, his eyes flying open. He lay on his bed, his body trembling with residual energy. He felt different, stronger, more connected to the world around him.

He had broken through to the seventh level of his realm.

Sanjeev knew that he was on the verge of another breakthrough, that he could advance to the next realm at any moment. The power of the Chaos-level technique, the knowledge he had gained from the being, had propelled him forward, accelerating his cultivation at an unprecedented rate.