Fate Bearer : Burden of Lineages

The cave remained silent.

Not the kind of silence experienced out in the wild, leaves rustling, faraway howls. But a deliberate quiet, as though the world itself held its breath. Vaen perched cross-legged, his robes worn at the edges, his eyes closed. Fine strands of Tenebris Energy wafted around him like moonlit mist, congealing towards his Umbral Repository for in measured rhythm.

He'd been dwelling in this cave for a year now, chiseled into the face of the nearby mountain himself using nothing but his sword and determination. Piece of cake, the old man had said. A part of "training."

"Hmph," Vaen growled. "Punishment is what it is.".

At first, he believed it was all for nothing. His Tenebris Energy was stronger, faster, more efficient than Origin Qi. Why waste time on slow, dull cultivation when he already possessed a superior method?

But, now he understood. It wasn't about power. It was about control.

Tenebris could destroy anything at Rank 1. But when he tried to apply Origin Qi with the same combat ability, it slipped away like water through fingers. The problem is that he couldn't use Tenebris Energy carelessly and had to learn how to save it from the beginning.

Until then.

With his new Origin Qi foundation established, he was able to fine-tune Tenebris Energy even further. Smooth it out. Before, he could only battle at the half-step Golden Core level with full power. Today? With even a small amount of Tenebris, he can transform Tenebris Energy into Origin Qi which rivals that of a full Stage 1 Golden Core Realm master.

The increase was noticeable.

Every movement is crisper, every gasp louder, every reflex more reliable.

He stood, flexing his fingers, and glanced toward the old man's cave—just across the narrow ravine that separated the twin peaks.

Time to ask.

---

The old man was seated in his usual spot—on a massive flat stone with a brewing kettle floating by his side. Steam hissed in the cool mountain air.

"You're here," the old man said, not turning around. "I thought you'd be sulking for another week."

"I need answers," Vaen replied.

"Hah! A cultivator in search of answers? Strange times." The old man motioned with his hand to the stone bench beside him. "Sit."

Vaen sat in silence. He'd been familiar with the strange mood of the old man for a long time now.

"Master," he said, "what did you mean by telling me I was a Fate Bearer of all races?"

The old man had no words initially. He rather filled two cups with tea and handed one of them to Vaen.

"Drink. Might be the last thing that comforts you."

Vaen raised an eyebrow but took a sip.

And then the old man started. "This world. and all the others extending across the great seas of the emptiness. they're all governed by boundaries. Animals, spirits, and humans don't matter. They can only increase by consuming or appropriating the strength of others."

Vaen heard him in silence.

"But humans," the old man continued, "we were never meant to be such. We didn't need origin beasts' lineage to develop. Our own bloodline is also one of the strongest. But it's gone. Forgotten. We now honor the same things that once feared us."

"So. you're saying I carry that bloodline?"

The eyes of the old man narrowed. "No. Not exactly. You are not a beast, not a spirit, and definitely not normal. Your aura tastes foreign. Like something the heavens tried to reject but were not able to. This is the story of Fate Bearer. You don't have an identity yet. You are a prophecy. Someone will rise. He who will conquer. The race which could win over him will dominate the world for the next centuries to come."

Vaen's fist clenched a little. Tenebris Energy coursed through him, silent and unnoticed.

The old man narrowed his eyes. "I see something in you, boy. Something that even I do not know how to name. Not of hell. Not of the gods. Not of this land. And that makes you dangerous."

"But you are still teaching me," Vaen replied.

"I am," the old man inclined his head. "Cause you passed my test. You didn't rely on brawn. You used your brains. You used the correct path, not the shortest. And maybe. just maybe. human beings could learn from one like you."

The old man shook his head. "Listen,boy! It's a title. A curse. A sign. Only one race will be at the top of the cycle. The world won't permit it to be more than that. And you. you could be the anchor that decides who it will be."

"Human?" Vaen asked.

"I don't know," the old man answered grimly.

--- 

That evening, Vaen returned to his cave.

The stars overhead sparkled through the doorway, and the biting mountain wind was scented with a whiff of destiny. He toiled at it once more—the Limit Break Art. Version 4.1, he recalled to call it by. An aid to break the bloodline cultivation barrier, an ancient art forged only for humans.

It wouldn't do Vaen any good now. His path wasn't limited by bloodline. But it would do him some good when he finally reached Rank 4.

He had no notion when that might be. But he was closing in on it.

Bit by bit, control by control, truth by truth.

Until then, he would learn everything that this old man could instruct.

Then, he would carve his own legend.

Even if the heavens feared it.