Chapter 13: Shadows Beyond the Void

The void around Erethon flickered with the embers of war.

Silence fell for the first time in weeks, broken only by the groaning of fractured citadels and the hum of drifting warships. Human fleets hovered like a steel canopy, their hulls scorched but standing firm. Victory banners ignited in spiritual flame across the command vessels, glowing symbols that pulsed with radiant energy—proof of triumph over the Galactic Council's strongest forward base.

Yet, Rael knew peace was an illusion.

He stood on the edge of Erethon's ruined core, its dark heart now a smoldering crater. The golden flames from his previous battle had not entirely vanished—they still danced along the walls, flickering with restrained wrath.

Behind him, Selene floated gently onto the fractured platform, her boots clicking softly on the scorched metal.

"You look like you just fought a god," she said, brushing ash from her shoulder.

Rael didn't turn. "It wasn't a god. But it was close."

She nodded, sensing the tension still woven through his aura. His Flame Soul had dimmed but not disappeared. It hovered quietly behind him, wings folded inward, like a predator resting after the hunt.

Kaen and Damon arrived next, stepping through a crackling teleport gate. Damon whistled, looking around the chamber. "You really brought this place down solo?"

Rael finally turned. "It wasn't about the structure. It was about the will behind it."

He gestured toward the scattered remains of the void general.

"Do you feel it?" Rael asked.

Kaen frowned. "What?"

"The space... it's bleeding."

Indeed, the very essence of spiritual space around the Erethon system trembled. Cultivators with sensitive perception could feel it like an itch under the skin—a wrongness spreading beyond what their senses could comprehend.

Vira's voice echoed through the command channel. "Rael, urgent. We're picking up anomalies beyond the system. Disturbances in void flow… and a signal."

"What kind of signal?" Selene asked.

"A spiritual distress call. But it's encoded in ancient Terran sigils—format predates our recorded history."

Everyone froze.

Even Rael.

Kaen's voice dropped. "You think… it's from one of the First Cultivator Legions?"

"Or worse," Damon said. "One of the Lost."

Rael's eyes narrowed.

"There's only one way to find out. Plot a course toward the anomaly," he said. "We move now."

---

Half a day later, aboard the Vermillion Spear

(Flagship of the Flameborn Fleet)

The human cultivator armada had reassembled and begun the journey toward the edge of the Erethon Nebula, following the strange spiritual distress signal. The deeper they moved into the nebula, the more the stars dimmed, hidden behind layers of corrupted spiritual fog.

Rael stood in the ship's observatory chamber, surrounded by three dozen other elite cultivators. They included generals, commanders, peak-stage Spiritual Kings, and even a single Spiritual Emperor—the reclusive Master Aelion, who had not spoken a word since boarding the ship.

Vira appeared through a projection orb. "We've reached the edge of the anomaly. Deploying scouts."

She waved her hand, and five Spirit-class scouts launched forward.

Everyone waited.

Seconds passed.

Then a scream.

It tore through the communication array—raw, unfiltered spiritual agony.

The projection orb shattered.

Everyone in the observatory went still.

A ripple of dark energy rushed through the nebula, slamming into the Vermillion Spear. Cultivators staggered, some coughing up blood.

Rael clenched his fists. "It's a trap."

"No," Master Aelion finally spoke, his voice like a whisper of wind. "It's a prison."

The ship's main screen lit up again, revealing a massive structure in the heart of the nebula.

A black sphere, dozens of kilometers wide, floated in the centre of a spiritual storm. Chains of light and darkness bound it in place, and strange runes glowed with both human and alien markings.

Rael's breath caught.

He recognised the central rune.

It was from the First Cycle of Earth's cultivation history—the era of the Prime Warden.

Kaen stepped forward. "Did we… seal something away here?"

Selene's expression turned grim. "Or someone."

The ship trembled again.

From the surface of the sphere, something stirred.

A pulse of pure killing intent surged outward, shaking space.

Rael drew his weapon.

"We're going down," he said.

Selene blinked. "Into that?"

"We need to know what was hidden," he said. "And why it's waking up now."

He turned toward the Flameborn unit.

"Prepare for entry."

As his soldiers bowed, a new chapter of war was about to begin—one buried by time, hidden by lies, and bound in chains forged by the first cultivators of Earth.

Rael could feel it deep in his bones.

This was not just a remnant.

It was a warning.

The descent began.

Rael's team gathered on the landing deck, each member of the Flameborn elite clad in reinforced combat armour imbued with personal cultivation arrays. Their souls burned with power. They were warriors forged in the fires of a thousand battles, but none had entered something like this before—a prison sealed by the very ancestors of humanity's cultivation path.

The dark sphere loomed larger through the viewport, like a dead sun. Chains of light pulsed and hissed as they moved closer, as though resisting their approach.

Vira's voice echoed through their comms. "Warning: spiritual instability rising. Prepare for combat conditions upon entry."

Rael nodded. "Deploy the First Flame spearhead formation. I want full array coverage on descent. Shield cultivators to the front. Engage suppressive barriers."

The team shifted into position.

At his signal, the hatch opened—and twenty cultivators launched into the void.

Their auras lit the darkness like falling stars.

The moment they crossed the barrier surrounding the sphere, everything changed.

The spiritual space twisted. Time warped. One second stretched into ten. Flames flickered in reverse. Sound became vibration across their bones. Rael's instincts screamed, his Flame Soul coiling around his body to protect him.

He landed hard on black stone.

Not natural stone—but forged, smooth and engraved with carvings that pulsed with buried energy. The moment his boots touched it, the chains above them rattled violently.

They were no longer in a sphere.

They stood on the floor of a city—one inside the sphere.

Structures of metal and bone stretched upward like broken towers. Empty streets spread out in all directions, eerily symmetrical. The air was thick with dormant spiritual energy and the scent of something ancient.

Damon drew his twin blades. "What... is this place?"

Selene pointed to a nearby wall, where faded murals told stories long forgotten.

One showed human cultivators binding something enormous—an entity cloaked in darkness, wielding what looked like dozens of innate abilities. Its form shifted between beast, man, and energy.

Another mural showed Earth surrounded by stars, and a chain forged by seven Spiritual Gods encircling it.

Kaen muttered, "They sealed this before we even had a name for galaxies…"

Rael stepped forward. "Keep your formation. Eyes sharp."

They moved through the city.

The ground trembled beneath their feet.

And then… they heard it.

A voice—not spoken aloud, but pressed into their minds.

"Return... the flame..."

The cultivators froze. Rael's breath hitched. That voice had no mouth. It felt like being buried under a mountain of emotion—rage, sorrow, betrayal.

Suddenly, the shadows around them moved.

Out of the broken towers came wraith-like figures. Not beasts. Not machines.

Cultivators.

Human cultivators.

But twisted—spirits caught between life and death, with shattered cores and corrupted meridians. Their eyes glowed red, and dark energy leaked from their every step.

Selene gasped. "Those are... humans?"

Rael growled. "No. Not anymore."

One of the wraiths let out a piercing cry and rushed forward.

Rael raised his hand. "Engage!"

BOOM!

The battlefield erupted.

Kaen shot forward first, his dagger gleaming with crimson energy. He dashed beneath the wraith's strike and slashed across its chest. The being hissed—but its wounds closed instantly.

Rael's voice boomed: "Hit their cores! They're corrupted cultivators—only a clean strike to their energy centers will release them!"

Selene leapt into the air, her spear spinning. "Ice Prison—Glacial Domain!"

A circle of frost spread across the ruined plaza, slowing the wraiths. Damon followed, slicing through one with a brilliant arc of swordlight.

Rael surged forward.

"Flame Nova—Sunburst Strike!"

He slammed his palm into the ground. Fire exploded in a wide radius, sending a wave of golden heat through the enemy ranks. Several wraiths disintegrated, screaming as they were reduced to embers.

But for each one they felled, two more emerged.

"We're surrounded!" Vira shouted over the comm.

Rael's eyes locked onto a large spire deeper in the city. "We're not here to fight endlessly. We're here to find the source."

He pointed. "That tower! It holds the seal! We break it, we end this!"

The team surged forward, carving a path through the undead cultivators.

Damon took a hit to the shoulder but blasted his attacker away with a wave of sword qi.

Selene shielded Vira as she launched a barrage of spatial blades.

Rael burned a trail, drawing the enemies toward him. "Solar Burst—Heaven Cleaving Arc!"

He slashed upward, his flames cutting through ten wraiths in one devastating stroke.

Finally, they reached the spire.

It was covered in ancient sigils—seven rings of divine seals, glowing faintly.

Rael stepped forward.

As he approached, one of the seals pulsed—and an image appeared.

A man.

Golden robes. Long hair. A staff carved from starsteel. Eyes that glowed like the sun itself.

"Is that…?" Kaen began.

Rael whispered, "The Prime Warden."

The image spoke, its voice slow and powerful.

"Only those who have inherited the will of fire may awaken the truth. To break the chains is to face what we once feared. But time has run out. The Council comes. And behind them…"

The image trembled.

"…comes the one we dared never name."

The seals cracked.

The city screamed.

And deep within the spire, something awakened.

The air fractured.

Space itself trembled like a beaten drum as the seal's final ring shattered with a soundless cry. Spiritual energy surged upward from the spire in a violent cyclone, exploding into light that bathed the ruined city in brilliant gold and ominous crimson.

Rael staggered backward as the spiritual wind whipped against his armour. His Flame Soul flared, protecting his body from being torn apart by the volatile currents. Beside him, Selene stabbed her spear into the ground to anchor herself, and Kaen used a shadow-step technique to stay behind Rael's fire shield.

"Get back!" Rael shouted, holding out both hands.

"Infernal Barrier—Celestial Ember Ring!"

A circle of spiralling fire erupted around his squad, shielding them from the swirling power.

Then, as suddenly as it began… the cyclone collapsed inward.

BOOM!

A massive crater now yawned where the spire had stood.

And floating in its centre… was a man.

Or at least, what used to be one.

His body was wrapped in broken chains, some hanging from his limbs, others floating like shattered halos around him. His long hair waved slowly in the thick air, and his eyes burned—one with golden fire, the other with bottomless black.

Across his bare chest, a sigil was seared into the flesh—a mark Rael recognized from the ancient murals.

Selene whispered, "That's the Mark of the Forsaken Flame…"

The man slowly turned his gaze upon them.

His voice carried across the entire city, into their minds and souls.

"So… the descendants of the unworthy have come."

Rael stood his ground. "We are cultivators of Earth, successors of those who sealed you. We demand answers."

The man gave a humourless laugh, the sound echoing like thunder in a sealed tomb.

"You demand? You… demand?"

He raised a hand. Instantly, the gravity of the area shifted, and Rael's knees buckled. The ground beneath them cracked under the pressure of raw power.

"You know nothing of what was sacrificed."

Damon grunted, struggling to stay upright. "He's... beyond a Spiritual Emperor. Could he be…?"

Rael narrowed his eyes. "Level 100. He's a God."

Kaen's dagger shook in his grip. "We can't fight him, not yet!"

The God's gaze swept over them. "You are not ready. But I am not your enemy… not yet. Listen well, flames of the new age."

He raised both hands—and the broken city responded.

Buildings reformed from dust. Statues of ancient cultivators rose around them, showing figures who once protected humanity.

Then, a rift opened above.

Through it, a scene projected itself across the sky: fleets of alien ships, massive and dark, descending upon a planet covered in forests and crystal spires. At the centre of the fleet, a colossal entity emerged—one with dozens of wings made of void matter and an eye that watched across dimensions.

"They are returning," the God said. "The ones we failed to stop… the true architects of the reset."

Selene stepped forward. "The Council?"

"No." His voice dropped. "The one who rules them."

Rael's heart pounded. "The Prime Calamity?"

The God nodded. "You have 400 years before they breach the veil fully. You must ascend faster than any who came before you. And when the time comes, you must decide—destroy this galaxy… or be destroyed."

With a flick of his fingers, a golden ember floated toward Rael.

It entered his chest.

Pain unlike anything he'd ever known exploded within him—his meridians ignited, and his Flame Soul roared in reaction. His cultivation surged. Not in level, but in potential.

The God's voice faded into the mist as he began to dissolve, his final words lingering.

"I have given you my burden. Now carry it… or perish."

And with that, he vanished, leaving only silence and burning stars.

---

Later, aboard the Vermillion Spear...

Rael sat cross-legged in his chamber, trying to control the raging fire now coursing through his body. The ember had fused with his core. Every breath he took summoned flickers of divine essence.

Selene entered quietly. "How long do we have before the galaxy notices that seal's been broken?"

Rael opened his eyes. They were glowing—one bright gold, one still human.

"Too long… or not long enough."

Kaen stepped in. "The council's forward scouts have already started retreating from the nearby sectors. They felt something too."

Vira's voice chimed in through the room's speakers. "We've also detected a shift in spatial anomalies across the Astral Corridor. Several ancient cultivation sites are waking up. It's like the galaxy is... preparing."

Rael stood slowly, his aura flaring like a bonfire.

"Then so must we."

He stepped onto the war table, projecting a map of the Milky Way.

"Mobilise all sectors. Recruit every Spiritual Warrior and above. Begin reactivating Earth's ancient spatial sanctuaries."

He looked at the others.

"Train them. Forge them. Burn them if we must."

His hand pointed toward the centre of the galaxy.

"Because when the Prime Calamity comes... we go to him."