Chapter 20 – The Ruins Beneath
The crumbled skyline of Ashveil stretched across the horizon, skeletal buildings clawing at the dim sky like monuments to a forgotten war. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by the occasional shift of rubble or distant mutant howl.
Auther moved quietly across shattered pavement, his senses fully extended.
The directions he'd memorized from the stolen map were correct. Just beyond the collapsed parking garage and underneath the skeletal remains of a department store was what once served as a satellite outpost of the Awakeners Association.
It had been overrun early during the collapse. No records survived in the open. But strong mutant activity in the area had always kept people away. Which meant…
There was something still here.
And if there was even a chance of finding a rare cultivation technique, skill book, or mana crystal, he was willing to risk it.
He reached the entrance: a cracked stone stairway partially hidden beneath broken tiles and layers of collapsed debris.
Auther drew his blade and cleared the path, carefully scanning for traps or sigils. The Association didn't trust easily—especially with outsiders. Even in death, its secrets might remain buried behind mana-sealed layers and wards.
With Neural Reinforcement and Mana Flow Optimization supporting his focus, he spotted a faint shimmer across the threshold.
A detection glyph.
Old. Faint.
But still functional.
He knelt and traced its structure. "Basic motion and energy trigger. Could trigger a pulse trap or alert nearby monsters if active."
He didn't have a disarm skill yet. But he could improvise.
He tossed a cracked mana crystal into the hallway.
The glyph flared—
Then discharged a low ripple of blue energy down the corridor.
Something clicked in the distance.
A door opened.
A trap did not trigger.
He waited. Ten seconds. No rumble. No screech. No explosion.
"Clever," he muttered. "Used it to mark friend or foe."
He stepped through.
The hallway sloped downward, walls lined with cracked stone and scorched metal. Dried blood painted the floor in jagged trails. Remnants of a last stand.
His boots echoed softly.
He moved slowly, checking every few steps. Mutant carcasses lay scattered—most long rotted—but no recent activity. That was both comforting and suspicious.
Then he saw it.
A faint light ahead.
Auther turned off his mana lantern and crept closer, hiding his signature.
The corridor opened into a large underground chamber, partially collapsed, yet still intact in structure. Shelves of broken weapons lined the walls. Training dummies burned to ash.
But in the center?
A massive stone pedestal surrounded by runes.
And atop it—
A mana-sealed chest, pulsing faintly.
Jackpot.
He approached slowly, studying the runes.
Old-style lock.
It required energy imprint verification—meaning only someone registered with the Association or bearing a compatible mana signature could open it.
He touched the edge of the pedestal.
No response.
Of course.
He wasn't registered. And force-opening a mana lock without the proper tools could trigger disintegration traps, detonations, or worse—a silent curse that would kill over time.
Still… this was too valuable to ignore.
Auther sat cross-legged a few feet away and activated Starwave Breathing.
His goal wasn't to break it open—but to understand it.
His mana reached toward the pedestal, brushing against the runes gently. Not pressing. Just listening.
Each rune flickered in response, resisting him.
But some flickered slightly weaker than others.
He smiled.
"Even spells degrade…"
He studied the flickering points for five minutes, then pulled back.
"Four anchor points. One is nearly burned out. If I can create a micro-insertion skill to pulse a compatible energy frequency…"
He opened Skill Creation.
> Name: Pulse Thread
Description: "A low-cost utility spell that creates a thin mana thread designed to vibrate at harmonic frequencies with a target enchantment or magical lock. Used for probing or subtle interference."
Rank: F3
Cost: 12 SP
He hesitated, then confirmed.
[Skill Created: Pulse Thread (F3)]
[Remaining SP: 5]
The thread emerged in his hand, thin as spider silk, shimmering pale-blue.
He focused it toward the weak rune on the pedestal and released a low harmonic pulse.
The rune flickered… then dimmed.
He worked quickly, targeting the other three—each requiring different frequencies, different pressure levels.
It took nearly twenty minutes.
But finally—
The seal broke.
The chest unlocked with a low chime and released a puff of shimmering mana vapor.
Auther stepped back, blade drawn.
No explosion.
No curse.
No guardian.
He opened it.
Inside lay a mana crystal the size of his fist, glowing faint blue, and a sealed scroll wrapped in crimson bands.
He picked up the crystal first.
"Tier D, mid-grade. Enough to push me through E1 to maybe E3 if I refine it properly."
Then the scroll.
He opened the bindings and carefully unrolled it.
His eyes widened.
A cultivation technique.
But not just any.
> Name: Heavenvein Refinement
Rank: E9 (Growth Type)
Description: "A foundational cultivation method designed to purify and reinforce mana circuits. Absorbs ambient mana slowly but ensures stable, balanced growth. Focuses on structural advancement and internal cleansing. Compatible with most species."
He blinked again, making sure he wasn't hallucinating.
This wasn't a combat technique.
But it was perfect for long-term growth.
Exactly what he needed before pushing to E3 and above, where unstable circuits could rupture from high-speed absorption.
He sat again and began the binding ritual—letting the scroll's mana imprint onto his core.
The moment the script sunk into his being, he felt it.
A deep, soothing hum through his limbs.
His breathing slowed.
His thoughts cleared.
He would begin using this alongside Starwave Breathing during cultivation cycles.
Now more than ever, he realized—this world didn't just reward strength.
It rewarded those who could read it. Think beyond the surface. Adapt.
Strength was just one part of survival.
But knowledge… and creativity?
That was power.
Auther stood and took one last look around the chamber.
The outpost was mostly gutted. Whatever treasures once existed here were long gone or buried beneath tons of rubble. But he'd found what he came for.
And that was enough.
As he left the chamber and climbed back toward the surface, he paused at the stairway.
The wind had picked up.
In the distance, he heard a long, echoing cry.
Not a mutant.
Something… higher.
He narrowed his eyes.
Another evolved being?
Another Awakened?
He wasn't ready for that yet.
But soon.
He checked his SP again.
[Skill Points: 5]
Still too little to create anything significant.
But maybe…
Maybe it was time to plan his next moves carefully.
After all—
If he wanted to grow stronger fast, he'd need to find a mini-gate soon.
The mutated zones weren't enough anymore.
He needed real mana dungeons.
And he needed them soon.