Rising god
Chapter 51: Outburst

Chapter 51: Outburst

Baines moved with purpose through the Darkan estate, his footsteps echoing against polished marble floors.

The air was thick with the scent of wax and old parchment, a reminder of the ancient power that permeated this place. His destination was the Darkan library, a repository of knowledge that held techniques and cultivation methods amassed since the family’s founding.

The library was a five-story tower, with each level more exclusive than the last. Baines had been granted access to the third floor, a privilege, yet a limitation.

The fourth floor was reserved for those bearing the Darkan name, a threshold he could cross by renouncing his own identity, an offer the family dangled like a gilded cage, while the fifth floor was accessible only to the family head and their chosen successor.

A servant awaited him at the base of the tower, his livery pristine, his demeanor deferential. "Sir Jin, a pleasure to meet you. I am assigned to guide you," he said, offering a small bow. His voice was polite but carried the weight of routine, as if he’d ushered countless visitors through these halls.

Baines nodded, following the servant through the towering iron gates of the library.

The structure loomed like a sentinel, its stone facade carved with runes that pulsed faintly with protective magic.

Inside, the air grew cooler, the silence oppressive. Each floor was guarded by sentinels in ceremonial armor, their eyes sharp, ensuring order.

The first floor was a labyrinth of shelves, teeming with thousands of tomes. The second was less crowded, its books more specialized. By the third floor, the shelves were sparse, holding no more than two hundred volumes, each a treasure of martial knowledge.

"Sir Jin, please note, you have five hours," the servant said, bowing again. "Enjoy your time." He retreated, leaving Baines alone with the weight of opportunity.

Five hours, two hundred books, and Eye were all he needed.

With Eye’s scanning capabilities, he could plunder the library’s secrets with ruthless efficiency. He approached the first shelf, his fingers brushing the leather-bound spines.

Titan’s Earthquake Fist, a technique that channeled a warrior’s strength into a single, devastating strike. Phantom Mirage Steps, a movement art that conjured afterimages, bewildering foes. Baines activated Eye, copying each technique with mechanical precision, storing their intricacies in his mind.

By the third shelf, a slim volume caught his attention:

Aura Manipulation Techniques.

Its unassuming cover belied its significance, and curiosity stirred within him. "Eye, scan," he commanded, flipping through its pages.

[SCANNING...]

[PERMISSION TO TRANSFER INFORMATION]

"Do it," Baines said, bracing for the influx. A sharp pain lanced through his skull as the knowledge poured in, a torrent of insights reshaping his understanding.

Aura, the lifeblood of martial warriors, typically manifested as a universal white light. Then, to imbue it with attributes, like his Aging reversal and Absolute cut and destruction, required one of two methods.

The first was cultivation techniques, which drew elemental essence into the core, permanently altering its nature. His Ashen-Origin arts, rooted in his heart core, were such a method, and can’t change it once they begin, unless they decide to lose their years of progress

The second method was aura manipulation techniques.

It involved shaping the aura’s outward properties to mimic elements. A good example of this was the Eternal Echo technique, or the Aging reversal technique. For this, one has to actively maintain the form of that said element to use it.

’This book ultimately says, all martial techniques were aura manipulation techniques.’ But it didn’t sit right with him.

It felt like something was missing.

"Hoo... you’ve picked an interesting book there," a voice interrupted, low and weathered, carrying the weight of centuries.

Baines froze.

The library had vanished, replaced by an expanse of nothingness.

The air was neither warm nor cold, the ground neither solid nor void. It was a realm apart, a new world that sent a shiver down his spine. The sensation was hauntingly familiar; he’d felt it twice before, in the presence of forgotten gods.

’Who is it?’

’Which god has business with me?’

His mind raced, parsing possibilities.

’I thought I stayed hidden.’

’Did they find me?’

He hadn’t even glanced at the speaker, too consumed by questions.

’How many know I’m alive?’

’My sister doesn’t.’

’Kwon doesn’t. Martos...’ His eyes widened.

Martos, who was tied to the Ashen family, knew he lived.

They’d spoken of successor candidates and whatnot.

"You’re thinking too much," the voice said, closer now. A figure materialized before him. A stooped old man, his robes tattered yet regal, his eyes glinting with ancient wisdom. His presence was calm, devoid of malice, but Baines remained wary.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. "Alright, I have an idea why you’re here, but I’ll say it now: I’m not interested."

"Huh?" The old man tilted his head, confusion creasing his weathered face.

"You don’t have to hide it, I know you’re from the Ashen family."

The old man’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise betraying his composure.

Baines continued, his voice sharp. "So I’m going to just say it, I’m not interested in your successor, whatever." Honestly, from the start, that wasn’t even among his goals. The Ashen family’s legacy meant nothing to him. Their secrecy, their abandonment of his mother, had cost him everything.

"We taught you our technique, will you return that as well?" The old man spoke.

"It’ll be a loss, sure, but take it if you want," Baines really meant what he said. Those bastards actually had someone on this level of strength, and they let their family fall.

All because they didn’t want the world to know of their existence.

’If I lose it, I still have eye, and the Dark’s sun mana. If I absorb that, I would be a believer, and he would revive. There are also the nameless martial arts...’ He was already thinking of other ways he could gain strength.

These people were seriously irritating him.

However, he didn’t voice it. It was his business now, not theirs.

He didn’t need their help.

"You’re angry," the old man observed. "But we saved you."

"Why?" Baines’s voice cracked, pain seeping through. He’d contemplated death back then, the weight of his family’s loss crushing him. The rescue had just felt like a cruel jest.

The old man was speechless. This boy was simply too angry. If not for the fact that he probably knew he was very strong, he would’ve attacked.

’This boy would rather see the world burn.’ He could read Baines like a book. Just like those panels could read his emotions, he could literally see it.

"But they are still alive, what if they were dead?" The old man pushed.

Baines’s laughter erupted, a harsh, guttural sound that echoed in the void. It was the loudest he’d laughed in years, but it died abruptly, his gaze dropping to the unseen ground.

He couldn’t answer.

The thought of his family dead was a wound too raw to touch.

"What if they are dead?" the old man asked again, expecting an outburst.

"Look, if you’re taking the technique, do it and leave," Baines said, his voice flat. "I have things to do."

"That’s no way to speak to your elders," the old man chided.

"Elders?" Baines’s eyes blazed. "You lost that right years ago." He shook his head.

"Why don’t you also see it from the family’s point of view? No, do you even know what the Ashen family is?"

"Let me guess, my mother disobeyed the family and probably married my father, and you abandoned her. I know this isn’t meant to be your concern. Risking the lives of family members to save another family member doesn’t sound right, I understand. But why did you save us in the end?" In years, this was the most he had spoken to a single person, and it was showing in him.

He really wanted to take out all that pent-up rage on something, anything, and truthfully, that was why this old man was here.

"So I need a reason to save family?"

"Not after you’ve abandoned them." Baines shook his head, "I can swear if mother were free, she wouldn’t have left. Okay, look at this situation. I am the PRODUCT of what you didn’t want. Now what? Someone comes and suddenly tells me I am fit to be the successor of a clan that didn’t approve of my existence."

"Stop being selfish, this isn’t just about you."

"EXACTLY." He screeched. "That is why I am going to take revenge myself, my own way. I don’t need your or the family’s help."

The old man remained placid, but inside, he was elated.

Baines’s defiance, his unyielding pursuit of his own path, was the essence of the Ashen family. Their self-justification, their relentless drive, these were the traits that defined them. The circumstances of Baines’s pain were tragic, but they’d forged a true heir.

"Do you know who I am?" the old man asked, his final question.

"Does it matter?" Baines shot back.

"Exactly." The old man nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The truth was evident, yet Baines’s refusal to accept it was telling.

"Then, I’ll leave you with this: things have changed. Do what you will with that knowledge."

The void dissolved, and Baines found himself back in the library, the book on aura manipulation still in his hands.

he shelves loomed around him, the air heavy with the scent of old leather. His heart pounded, rage and resolve warring within him.

"FUCK!"

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