Chapter 52 – Ancient legacy
The sun barely peeked through the crimson-stained clouds as Jin traveled through the rough terrain leading away from the ruins. The earth pulsed subtly beneath his feet, faint echoes of power humming through the soil—whispers only a soul-attuned cultivator like him could feel. Gorr floated beside him lazily, arms folded, smug as ever.
"Another ruin?" Gorr yawned. "What's the plan this time? Punch another relic into submission?"
Jin ignored the jab. His mind was fixed on a new signal—faint, elusive, yet undeniably ancient. Somewhere nearby, there was another ruin. Different from the others. This one didn't call out with essence or spiritual force. It was... quiet, almost mournful.
But before he could focus on the trail, a blur of orange and crimson landed before him, sending up a plume of dust.
Jin narrowed his eyes.
"Ignis."
The flame-haired prodigy of the Blazing Phoenix Sect smiled, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with unspoken challenge. "Jin. We finally meet alone."
Jin's tone was flat. "If you're here to fight, you're wasting your time."
"No. I'm here to test."
"Same thing," Jin muttered, turning to walk past him.
"You can't run from it forever," Ignis said sharply. "Sooner or later, you and I—we'll fight. The heavens have already decided that."
That made Jin pause.
He turned slightly, his expression unreadable. A chill ran down his spine, not from fear, but from something deeper—an instinct that had saved his life countless times. Something was coming. He could feel it. Whether it was Ignis or something greater, he couldn't tell. But the fire user's words lingered like a curse in the wind.
"I don't have time for games," Jin finally said, then left, leaving Ignis staring at his back.
Hours passed. Jin weaved through valleys and cliffs, focusing on the flickering pulse he had sensed earlier. It took precise adjustments to his elemental senses and soul perception, but eventually, a curtain of wind parted before a jagged crevice in the rock.
He stepped inside.
The air grew still.
No wild essence.
No obvious barrier.
Only a silence that seemed too heavy for the living world.
And then he saw it—a narrow path leading deep into the heart of the mountain. Lit only by dimly glowing runes on the walls, the corridor opened into a vast chamber covered in murals and old, weathered texts.
Jin stepped forward, fingers brushing against one of the stone carvings.
What he read shook him to his core.
"We were born without elements. But we proved worthy. Some among us gained two. Then three. Then four. And then... we were feared."
Jin's breath hitched.
"We were hunted, not for evil, but for power. Four elements were a threat. Until one of us gained eight."
An image of a man with halos of eight elemental rings carved above his head was etched into the center of the wall.
"They called him blasphemy. A monster. So he made a pact with the elements. Anyone who kills our kin shall lose all their essence. He gave his life for this."
The text darkened.
"But it was no salvation. They made us into tools. Weapons. One-time use sacrifices. We became living talismans, hunted and drained. When they encounter danger, they swap places with us—the mighty enemy become mortal."
Jin read each line with growing fury and disbelief.
At the far end of the chamber lay a diary, scrawled in ancient ink. It trembled with sorrow. Written by the genius himself.
Jin read the final line:
"If someone of our blood reaches this place—someone with at least four elements—may they inherit my final gift. May they carry our curse and our hope."
Beneath the diary was a crystal vial filled with glowing, crimson liquid—thick with life, old, and impossibly potent.
Jin's heart pounded.
A single word was carved under the vial: Inheritance.
Without hesitation, Jin lifted it.
He didn't even need to drink. The moment the vial touched his lips, the blood surged into him. Power raced through his veins like lightning. A wisp of ancient soul essence burned into his core. His elements roared as if recognizing an eternal sovereign.
And then it hit him—an ability etched into his soul.
Elemental Devastation.
It didn't summon elements. It didn't unleash blasts.
It broke the essence of others.
If he came into contact with a cultivator's element—fire, wind, water, anything—he could disrupt the internal harmony of their essence. Shatter it from the inside.
A cultivator without control of their essence was no cultivator at all.
He staggered backward, breath shaking. Not from pain, but awe. This... this wasn't a technique. It was a curse forged by one who had suffered the wrath of an entire world.
Jin swore an oath.
"If I find anyone from this race... I'll protect them."
He stood tall.
The inheritance hadn't given him more elements. It hadn't expanded his cultivation. But it had given him something else—command.
And with command came burden.
As he left the chamber, the murals flickered behind him. Jin didn't look back.
He stepped outside. The air was still. The ruin behind him sealed itself shut, its secrets now entwined with his blood.
He exhaled slowly, then clenched his fists.
"Elemental Devastation…" he whispered. "I'll carry your will."
Suddenly, the air around him rippled.
Jin froze.
A pulse echoed through the bond he had created with Lyra—the blood-tipped strand of Gorr's hair he had given her. Someone had scanned it with spiritual awareness.
His eyes sharpened.
"She called," he muttered.
A vortex of space energy whirled into existence beside him. Gorr blinked awake instantly, already grinning. "About time."
Jin gave a nod. "Let's go."
The two vanished in a flash of spatial light—pulled across the continent by the locked coordinates in the strand Lyra had activated.
Wherever she was... it had begun.
Something serious was happening.