446: Mysterious Dark Aura 446: Mysterious Dark Aura “Huh?” Alice scoffed, crossing her arms with a glare.
“As if I’ll believe that.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
She knew the Tower of Truth wasn’t sothing that could be controlled so easily, and Max’s smug tone made it clear he was ssing with her.
Or so she thought.
What she didn’t realize was that Max wasn’t joking.
Not entirely.
Still playing along, she huffed.
“You must’ve gained so kind of Authority, huh?
That’s probably how you’re walking around in here.” Max gave her a long, unreadable look, then let out a soft laugh.
“Alright, you caught .
But now you know I can reach you even if I leave the Chamber of Concepts.” Alice gave a satisfied nod.
“Don’t forget to call when you get out.” Max grinned.
“How could I ever forget about you?” he teased.
“Now go away,” Alice shot back, though there was no real heat in her words.
Max nodded with a smile.
“I’ll see you soon.” With that, his body shimred briefly and disappeared from her flaming chamber, reappearing monts later on the tenth floor, right at the glowing blue entrance of the Chamber of Concepts—alone once more, but carrying the warmth of the mont with him.
He stood in silence before the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts, his eyes narrowing and his brows furrowing in unease.
The glowing blue light that once seed serene now pulsed with sothing far more sinister, sothing that crawled beneath the surface of his senses like a shadow in the soul.
Ever since he had connected with the Tower of Truth, his perception had expanded—he could feel things others couldn’t, energies hidden in layers unseen by ordinary eyes.
And now, standing here, he felt it again.
A dark, foreboding aura.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Almost suffocating in its weight.
And yet, what disturbed him the most wasn’t the darkness of it—it was the familiarity.
‘What is this aura?’ Max asked himself, a flicker of unease rising in his chest.
‘Where is it coming from?’ He closed his eyes, focused, and traced the sensation.
It wasn’t coming from within the Chamber itself—he was sure of that.
When he’d entered earlier with Alice, there had been no such presence.
The inside of the Chamber was intense, yes, filled with elental power and conceptual laws, but not this…
corruption.
No, this aura was rooted sowhere else, right at the boundary, at the threshold where the outer floor t the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts.
The closer he stood to the entrance, the clearer it beca—like sothing had seeped into the Tower unnoticed, embedding itself just beneath the surface, hidden from ordinary sight.
And yet now, with his link to the Tower, he could feel it—this lurking, familiar evil, pulsing in silence, waiting.
‘Xolo, are you feeling this dark aura coming from the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts?’ Max asked inwardly, his eyes still fixed on the glowing veil of blue light.
If anyone could make sense of what he was sensing, it would be Xolo—the ancient spirit that had been guarding and overseeing the Tower of Truth since the very mont it was built.
If there was a secret buried in these walls, surely Xolo would know sothing.
There was a brief pause before the tower spirit responded, its voice echoing directly within Max’s mind, ancient and calm, but tinged with a faint unease.
“I know this dark aura,” Xolo said slowly, each word deliberate.
“There was a long period where the Tower was pure—no such presence existed here.
But then, one day, without warning and without my awareness, this aura appeared.
It erged right here, at the entrance of the Chamber of Concepts.” Max listened intently, his frown deepening.
“I tried everything,” Xolo continued, his tone heavier now, as if recalling a frustration that had long haunted him.
“I searched the tower, traced every corridor, every artifact, every inch of the stone and spirit veins that make up this place… but no matter how I looked, I couldn’t find the source.
It’s like the aura doesn’t co from anywhere—it simply is.” The spirit’s voice fell silent for a beat, letting the weight of those words settle.
Max heard Xolo’s words, and the frown on his face deepened, his brows creasing so hard it looked like they might never relax.
Sothing hidden inside the Tower—sothing even the tower spirit couldn’t find—ant only one thing.
‘Soone had intentionally concealed sothing here.’ That thought alone sent a shiver down his spine, but it was quickly followed by a storm of questions swirling in his mind.
‘Who was this person?
How powerful did they have to be to bypass the awareness of Xolo?’ The tower wasn’t so ordinary structure—it was a sentient monunt of laws, forged with ancient purpose and guarded by a spirit that didn’t sleep, didn’t rest, and was always watching.
Unlike Max, who had to direct his consciousness and concentrate on specific areas to sense anything through the tower, Xolo’s awareness was spread across every inch of it.
Every floor.
Every room.
Every artifact and soul inside it.
He was the eyes, the will, the very breath of the Tower of Truth.
And yet—soone had slipped past him.
‘Not just entered unseen,’ Max realized, ‘but placed sothing—or beca sothing—that could emit such a dark, familiar aura… without triggering a single ripple in Xolo’s perception.’ It wasn’t just alarming.
It was terrifying.
Max stood still, lost in thought for a mont as he processed everything.
‘If even the tower spirit couldn’t locate the source of that aura, he reasoned, then there’s no way I can find it either.
Not now, at least.’ He let out a silent breath and shook his head, brushing away the lingering thoughts.
‘I’ll look into this later… when I’m stronger, when I know more.’ With that silent promise to himself, he turned back toward the glowing entrance.
The bluish light shimred before him like the surface of a gentle lake, rippling with ethereal energy.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his figure slowly consud by the light until he vanished completely from the tenth floor.
The next mont, he found himself engulfed in darkness—absolute, suffocating darkness.
There was no sound, no wind, no sensation underfoot.
It was a void, empty and vast.
But then, like a whisper in the silence, four familiar sensations rushed over him at once.
First ca the searing heat of flas, wild and untad.
Then, the violent crackle of lightning, fierce and destructive.
The third was the sharp, focused edge of a sword, cold yet precise.
And finally, the strange, expansive pull of space itself—mysterious, boundless, and ever-changing.
‘I can feel all my auras here,’ Max thought, eyes narrowing in concentration.
‘Or rather, three auras and one concept.’ He paused, focusing deeper, feeling the connection between himself and each force.
‘My sword aura… it’s already knocking on the door of becoming a concept.’ That realization settled like a stone in his chest.
‘Then I should start there—comprehend the sword concept first.’ The instant that thought solidified, the world around him responded.
The darkness split apart.
Light burst into existence—crimson, violent, and heavy with the stench of blood.
In the blink of an eye, Max was no longer in a void but standing in the middle of a war-torn battlefield.
The sky above was dark and stormy, torn with red clouds and howling winds.
All around him were swords—hundreds of thousands of them—stabbed into the scorched earth as far as the eye could see.
So were simple and rusted, others ornate and glowing with power, but each one radiated a terrifying, deadly aura.
They weren’t just weapons; they were graves, mories, echoes of battles long past.
Max stood still, heart pounding as the weight of this place pressed against him.
‘This… is the path of the sword,’ he realized.
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS ShinGotLost Your gift is the motivation for my creation.
Give more motivation!
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