The sky above shuddered as a massive spatial distortion rippled through the air. From the gaping tear in reality, a flaming figure hurtled downward, a blazing cot crashing violently into a jagged mountain range below.
Amidst the smoke and smoldering debris, Ery stirred.
Pain lanced through his body, every nerve screaming in protest. His clothes were scorched, and his skin was marred with deep bruises and cuts. Exhausted physically, ntally, and spiritually, he fought the searing ache to sit upright in a lotus position.
With trembling hands, he pulled out a recovery pill, the faint glow of alchemical energy glimring in the pale light. He swallowed it quickly, feeling the restorative power seep into his veins, knitting wounds and replenishing his strength little by little.
His breaths steadied, and his focus sharpened. Closing his eyes, Ery extended his divine sense outward, feeling the pulse of the land around him.
It was a serene mountain range, crowned with sprawling forests, crystal-clear rivers, and a sky so blue it felt almost out of place after the suffocating void he had just escaped. The wind carried the scent of pine and fresh earth, whispering peace—but Ery knew better than to trust appearances.
"Where… am I?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.
There were no obvious threats, no hostile auras, but uncertainty gnawed at him.
Without wasting another mont, Ery turned his focus inward—toward his domain. A familiar connection opened, and with a thought, Ery's form dissolved into ethereal energy, transporting him directly into his Khaos Hub.
The once-stable sanctuary was in shambles. Portions of the mountain structure had collapsed, rubble and dust littering the sacred space. Jagged cracks spider-webbed across the cavern walls, and faint traces of residual chaotic energy lingered in the air like ghostly embers.
With a swift flick of his fingers, the debris shifted, stones floated, and in monts the hub was restored to a semblance of order.
His sharp gaze shifted to the twelve gates arrayed in a wide arc before him—each one a swirling vortex connected to Khaos Seeds, and at two opposite sides, two massive Khaos Gates stood like ancient monoliths.
Before he could investigate further, a familiar voice echoed from the cave's entrance.
"Father!!"
A girl with luminous hair and bright, tear-filled eyes rushed toward him, Shinta.
She flung herself into his embrace, clutching him tightly as if he might vanish again at any mont. Ery closed his arms around her, letting the exhaustion and fear in his chest lt away—if only for a brief second.
Throughout his harrowing ti in the Eternal Void, Ery had managed to send fleeting spirit ssages to his daughter. But this… this was the first ti he could physically hold her again.
Behind her, Ha Ron and Kingrig entered cautiously. The two acolytes bowed deeply, their faces painted with relief and lingering worry.
"We thought we'd lost you, Master," Ha Ron said solemnly.
Ery gave them a small nod, but his attention returned to the gates. Sothing was wrong—terribly wrong.
His eyes locked onto the Famine Gate—the gateway bound to Killgragah, the mighty dragon who had saved his life in the void.
A massive crack ran through the gate's intricate structure, glowing faintly with unstable energy.
The sight made Ery's stomach churn.
If the gate was damaged, what did that an for Killgragah? Was the dragon alive? Was it trapped?
"What happened, Father?" Shinta's soft voice broke the silence, her concern clear in her trembling words.
Ery shook his head, his jaw tight. "I'm not sure…"
His gaze flickered to the Pestilence Gate, bound to the tentacled guardian Cthulhu. Unlike Famine, this gate appeared intact—its swirling energies stable, its connection unbroken.
A flicker of hope ignited in Ery's chest.
Channeling his spirit energy into the Pestilence Gate, he felt the familiar pulse of chaotic energy respond to his touch. Slowly, the swirling vortex opened, revealing a shimring corridor that led to the hall where Cthulhu resided.
"Cthulhu… I need answers."
Ery stepped through, his boots touched the cold stone floor,, and at the far end of the hall lay the Khaos guardian, Cthulhu.
Its massive form sprawled across a pulsating pool of green liquid, tendrils curling and uncurling with each labored breath. The mont their gazes locked, Ery spoke, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions within him.
"Cthulhu… I need answers."
The ancient being's eyes glimred faintly, its voice vibrating through the hall like a chorus of whispers.
"The answer is obvious, isn't it? You are in a foreign realm, too far from the other seeds."
Ery's shoulders sagged slightly as the confirmation hit him. It was as he feared—they were isolated, severed from the Khaos network. But despite the gravity of the situation, it was still better than the chaotic Eternal Void he had narrowly escaped.
He took a deep breath and moved to his second, more pressing question.
"What happened back there... Before I arrived here—the appearance of Khaos… and Killgragah…"
A heavy silence hung between them before the ancient being responded.
"The Lord's will is not mine to judge… as for that dragon… he is no more."
The words struck Ery like a thunderclap.
"...No more? What do you an?!"
Cthulhu's tendrils shifted uneasily, and a faint pulse of frustration radiated from its imnse form.
"Dead… what else?! I can't sense his presence anymore."
The finality of the words cut deep. Killgragah… dead? The mighty dragon who had been his guardian, his ally—gone? Ery's mind raced, desperately clawing for a way to deny what he'd just heard.
"Let speak to Lord Khaos!"
Cthulhu's eyes closed briefly as if in contemplation. Then, it spoke again—its voice colder, more distant.
"You can't right now… The Lord used His strength to save you before. He requires ti to recover… to reform."
Ery clenched his fists, frustration, and grief bubbling inside him.
"There must be another way. Just a mont—just a few words will do!"
Cthulhu's deep growl reverberated through the hall, a guttural sound that sent vibrations across the stone floor.
"You should be grateful that you're still alive… There's no need to grow sentintal over that arrogant dragon."
Despite the cold delivery, Ery could sense sothing else beneath the ancient being's words—sothing unspoken. Grief. Regret. Cthulhu felt the loss too, even if it refused to show it.
Ery's thoughts drifted to Morgana, the champion bound to Famine's Gate. What would Killgragah's death an for her? For her bond to the Khaos Gate?
Cthulhu's countless eyes turned toward him again, as if reading his thoughts directly.
"Killgragah might be dead, but the Khaos Gate is not destroyed… The Lord of Khaos will eventually restore it."
There was a cold comfort in those words—a fragile thread of hope Ery clung to.
With a deep sigh, Ery turned his attention to the twelve smaller gates arranged in a crescent behind him. Each pulsed faintly with chaotic energy, but their connection was thin—like fragile spiderwebs stretched across vast distances.
One by one, he probed each gate with his spirit energy, searching desperately for a response. Other than the three belonging to Shinta, Ha Ron, and Kingrig all gates remained dormant, flickering faintly before falling silent again.
But one… one gate pulsed back.
It was faint, like the flicker of a dying candle, but it was there.
The gate bound to Morgana.
Hope flared in Ery's chest as he poured more of his spirit energy into the gate, trying to strengthen the connection. The swirling vortex began to shimr and brighten, but the link remained tenuous. Every push felt like pressing against an unyielding wall.
His energy began to wane, sweat dripped from his brow, and yet the gate remained stubbornly out of reach.
Behind him, Cthulhu let out a low grunt.
"You are so stubborn… dont waste your strength."
Ery didn't respond, teeth gritted, his entire being focused on the threadbare connection.
Cthulhu's voice cut through the silence again.
"There is one obvious way to strengthen the connection."
Ery turned sharply, his voice ragged. "Obvious? How?!"
"Simple… break through to the Grand Magus Realm."
The words hung heavy in the air, like an anvil suspended by a fraying rope.
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