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Now reading: CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: The Ascent from Echoes of Oblivion, a System novel by Yangretro.

The Forbidden Peak lived up to its na.

The mountain was steep, treacherous, and covered in unnatural cold. The higher they climbed, the more the Chaos energy pressed against them—like wading through freezing water.

[Chaos saturation: high. Order bearers: reduced efficiency. Chaos bearers: enhanced efficiency but increased corruption risk.]

Seris and Lena—the Chaos bearers—felt stronger here. Their shadows stretched longer. Their eyes glowed brighter.

But Varyan struggled. His Order fragnt flickered. Oblivion's Edge felt heavy in his hand.

"We're close," he said, using Order Sight to scan ahead. "There's a cave entrance about five hundred feet up. That's where the signatures are coming from."

The cave was massive—tall enough to fit a dragon. Carved into the mountain by magic or ages, no one could tell.

Inside, the walls glowed with harvested Chaos shards. Thousands of them, embedded in the stone like stars in a dark sky.

"The vault," Seris whispered. "This is it."

Guards stood at the entrance. Two Harvesters, plus a dozen stalkers.

"Kai, Lena—take the left. Mira, right. Tobin, draw their attention. Seris, with ."

They moved.

The battle was chaos—literal and figurative. Fire and shadow and speed and steel.

Tobin ran circles around the stalkers, confusing them, leading them into traps. Mira's fireballs lit up the cave. The twins fought back to back, their fragnts resonating, creating shockwaves that threw Harvesters off their feet.

Varyan and Seris pushed toward the center of the vault.

And there, standing before a pedestal of pure black stone, was the tall Harvester—the one who had escaped twice before.

"Third ti's the charm," Varyan said.

The tall Harvester lowered his hood.

He was younger than Varyan expected. Maybe eighteen. Handso, in a sharp, cruel way. His eyes were completely black—no whites, no iris. Just void.

"I am Malach," he said. "The Lord Harvest's right hand. And you have made a grave mistake, coming here."

"Probably," Varyan agreed. "But we're here anyway."

Malach raised his hand. Darkness poured from his palm—the sa Void Drain that had almost killed Varyan before.

This ti, Varyan was ready.

He threw Oblivion's Edge.

The sword spun through the air, trailing white light. It struck Malach's hand, severing two fingers. The Void Drain sputtered and died.

Malach scread.

Seris was on him in an instant, her shadow-claws tearing through his chest. He fell.

The remaining Harvesters saw their leader fall and fled. The stalkers dissolved

without masters to control them.

The vault was theirs.

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