Chapter 19: Asylum Soulborne
In this world, the human race once stood divided, fragmented by greed, bloodlines, kingdom. That was before He came. A man of unmatched power and vision who united them beneath a single banner. And thus, the vast realm known only as The Empire was born.
It stretched across continents, swallowing kingdoms and cities until it became the heart of civilization. Within its borders thrived noble houses, commoner provinces, magic tower, knightly orders, and towering cities carved by centuries of conquest and ambition.
But the Empire is not the only dominion that ruled this world.
Far beyond its southern border, hidden in the embrace of the ancient trees, stood the untouched kingdom of the Elves.
Home to both the noble High Elves and the mysterious Dark Elves, their lands shimmered with ageless magic and secrets untouched by mortal hands.
To the east, high above the world, where the clouds drifted like ships and lightning slept within storms, floated islands that defied gravity and logic.
These were the Sky-Islands. fragments of the heavens torn from the world in an ancient age, now suspended eternally above the earth. It was here that the Dragons reigned.
Not as beasts. Not as creatures.
But as Sovereigns.
Each dragon was a force of nature bound in flesh and flame. Their wings could tear storms apart. Their breath could raze cities. Yet they did not involve themselves in mortal squabbles. Proud and eternal, they watched the world from above.
This is the realm known as Drak'Xiun, The Empire of Ashen Wings.
Even those skyborn sovereigns, whose roars once shook continents, eventually bowed to a single mortal.
The man who ascended to godhood.
He who united the fractured human race and carved the path to order. Under his divine will, a treaty was forged
A pact signed by humans, elves, dragons, dwarves, and all other sentient races of the known world.
The Non-Aggression Treaty.
It marked the end of the age of chaos.
But even as peace settled across the lands and skies, one place remained in the north of the world. Vast enough to cover half the planet.
A dark, vast expanse that none could claim nor conquer.
People call it The 'Chasm, The Graveyard of Madness'.
Because even our madness… is nothing compared to what sleeps there.
A place where even the Six Supremes-level warriors vanished without a trace.
And it was here, at the trembling edge of the abyss, that a family stood guard for generations.
The Northern family, The Noctvain Family.
* * *
Deep within the Chasm, Graveyard of Madness, near the northern border of the Empire, a dark ritual was taking place.
A circle of hooded figures knelt among twisted ruins, their faces hidden in shadow. A low, eerie chant echoed through the cold, restless wind.
In front of them, a black fire burned, flickering with unnatural life.
One of the hooded figures smiled. He brushed back a strand of hair and whispered, his voice cutting through the chant:
"Xel'nor akai Vru'um tahn…
Kael'dros nih varun'el…
Shaal'thek uven drakh'maar…
Zun'tar Asylum... vek'rath tul'nar!"
The fire pulsed violently.
Shadows writhed. The ground trembled.
At the center of the ritual lay an ancient coffin, sealed with chains and half-buried in black stone.
"varun'lahaal'thek uven drakh"
As the chanting deepened, the chains rattled.
The lid cracked.
A foul wind rushed out, reeking of rot and ruin.
Something inside moved.
With a sound like bones grinding together,
the coffin burst open...
and it rose...
A massive figure, twisted and grotesque.
Its skin was like ash-covered stone,
its breath a low, rumbling growl.
Two dead eyes opened, glowing faintly in the dark.
It had slumbered for centuries beneath the Graveyard of Madness.
Then it laughed.
"Grrrhehh… heh… HEHEHEHEHHH!"
The sound chilled the air.
A man stepped forward from the circle, eyes wide with madness. He raised his hands and said:
"The doom of the Noctvain family… has awakened."
And around him, the other fanatics began to murmur in unison
"Asylum…Asylum… Asylum… Asylum…"
* * *
The Noctvain household was vast, its estate divided into multiple buildings, each serving a specific purpose.
There was a residential sector where Naoki lived, further split between direct and indirect descendants. Other sectors included law enforcement quarters, the patriarch's office, a grand warehouse, the knight dormitories, and a sprawling training hall etc.
Beneath the patriarch's office, hidden deep underground, was a secret facility, heavily guarded and rigged with countless traps. At the heart of it lay the armory, a sacred vault that housed the family's most powerful and forbidden artifacts.
Today, Naoki and the Left Guardian descended into those depths, their goal clear: the Evil Commandment Sword.
As they reached the final sealed gate of the armory, a man stood before it. tall, broad-shouldered, and in his early forties. His presence was composed, yet commanding.
He was the Vice Patriarch of the Noctvain family. Lord Theron Noctvain, younger brother of the missing Patriarch.
Since the Patriarch's sudden disappearance three years ago, it was Theron who managed the clan's affairs, maintaining order as acting head.
Naoki stepped forward, bowed deeply, and clapped his hands together in the formal greeting of their world.
"I greet the family's Vice Patriarch."
A warm laugh escaped the man.
"Hohoho, didn't I tell you to call me Uncle?" Theron replied with a smile.
After Naoki's transmigration to this world, he met Theron. who turned out to be a genuinely great man.
Even though Naoki pretended to have lost his memories, the Vice Patriarch showed real concern… even shed tears for him.
Because of that, Naoki couldn't help but like him.
Though, his wife was a different story.
She had her eyes set on making their son the next successor of the Noctvain family and that made things complicated.
The Left Guardian and the Vice Patriarch exchanged greetings as well. Short, respectful, and familiar.
After that, the heavy doors creaked open, revealing the path to the vault.
Without wasting time, they stepped inside.
"Wow… is this heaven?"
Naoki whispered in awe, his eyes wide as he stepped into the vault.
Since he had started learning mana arts and swordsmanship, he'd grown more and more fascinated by weapons and artifacts. But this...this was something else entirely.
The room was massive, lined with polished walls and bathed in a soft, mystical glow. Everywhere he looked, there were treasures: armors, gauntlets, swords, rapiers, spears, shields. each one gleaming with power, ancient and sacred.
"Wow… is that a broad blade? Man, how do people even lift that thing?"
"Damn… is this knight armor? I always wanted to try one on…"
Naoki wandered from rack to rack, completely absorbed, his fingers itching to touch everything.
His eyes sparkled like a child in a dream.
In a room filled with weapons of war, Naoki found a strange kind of joy.
.
.
.
.
To be continued....