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Pioneer of Ascension

Just three centuries ago, this world was like any other, magic and spirits considered fantasy, as steel and blood decided the era. Yet ever since that day, the trans-formative 'Flux' has flooded the world, turning beasts to demons, the elements conscious, and the humans... —— Follow the boy with no name from the village of Rehall as he is taken to an institute of the King to become a fierce and loyal soldier, all the while pioneering a new path of ascension. **** Author note: PoA is currently on indefinite hiatus as I work on Brink of Dawn, another title on this site.

Chalky · Oriental
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142 Chs

Deceit

Within the second Shard of Truth, the reflected image of Lucian bore many black spots throughout his body. All of them were tiny, small things, but that did not mean they were unimportant.

The truth of the shard was made clear in his mind.

His cultivation was flawed.

Not any great and crippling imperfection, but small things that would become weaknesses as he continued down his road of cultivation.

Feeling within himself for the spots that shone as black in the reflection, Lucian realised what they were. They were imperfections from the Fundamental realm. Small nooks and crannies in his body that were hard to reach. They had not been refined to their fullest extent in the fundamental realm, and so could not support the same level of power as the majority of his physique.

Most could be found in the muscles and skin, as refining those included a set of physical stretches that perhaps Lucian had not performed well enough.

Despite having the flaws of his work pointed out, Lucian smiled. He was glad they'd been pointed out now, and not in the 4th stage, or resolving the issue would not have been simple at all.

Standing before the second shard he had approached, Lucian began to perform slow, deep stretches, absorbing qi for the first time since the fundamental realm, and directing it to those black spots that were difficult to reach without the stretching.

Even though he had no extra experience handling qi, his expertise in controlling all manner of energies had increased exponentially in the past decade, and he was able to absorb and control far more qi, performing the refinements much faster now. 

When he was done, Lucian once again enriched those black spots with lifeforce and deathfog, finally perfecting his fundamental refinements.

In total, it took no more than an hour. A simple thing really, but potentially disastrous if he'd not caught it. That was the nature of small imperfections. Even with a great deal of experts watching his cultivation, they could go unnoticed by all until it was too late.

When he had finished, the Shard of Truth became transparent like the first, no longer reflecting a clear image.

Lucian smiled and circulated power throughout his body, muscles tensing and releasing with power as he felt the condition of his body, realizing a discomfort that he'd never noticed before, had disappeared. His body transferred power more smoothly now, and he loved that feeling.

Moving to the third shard, he continued his introspective refinement.

The third shard pointed out a flaw in his sword forms, while the fourth confronted him with his lack of long range ability. Every Truth, even simple things like these would invade his heart as devils if he let them, but only if he allowed it. Lucian took the revelations in stride, deciding to work on the former while keeping an eye on his ranged capability and possible solutions.

So long as he did not allow them to stick, the Truths would remain in his heart but never haunt him. Not all Truths were simple flaws however, some required true honesty to oneself, whether in deciding on change, or to remain content, and any attempt to ignore them would breed too great a devil in the heart..

The fifth shard delivered one such Truth to Lucian. In it, he saw a reflection of himself, holding a black curtain over his own eyes. The Truth of the shard sung clearly in his mind with no room for doubt or misunderstanding.

Self-deceit.

**

Within the imperial capital of the Toubia Empire, 5th Dragon of the Imperial Crown, Horst, battled alongside one other against four incredibly skilled opponents, each garbed in luxurious armor and vibrant silks of similar design to his own.

His brothers and sisters, the Imperial Dragons.

Four of them stood against the two who defended the Empress and three children, the oldest of which lay badly wounded.

"Rayner! You've taught the first prince personally for years, why are you doing this?" Horst called in outrage.

Rayner, a man of slim but fit build, wielding a quarterstaff in hand, spoke with an understanding tone.

"Horst, you don't understand. You've never let yourself understand. This is beyond us. If we lose this war, what future awaits us? When the outsiders descend in truth, and our world is dominated, we must be on the side of the victor. We must!"

"What does that have to do w–"

"It is the guardians will, Horst!"

That declaration gave Horst a moment of shocked pause as his eyes widened. His brothers and sisters, the four Dragons that stood opposite him gave understanding looks each, but the fierceness beneath their eyes did not vanish.

"Alram will lose, Horst. He cannot survive this night. The heirs, my disciple more than any other, are too great a risk to leave alive, you know this."

"Horseshit!" Leon, the only one of the Six Dragons that stood by him called in anger and derision.

"Children and women, every one of them. Is it for this you trained your martial skill in the Imperial Gardens Rayner?!"

The man, Rayner, lost the understanding look in his eyes as he turned to face Leon.

"You're an ignorant fool Leon. Think of your son before acting so blindly."

Horst felt his teeth clench at that. He had no family of his own, but he considered Leon's son, Leo, his nephew, as if of the same blood. The boy was safe at the moment, on a mission with the Voidwalker Sect, but if it was known that Leon was killed by the other Dragons…

"Horst, please listen to me." A mental communication rang in his mind, disturbing his thoughts.

"Your majesty?" He glanced back to the empress. As a woman of Nalduri royalty, she bore tanned skin, lighter than the Great Guardian's brown, and long dark brown hair. Peculiar though, were her vibrant purple eyes, a feature shared by most Nalduri royalty.

"Take Mat and Carina, flee to Nalduri, they'll be safe there."

Horst felt a sad resignation as his eyes met the fierce look of the Empress'. Mat and Carina were the second prince and first princess; 3 and 14 years each. She knew he would have little chance of saving the first prince or herself.

Horst had no time to consider the ramifications of that action or the fate that would await the empress and the first prince, as the four Dragons opposite them attacked again, realizing they had communicated in secret.

The empress stepped forward and her cultivation rolled waves of power as she entered the fray, but even with the exceptional arts she practiced, her 4th stage cultivation would prove little benefit against the Dragons, each a 5th stage expert.

"Go!" She yelled, as Horst clenched his teeth.

First the Emperor, and now the Empress, why is it always he that must flee.

Grabbing the two frightened children and lifting them, Horst made to escape, his retreat covered by the Empress and Leon, who both destabilized their cultivation to produce final, marvelous feats of power.

They would die. And he would run. Again.

**

The fifth shard reflected light on something Lucian had not allowed himself to recognize, something he had deceived himself to mask.

Uncontrollably, he recalled his loathing and dismissal of the village men from Rehall, and their lack of ambition.

He remembered his oath never to become stagnant, and how he'd felt they were wasting their lives, giving in to the circumstances forged for them by their surroundings and their seniors.

When he had heard their ambitions, their talks of finishing the apprenticeship others lined up for them, doing the job chosen by others, and then marrying, having kids for the village and dying, he'd felt a discomfort, something he didn't understand at the time that he masked as loathing for the unambitious.

But now, under the reflections of the Shard of Truth, Lucian knew himself.

From young, others had decided his life. In the village, Helga had decided to teach him to read and write, and make him apprentice to the chief when he was of age. When he was found to be a metahuman, Chief Warner decided he would be of service to the King.

In the estate, most important decisions were left to the instructors, leaving Lucian only the short-term choices for himself. In his future, he would continue to follow the circumstances of his surroundings, to serve the crown, likely as a bodyguard of some kind.

He repeated to himself quite often that serving the crown would be exciting, that he wanted to stand at the top of the world beside the king, but…

The reflection in the shard lowered the black curtain he used to deceive himself, and Lucian was met with truth.

He did not care about the ambitions, or lack thereof, held by village men. He had no reason to, it was not his life to decide on. But their resignation to circumstance rang too deeply in his heart, and Lucian now knew why.

He felt restricted.

For all his talk of standing side by side with the king and looking over the world, he cared little for it. His ambitions were great, yes. He wanted to soar as high as he could in life and explore everything his existence had to offer.

Perhaps, he could only hold that dream because the crown had done so much for him, and had changed his viewpoint on the world so completely. But…

He felt restricted.

One year of freedom.

After ten years of confinement to the rules and bounds of the estate, he was allowed one year to do as he wished before returning. But what if his ambitions lay beyond the restrictions of his job? Beyond the bounds of the Demia kingdom, or perhaps even beyond the bounds of this world?

He didn't know if he would ever achieve something like that, but the chains that bound him felt uncomfortable.

He did not loath the unambitious, he just could not understand them. What he loathed was the idea of growing stagnant, content with following his circumstances and serving his 'role' until the day he died, like the carpenter's apprentice of Rehall.

But knowing truth did not resolve the issue, and Lucian felt it seeding itself in the bottom of his heart, or the back of his mind.

He wanted to be free. Truly free.

But he owed too much, and had become too tied to the crown.

He sat down silently before the fifth shard, dwelling on the matter. And there he sat for a very, long time.

It was a month later that Lucian turned to look back at the fifth shard once more, his eyes were tired and his expression unsure.

His loyalty had never been tested before, not truly, and so Lucian had no idea if he was a loyal person or not. He'd always assumed he was, but had never let himself think about betraying the expectations of the crown anyway, and so he'd never struggled with the idea.

Now, forced to confront his desire for freedom, Lucian knew himself.

He was loyal.

He wanted to do as he pleased and roam the world like an unfettered immortal from legend, but he was a man, and he had debts to repay, expectations to meet, and responsibilities to keep.

'One day, when I've paid back all I owe with interest, and I can leave with a clean conscience, I will go my own way. I will not surrender to circumstance, but I refuse to turn my back after receiving so much.'

He felt the seed of doubt fading in his mind, not disappearing completely, and not vanishing to the same extent as the blue eyes that judged his morality, but fading nonetheless. He would not be haunted, not until the day he lied to himself once more.