Rising god-Chapter 138: Successful

Baines sat cross-legged on the mountainside of the Ashenfall ruins, the air thick with breathable violet energy, as if the storm that birthed this place lingered in every gust.

A month ago, he’d delegated tasks to forge the Sky Destroyer and its internet system, focusing on his sixth star formation. What had taken months previously now took just a month.

The energy was palpable, swirling around him like a living current. Shaa. His aura towered, a violet pillar piercing the sky, his soul stirring as his reserves surged. The sixth star took shape, a radiant orb pulsing within his Ashen-Origin Arts.

"Phew..." Baines exhaled, opening his eyes, a flash of violet illuminating the rocky ledge as he took in the view from this point.

The violet moon hung over the ancient city below was such a sight to behold; however, its empty vista mirrored his gaze. Nothing amused him.

There, he reflected on what he had achieved in the year: his magic had reached the sixth circle, still hidden; his Ashenfall hit the sixth star; and his aura, though he hadn’t done anything about it recently, was the next in line. He’d studied Silver techniques, magic engineering, and forged his own techniques, claimed the third Solaris treasure, and opened his second vessel of gore.

He had already achieved everything for the year.

’Ralph should’ve gone far in searching for brother,’ Baines thought, longing for his family. ’Father should be with the Sable Mask bastards, and as for mother and sister, they should be with the Silent Monks.’ He nodded as a clearer plan on what to do formed.

’It won’t be long.’ With a final glance at the moon, he descended, more powerful than when he’d climbed. It was time to return outside.

At the clearing, activity buzzed.

Cores of varying sizes—some fist-sized, others as large as small boulders—glinted with compressed Ashenfall and Weapons, from rune-etched blades to ashenfall-charged spears, were stacked neatly.

In another, the mage unit, cloaked in violet robes that shimmered like liquid starlight, and the alchemic unit, adorned in jewel-encrusted robes, worked with precision.

At the center, wires crisscrossed, feeding into a massive tablet displaying arcane readouts. Vitka stood before it, inputting spellcodes, her eyes reflecting the violet glow.

The whole internet’s procedure was a nine-step process.

The Orion Assembly handled the first two: building the leyline structure and the spirit-linked relay nodes.

The third process, which was the magical binary and spellcode language, was Vitka’s domain, the internet’s backbone, which Eye also helped to advance.

The fourth step was crafting the user interfaces. This was basically what each user would need to access information. The ruinborns forged slates from metal and stone, passed them to the mage unit, who inscribed complex runes on them.

The fifth step was spirit summoning. The wind spirits would act as carriers of information. Each spirit would be assigned to a slate and act as the user’s space.

Creation wasn’t his forte, so he called Ashul.

Edict.

It’s Ashenfall surged, a tempest of violet energy coiling around him, and a majestic scroll materialized above his head, its parchment ancient, glowing with purple runes that pulsed like heartbeats. The air grew heavy, charged with divine authority, as if the storm itself bowed to his command. Every ruinborn, mage, and dragon froze, their eyes locked on the scroll, its presence radiating a primal power that hummed through the clearing. Baines sensed the wind god’s authority within Edict, divine essence of wind, vibrating with untamed gales.

Ashul glided forward, its stone form now fluid, its amethyst eyes blazing, and raised its hands, weaving a spell that tore the air apart. A massive magic circle flared to life behind it, a vortex of violet and silver, its edges crackling with wind and lightning. The circle spun, a portal to another realm, its roar like a thousand tempests unleashed.

Open, Ashul intoned, its voice a resonant boom that shook the ground.

A rush of wind erupted, carrying the scent of storms and ozone, followed by a flood of wind spirits, ethereal forms of swirling gusts, their shapes flickering between humanoid and tempest, their eyes glinting with wild energy.

The alchemic units sprang into action, their tablets glowing with containment runes. The spirits, drawn to the slates’ arcane pull, vanished inside, each becoming a library for data, their essence bound to the devices. Alchemists etched mana-based communication protocols, their tools sparking as runes glowed, enabling spirits to process and transmit information.

The spirits would understand what was written to them, and that was how data was sent, received, and interpreted.

Baines observed for a few hours, then set up the security layer for the magical binary, weaving runes to block corrupt spells or malicious bindings.

The magic circle remained open, spirits fueling not just the internet but the Sky Destroyer and future projects.

The eighth step, Magical IP addresses used runes tied to individual mana patterns to track users’ records, maintain security, and track usage. Just like the bloodline hybrid system, but a smaller and less detailed version.

In all this, what did Eye do? It made the power source for each slate, and connected to those power sources was a single nano that would display what they wanted to see. The nano-cells were set to detonate upon the slightest tamper.

Finally, Ashul and the dragons erected a thirty-meter tower, its rune-covered surface pulsing as the central hub for relay nodes.

After two days, Baines gently stored everything—cores, weapons, slates—in his pocket space. The work was unfinished but would continue in dawnless. He nodded to Ashul and led the mage and alchemic units back, the dragons trailing silently, but he didn’t say anything about it.

Just like before, they got into the large underground space and appeared back in the empty house.

In the underground chamber, Baines drew a magic circle from his coordinates book. His destination: Dawnless.

***

In Dawnless, Ralph spent the month tending to Heartflame’s rescued patients, their bodies ravaged by experiments. Some awoke briefly, only to collapse again, but none exploded or dissolved.

Entering their rune-lit ward, his gaze settled on a little girl, about six years girl, at the far end of the room. Her purple hair and eyes were vivid proof that the experiments had succeeded on her.

She sat, knees drawn up, silent and wary.

"Hey, how are you?" Ralph asked, sitting on her bed. She flinched, her eyes guarded.

He smiled softly. "You know, when I was young, my brother was your age. I used to chase him with a stick, and he’d run until he collapsed, laughing. My sister swung her sword endlessly, and my older brother loved machines."

Her eyes softened, drawn to the story.

Ralph’s voice grew heavy. "But one day, I was taken, so was my older brother. My sister lost her leg, and my younger brother was alone, just like you. "

Her eyes widened at the story. Even after facing such experiments, she couldn’t imagine such cruelty.

"Now, he’s out there, risking everything to reunite us. That jolly boy of those years was gone. Now, I don’t want the same for you. That is why I will tell you now. I’ll do my best to find your family."

She cried as he left, her silence breaking.

When Ralph came two days later, she wore a more decent face and even tried to smile. A week later, she finally opened up, "My mum, she is a princess."

Two days later, she wore a tentative smile, and a week later, she finally spoke up. "My mum was a princess."

"A princess?" Ralph’s heart sank. ’They experiment on their own?’ Their brutality was severe.

"Yes," she said. "The king was her dad, but mum didn’t like him, so she left to have me. But one day I didn’t see mum again, they said she left me."

"Who said that?"

"The people putting things in my body,"

"The people who... put things in you?" Ralph asked.

She nodded.

’Oh, her captors? If the experiment is on the order of the king, and the same people caught her, then there’s a chance her mother is still alive.’

"She didn’t leave you," Ralph said. "We’ll find her, alright?"

She nodded, hope flickering. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

***

In a shadowy Dawnless corner, a hundred members gathered around the man who’d challenged Ralph.

"I’ll request a meeting," he declared, his voice low but fervent. "Those who don’t want to be bound by this organization’s goals, join me. With us as foundation, we’ll build something greater, not this rubbish prison we are trapped in." He clenched his fist, eyes gleaming.

"Yesssssss!" his followers cheered, their voices echoing as he marched toward the central building, rebellion brewing in his heart.

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