CHAPTER 212: THE THRESHOLD OF LINEN AND FOG

Satisfied with his harvest, Caius withdrew his consciousness from the Mind Sea Temple. The grand image of the Celestial Shadow Wolf and the three remaining open sockets faded back into the depths of his Crown Core, replaced once more by the cold, damp reality of the physical world.

He stood up on the basalt crags, his light obsidian armor adjusting silently to his frame. Having secured an entire sovereign pack of spatial wolves inside his domain and harvested ten four-eyed stalker carcasses, he turned his gaze deeper into the valley, toward the innermost depths of the Abyss where even the stalkers feared to tread.

He moved silently through the time-worn crags, descending into a sunken expanse where the atmosphere grew suffocatingly dense.

Before him lay a wall of thick, motionless fog. Unlike the shifting gray mist of the outer ruins, this fog was pitch-black, silent, and heavy with an ancient, primordial aura.

Caius stopped at the edge, his Eye of the Loom flaring purple as he stared into the shroud. This was the place.

Five years ago, his father and mother had walked directly into this impenetrable void. Five years later, his father had emerged alone, his expression hollowed out, his body wrapped in coarse black linen, and his lips forever sealed regarding the fate of Caius’s mother.

A quiet, burning intensity flickered in Caius’s chest. He stepped forward and reached out his gauntleted hand, pressing his palm against the boundary of the dark mist.

This story has been stolen from NovelPhoenix. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

The moment his fingers made contact, the fog violently recoiled before pushing back with immense, oppressive force.

A ripple of absolute spatial distortion surged through his arm, rejecting his entry. His Black Core flared defensively, but the sheer weight of the barrier rendered even his Crown Core’s intent ineffective. He was not being attacked; he was simply being denied.

Before he could force his way through with his thread arts, an ancient, echoing voice resonated directly within his mind sea, heavy as an imperial mandate.

Enter when you are ready and have settled all affairs in your realm.

Caius froze, the voice echoing through the hollows of his skull before fading into complete silence.

He stared at the black fog for a long moment, feeling the undeniable truth behind the warning. The secrets buried behind this wall, and the truth of what had happened to his mother, demanded total strength and an absolute foundation. Going deeper now would be premature when his conquest above was far from complete.

"So be it," Caius murmured softly, withdrawing his hand.

He turned his back on the forbidden fog. Raising his right hand, his Crown Core pulsed, and his fingers carved a sharp line through space. Reality tore open with a sharp, static crack, revealing a swirling, purple-lit rift.

Caius stepped through the spatial tear, vanishing from the Abyss.

He emerged into the quiet, dim light of his private underground chamber beneath the castle. The heavy stone walls were lined with suppression runes, ensuring total secrecy.

Caius unclasped his short swords, his eyes glowing with cold determination as he looked at the wide stone floor. He swept his hand over his spatial ring, releasing the ten four-eyed stalker carcasses onto the basalt ground. He raised his hands, black spatial threads coiling around his fingers as he prepared to overwrite their core matrices with Crown intent, weaving these fallen beasts into loyal, autonomous constructs destined to serve their new masters.