The sun had already climbed high above the mountains, its light spilling gently across the valley that had moments ago been a battlefield. The scent of burnt soil and ozone still lingered, but the world itself seemed calmer — as if the heavens had drawn a deep breath after witnessing something extraordinary.
Jeff lay sprawled on the ground, chest rising and falling, his staff lying beside him like a discarded relic. The main character sat nearby, legs crossed, eyes closed in meditation. His breathing was slow, deliberate — each inhale and exhale tugged faint ripples of mana from the air, drawing them into his body.
His uncle stood a few steps away, silent, arms behind his back. His long robe fluttered faintly in the wind. His gaze, however, wasn't on the scenery — it was fixed on his nephew.
The chaos within that boy… it wasn't fading.
It was sleeping — for now.
After some time, Jeff finally broke the silence. "Okay… remind me next time not to spar with someone who can accidentally nuke a mountain."
The main character opened one eye, half amused. "You offered the duel."
"Yeah, yeah," Jeff groaned, rolling to sit up. "Remind me again why I didn't just stay in bed this morning?"
The uncle's voice interrupted, calm but heavy with authority. "Because you both needed this."
Jeff frowned. "Needed to almost die?"
"Needed to understand," the uncle corrected, turning to face them. His golden eyes gleamed faintly under the sun. "You two have been walking blind through powers older than this world. It is time you knew why chaos dwells within him… and why the heavens themselves have not erased it."
The main character slowly stood, brushing dirt from his cloak. "You mean the chaos… the demon that's been sealed inside me?"
The uncle nodded. "Yes. But it is not merely a demon, child. It is a remnant of something far greater."
---
The air seemed to grow colder. Even the wind quieted, as if listening.
The uncle began to speak slowly, his words carrying weight like the toll of ancient bells.
"A hundred thousand years ago," he said, "the world was still young. The sky had not yet chosen its gods, and the earth had not yet birthed cultivators. There existed a being beyond the concept of life or death — the Chaos Monarch. He was not born of creation; he was creation's imperfection. When the heavens forged order, chaos was cast aside — but never destroyed."
Jeff blinked. "You mean… that thing inside him is connected to a god?"
The uncle shook his head. "Not a god. Something older. When the Chaos Monarch fell, his power splintered into fragments. Some were lost to the void, others sealed by the heavenly law. But one fragment… survived. It took root in mortal blood. A curse, and a gift."
He turned toward his nephew. "That blood now flows in you."
The main character's heart pounded. "So… I'm his descendant?"
"In essence, yes," the uncle said quietly. "But it is not lineage alone. Every hundred thousand years, the heavens test the balance of existence. They allow a vessel of chaos to be born into the mortal world. If that vessel succumbs to corruption, chaos devours creation. If he resists… the world endures another age of order."
"So I'm… a test?" the main character said bitterly. "A toy for the heavens to judge?"
The uncle's eyes softened, though his tone remained steady. "A trial, not a toy. The heavens do not create chaos — they merely observe whether mortals can overcome it."
Jeff whistled low. "That's messed up. So basically, if he loses control, we all die. Nice."
The uncle didn't answer. His silence was confirmation enough.
---
The main character clenched his fists. "Then why didn't you tell me this before? Why seal me, make me live in ignorance?"
The uncle looked away, his expression unreadable. "Because when you were five, you massacred an entire village. Your parents — martial artists, not cultivators — begged me to save you. You were too young to bear the truth. The seal wasn't meant to imprison you. It was meant to give you time… to grow strong enough to face it."
The words struck deep.
The wind carried them through the valley like whispers of memory.
The main character closed his eyes, recalling flashes of blood and screams, the scent of smoke, his mother's tears. "So all this time… I wasn't cursed. I was the curse."
Jeff frowned, standing up. "Hey, stop talking like that. You didn't choose it."
He looked at the main character with an uncharacteristically serious face. "You're alive now, aren't you? You've got control, friends, a chance to change what that power means. That's not a curse — that's responsibility."
The main character looked at him, surprised by his tone. Jeff smiled faintly. "Yeah, yeah, don't look at me like that. I can be serious sometimes."
The uncle chuckled softly — a rare sound. "He's right, you know. The heavens may have given you chaos, but it is your heart that decides what it becomes."
He then turned, looking toward the horizon where the sun began to set. "But remember, this balance is fragile. The more you draw upon chaos, the closer it will come to breaking free again. And next time, not even I may be able to restrain it."
The main character nodded slowly. "Then I'll have to master it before that happens."
Jeff raised a brow. "Master chaos? Sounds easy. Like taming a thunderstorm with a spoon."
"Then I'll just need a bigger spoon," the main character said dryly, and Jeff snorted out a laugh.
---
The uncle, however, remained solemn. "There is more. The heavens' trial does not end with control. To overcome chaos, you must understand its origin — not just in the world, but in yourself. Every vessel of chaos faces seven trials that mirror the seven basic elements. Fire to test wrath. Water to test sorrow. Wind to test freedom. Earth to test endurance. Light to test truth. Darkness to test fear. And nature… to test one's will to live."
He looked directly at his nephew. "You must pass them all. Only then will you ascend beyond chaos itself — and become something the heavens cannot judge."
Jeff blinked. "Wait. Seven trials? Is that, like, a quest? Because that sounds like a quest."
The main character gave a tired smile. "Then I guess it's time to start one."
The uncle nodded approvingly. "We will begin soon. But rest for now. Your body is still recovering, and your spirit must stabilize. Chaos feeds on fatigue and despair. You must remain centered."
Jeff stretched his arms, yawning. "Yeah, let's rest. My everything hurts."
The main character looked up at the darkening sky. The clouds were clearing, revealing a faint shimmer of stars. For the first time in a long while, he didn't see them as distant — but as destinations.
The heavens were watching him.
But he would watch them back.
---
That night, as the others slept, the main character sat alone on a rock overlooking the valley. His reflection glimmered faintly in a small pool of water nearby — his eyes shifting between violet and red as moonlight touched them.
He whispered to himself, "A trial of the heavens, huh… then I'll make sure I pass."
From deep within his soul, a faint echo stirred.
A voice — ancient, mocking, and proud.
"We'll see, little mortal… we'll see if your will is stronger than mine."
The main character didn't flinch. He simply smiled faintly. "Then watch me."
The stars blinked above, as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his defiance.