Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 1022: When Power Awakens

Kelaric's expression turned ugly.

He clearly wasn't willing to accept failing like this, so he gathered power again—several times stronger than before—and drove it down through his palm into the altar with brutal force.

This time, the runes on the altar lit up again.

But the result was even worse.

The runes glowed, yes, but the altar no longer had the ability to convert that power into the structure needed to open a passage. Energy churned inside it, collapsing, scattering, leaking out in streams—yet no true dimensional rift formed.

In the end, the light dimmed.

The whole altar fell silent again.

Zyraeth stood to the side, watching the entire process. At last, he let out a slow breath. He stepped forward and lightly patted Kelaric on the shoulder. There wasn't any blame in his voice—more the calm of someone who'd already reached a conclusion.

"This altar's been abandoned for too long," he said.

He lowered his eyes to the ancient runes—so shattered they were almost unrecognizable—and a faint trace of regret flickered deep within his gaze.

"The reason you were able to tear open that dimensional rift before was probably because you accidentally triggered whatever fragments of the rune structure were still intact." He paused, tone even steadier. "But the damage is too severe."

"It can't support a second opening."

Kelaric's face tightened with helpless frustration.

He'd personally used this place to reach Emerald Castle—yet now he could only stand in front of a ruined altar and watch the road that should've existed vanish again right in front of him.

At this point, there wasn't much left to say. He could only step back in silence.

But right then, Khar'vathis looked like something had jabbed him straight in the nerves. He suddenly lunged forward a step and dropped flat to the ground.

"Master!"

His voice was urgent—excited, too.

"I remember there used to be many altars like this." He lifted his head, anticipation almost spilling out of him. "If the runes here could still work once, then the other altars—couldn't they possibly be activated too?"

This time, Zyraeth didn't answer immediately.

He slowly rubbed his chin, silent for a few seconds, then shook his head.

"No."

His tone was calm, and definitive.

"The other altars are damaged at least ten times worse than this one." His gaze swept across the dead, broken turbulence-ruins in the distance. "This place still preserved a recognizable rune framework. The others—were completely destroyed a long time ago."

He paused, and at last there was a deeper caution in his voice.

"It seems that if we truly intend to wage war on Emerald Castle, we'll need a genuinely thorough preparation."

As soon as he said that, everyone understood.

At least in the short term, they couldn't rely on an altar route like this to launch a direct surprise strike on Emerald Castle. Any real war would have to return to the original path—the hardest, the most dangerous, and the most time-consuming one—to be planned and executed.

So most people didn't say anything further.

They began to withdraw, preparing to leave this abandoned altar region—clearly no longer worth continued attempts—with Zyraeth.

But just as everyone turned—

a blinding pillar of light appeared between heaven and earth.

It came without warning, like it had been projected straight down from a higher-dimensional space, spearing clean through the turbulence-filled firmament. The energy it gave off wasn't frenzied at all. It carried a scalp-numbing purity instead.

And because it was pure—

it was even more terrifying.

Everyone could feel it with brutal clarity: the might contained in that column of light was enough to erase this entire region in one stroke.

As the group was preparing to depart the abandoned altar, the pillar only grew more dazzling.

It didn't rise from any fixed direction. It felt more like Elysion's origin had been forcibly pierced at a single instant—its most core power ripped open and exposed.

It connected above and below. Space around it was lit to the point of transparency. Even the dimensional turbulence in the distance—always chaotic, always restless—fell into a brief, unnatural silence.

Zyraeth's eyes widened.

For the first time, that gaze—usually deep as night—flared with excitement that was almost completely undisguised.

"Never thought…" he murmured, his voice trembling with something close to fanatic heat, "that this world's Primordial Force would stay dormant for so long, only to erupt at a moment like this."

The next second, he snapped an arm up, his voice dropping like a weight on everyone present.

"Everyone—move. Now!"

His eyes stayed locked on the pillar. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"No matter the cost, we take the Primordial Force from there!"

In Elysion, everyone understood what origin energy meant. This world was strange by nature, adrift in dimensional turbulence, and the Primordial Force it nurtured was frighteningly powerful. Now that such a force had revealed itself without warning, Zyraeth didn't dare delay for even an instant.

They moved almost all at once.

Following the direction of the pillar, they tore through warped spatial layers and crossed floating, fractured landmasses. It didn't take long before they reached an ancient region that had long since collapsed into ruins.

And the pillar of light stood right in the center of it.

It was silent, almost too quiet—its surface showing barely any excess fluctuation. Yet the aura bleeding out of it was strong enough to make your scalp prickle. Just getting a little closer made the energy structures inside your body—structures that should've been stable—start to stir on their own, as if starving to be filled again.

Greed rose in everyone's eyes, uncontrollable.

Even so, not a single person dared rush in blindly.

The stronger something was, the less likely it was to come without a price. So, one by one, those gazes shifted toward Zyraeth, waiting for him to judge it himself.

A few seconds passed before Zyraeth finally stepped forward.

He didn't move quickly, but the entire region quieted without anyone meaning to. He stopped in front of the pillar, raised his hand, and slowly reached his palm into the light.

The moment he made contact, a violent force detonated.

Heaven and earth shook together. Vast energy patterns lit up from the ground and from deep inside the ruins, like a system that had slept for ages had just been forced awake.

But Zyraeth didn't retreat.

If anything, the expression on his face grew more satisfied.

"This power…" He let out a slow breath, heavy with delight. "It's rich. Extremely rich."

He turned his head and looked back at the others.

"Enough to last us a long time."

Then he gave the order without hesitation.

"Gather everyone. Bring them here to absorb it."

This time, nobody could suppress their desire anymore. Almost the instant the command fell, everyone crowded around the pillar and sat down, absorbing the origin energy pouring out of it with zero restraint.

For a time, the entire ruin flickered bright and dim under branching energy veins of different colors—like an ancient battlefield waking back up.