Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 271. Path of Ascension!

"You are one piece of work, aren't you, Arawn?" Wannre clicked her tongue as though I had just committed some small but irritating crime.

I chuckled lightly, not even bothering to deny it. "So I've been told."

She rolled her eyes, though a faint grin tugged at her lips before she smoothed it away. "Anyways, let's get to the basics of elements and their powers. Since you're under my tutelage, you'll hear it straight from me."

Her fingers began to twirl lazily in the air, circling in a slow clockwise pattern, almost as if she were shaping her words with motion.

I straightened unconsciously, my full attention locked on her. Each syllable that left her lips, I treated like it was the question in a final exam worth my entire future—because, well, in a way, it was.

"Basically, as I said before, every species possesses something unique. Some inherent trait that marks them apart from the rest. However—"

She leaned back in her chair, expression sharpening, "—no matter how wildly diverse those traits may be, there is one law. A commandment, ironclad, binding all without exception."

Her finger stilled mid-air as if punctuating the weight of her words.

I nodded firmly, signaling that she had my undivided attention.

"That law," she continued smoothly, "is affinity. Every living being is attuned to an element. It doesn't matter if you're human, merfolk, beast, or something stranger—one way or another, there is an element that answers to you more easily than the others. Some have one. A few rare individuals have two, sometimes three, depending on their constitution."

"Constitution?" I echoed quietly.

She acknowledged the question with a tilt of her chin. "Yes. What exactly is constitution? Truthfully, even the Ancestral Codex—written by fossils so old they would make me look like a blooming flower—never managed to give a satisfactory answer. They filled page after page with what they called 'profound insights,' most of which amounted to poetic ramblings about the profundities of the cosmos. Beautiful, yes. Practical? Not in the slightest."

Her lips curled wryly, though her gaze shifted toward the window, lingering there as if the sight of the ocean carried memories better left untouched. She allowed the silence to stretch for a breath before looking back at me.

"Still," she went on, "across all their meanderings, those ancient theorists did arrive at one convergence point. A consensus, if you will. And it is this: everything—absolutely everything, whether tangible or intangible, organic or inorganic—is a composition of the cosmos itself. Every grain of sand, every drop of water, every breath, every thought… all woven from the same threads. Yet within that composition, some threads run thicker than others. Certain elements dominate the weave, giving shape and influence to the whole."

I leaned forward slightly. Her words painted an image in my mind, something like a tapestry made of countless colored threads, some standing out brighter and bolder while others faded into the background.

"In short," she said, her voice smooth and deliberate, "your affinity is nothing more—and nothing less—than the element whose influence runs strongest through your constitution. The part of the cosmos that weighs heaviest in your existence."

It was a strange explanation, abstract yet intuitive. And somehow, it clicked.

I mulled it over, connecting the dots. Species-specific affinities suddenly made sense. Merfolk, for example—their very lives revolved around the sea. It wasn't merely habit or environment but constitution itself. Their bodies and souls were steeped in water's essence, their very being tilted toward that element from birth. That was why water answered them so faithfully.

"…It fits," I muttered under my breath, almost to myself.

"Of course it fits." Wannre's eyes narrowed, lips quirking into a smirk that danced on the line between smug and amused. "Did you expect the explanation of me to be anything less?"

I ignored the jab, still digesting the concept.

Her expression shifted suddenly—sharp amusement flickered across her features, and she scoffed. "But your reaction doesn't suit my taste. Honestly, you're far too calm. Too… accepting. Do you realize what I just shared? This is no trivial detail, no common classroom lesson. This is a secret only my closest aides are permitted to hear. And here you sit, nodding like a polite student at a lecture."

I arched a brow. "You wanted me to fall out of my chair?"

"Yes!" she snapped, throwing her hands up. "At least look surprised. Widen those eyes, drop your jaw, let me bask in the satisfaction of blowing your mind. You're more than capable of showing surprise, I've seen it. So do it now!"

Honestly, I was starting to realize there were tangible benefits to being around her. As much as her personality could grate on my nerves, antagonizing her outright wasn't in my best interest. At least, not yet.

So, with a resigned sigh, I did what she asked for.

"Aha! Such words… I am so deeply touched that words alone cannot capture the depths of my surprise and reverence. Lady Wannre, no, Empress Wannre—truly you are magnanimous beyond compare. Being your disciple has already begun reshaping the way I see the world. Not only are you devastatingly beautiful, but also staggeringly intellectual… even if you are, regrettably, a fossil."

"Ahahahahaha!"

Her laughter rang out loud and unrestrained, echoing against the chamber's water-filled walls. It wasn't the soft, ladylike laugh one might expect from someone so composed. No, hers was hearty, boisterous, and dripping with amusement, like the crashing tide breaking against stone.

"I like that," she finally said, eyes narrowing with playful delight. "Even if you're just testing the limits of my self-control with your sharp tongue, I can still admit I'm pleased. Good work. With a little more practice, you'll learn how to properly shower someone with praises. Keep at it, my dear disciple."

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to hide it. She enjoyed poking at me, and I wasn't about to deny her the satisfaction of my irritation.

Snickering once more, she finally composed herself and waved her hand. "Alright, enough fun. Back to the matter at hand."

Her tone shifted, serious now. I straightened my back, fixing my posture as if preparing for a lecture.

She folded her hands in front of her and leaned forward slightly. "Tell me, you must have heard the phrase: 'becoming one with where you came from.'"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "I've read it from Denus the Revolutionary, and it was written in the Ancestral Codex as well."

Her lips curved in satisfaction. "Exactly. That phrase is no poetic whim. It is truth. The path of ascension, the path of mastery, the path of oneness, they all converge at that same destination. Why, you ask? Because, as I told you before, everything—tangible or intangible, organic or inorganic—was wrought from the elements of the cosmos. Stone, flame, wind, shadow, even thought itself. To ascend, to grow, to sharpen one's edge, is to peel back the separation between self and element. To gain power is to return to origin. To become one with where you came from… which is to say, the cosmos itself."

Her words rippled with weight, sinking into me like lead.

I leaned forward, finishing for her. "And the most direct way to do that is to amplify the prominence of one's affinity. By surrendering to it. By becoming indistinguishable from it."

Her gaze flicked toward me, unreadable but approving.

"For the merfolk," I continued slowly, my voice lowering as the realization sat heavier on my chest, "that means becoming one with water. Dissolving the line between flesh and tide until they are the same thing. For me…"

My lips curled faintly, but there was no humor in my tone.

"For me, it means becoming one with nothing."

The silence that followed was suffocating.