Chapter 12: Truth Beyond Legacy
After a brief silence, Ansh spoke again.
"Then I'll reach it."
The old butler looked at him.
For the first time—
there was no hesitation in his eyes.
Only certainty.
And in that moment, something shifted.
The heir of the Ashbound family had finally taken his first step.
After this, Ansh started telling him what he knew.
The old butler was not an ordinary man.
Long before Ansh was born, before even his father had taken his first breath, the old man had already been tied to the Ashbound family. He had once served Ansh's great-grandfather—the last true bearer of their ancient legacy. Under him, he had been trained, not just as a servant, but as a guardian. And in rare moments of trust, the great ancestor had revealed fragments of the truth.
Fragments… but never the whole story.
He knew the Ashbound bloodline was special—dangerously special.
He knew they were once powerful beyond imagination.
And he knew that their fall had not been an accident.
But that was all.
The deeper truths—the origin of their power, the structure of the universe, the reason behind their annihilation—those secrets had died with Mr. Alok.
Or so he believed.
Everything changed after that day.
The day Ansh got to know the secret.
He didn't know who told him—but he knew it was related to the pendant.
"There's more," Ansh said quietly.
The old man looked at him, his gaze sharp.
"More than what my master told me?"
Ansh nodded.
"What you were told… was only a fraction."
And so, he began.
He spoke of the universe—not as a single endless expanse, but as a structure divided into five distinct realms:
Outer Space.
Inner Space.
Innermost Space.
Lower Space.
And the Core Space.
Each realm represented a different level of existence—a hierarchy of power where even the strongest beings of one realm would be insignificant in the next.
"The Ashbound family," Ansh said, "once stood at the very top of the Innermost Space."
The old butler's expression stiffened.
"That much… I knew," he admitted.
"But not what it truly meant."
Ansh's eyes darkened slightly.
"It meant they were feared by everything."
He then revealed the truth behind their destruction—not just enemies, but entire factions uniting to erase them.
Their bloodline itself had been deemed too dangerous to exist.
"Because of what we are," Ansh continued, "we are rejected by the System."
At the mention of the System, the old man frowned.
That mysterious force—
one that granted power, skills, and growth to every individual in the world.
The very foundation of strength in this era.
"Everyone is given a chance by it," the old butler said slowly.
"Everyone… except…"
"Except us," Ansh finished.
Silence followed.
For the first time—
the old man began to understand the true weight of the Ashbound name.
But Ansh wasn't done.
"There's something else," he said.
Something worse.
He explained what would happen when this world ascended—
a future event that could arrive at any time.
When it did…
the System would not bless the world.
It would test it.
A trial would begin.
Monsters.
They would pour into this world—
twice the number of all living beings.
It would not be a battle.
It would be a slaughter.
A test of survival—
where only those who fought back and proved their worth would gain rewards and recognition.
"This world will be forced to evolve," Ansh said.
"Or it will be destroyed."
The old butler exhaled slowly.
The gravity of the situation settled deep within him.
"And you…" he said quietly,
"you carry all of this alone?"
Ansh shook his head.
"I did," he admitted.
"But not anymore."
He met the old man's eyes.
"You already knew part of the truth. You were trained by him… by my great-grandfather."
"If there's anyone I can trust with this…"
"…it's you."
For a long moment—
the old butler said nothing.
Then slowly—
he stood.
The weight of age still rested on his shoulders—
but something else rose with him now.
Purpose.
"My young master," he said, his voice steadier than it had been in years,
"it seems my old master prepared me for more than I realized."
There was no hesitation in his eyes.
"If the blood of Ashbound still flows…"
"…then I will stand by it."
A faint, rare smile appeared on his face.
"Just as I did before."
And in that quiet room—
beneath the shadow of a coming catastrophe—
the past and present of the Ashbound family stood once more.
United.
The old man looked at Ansh with a grave, searching gaze.
"Do you know when this world will ascend?" he asked.
Ansh met his eyes, his voice calm but firm.
"At minimum… within a month."
Silence fell.
For a brief moment, the room seemed to freeze—
as if even time itself had paused to absorb the weight of those words.
But the old butler did not panic.
Instead—
his mind began to move.
Fast.
Precise.
Calculating.
A trial from the System…
A monster siege…
The collapse of order…
Yet even in the face of such overwhelming uncertainty—
he remained composed.
He had already begun forming a plan.
Ansh watched him quietly.
He understood everything… this quickly?
A faint flicker of surprise crossed Ansh's eyes—
quickly replaced by something deeper.
Respect.
The old man straightened slightly before speaking again.
His tone was steady.
Decisive.
"Young Master, if what you say is true… then we must prepare immediately."
Ansh didn't interrupt.
"First," the old man continued, "we should acquire more advanced weaponry—guns, explosives, anything available—and build a large reserve of food and emergency supplies."
"Once chaos begins…"
"…resources will become scarce."
He paused only briefly.
"Second—we must recall all fifty members."
His voice carried quiet authority.
"Though I train them within this mansion's underground facility, they are currently deployed across the nation."
"Each one is gathering intelligence—from organizations, hidden forces, and influential groups that could one day threaten you or this family."
His gaze sharpened.
"It is my duty to ensure your safety."
"For that…"
"They must return."
Ansh remained silent.
But his attention had deepened.
The old man continued.
"Third…"
This time, his tone lowered slightly.
"…we expand our forces."
Even Ansh's expression shifted.
"I propose we train at least five hundred people."
The room fell silent again.
The old man knew how extreme that sounded.
His current fifty elites were monsters in their own right—
each one capable of defeating many times their number.
"Even so…" he continued calmly,
"…it is not enough."
His eyes reflected something colder now.
Experience.
"For me… even five hundred is insufficient."
"But at present, it is the most we can manage without risking exposure or internal instability."
He clasped his hands behind his back.
"With one month… I am confident I can train them to reach at least the Second Trigram."
"Some, if talented enough… may even reach the Third."
He looked directly at Ansh.
"This will give us a decisive advantage when the System descends."
Ansh finally spoke.
"…And after that?"
A faint, knowing smile appeared on the old man's face.
"With five hundred trained individuals…"
"…we begin our struggle for dominance over this state."
The words were spoken without arrogance.
Only certainty.
Ansh studied him in silence.
He had just learned about the System…
about ascension…
minutes ago.
And yet—
he was already thinking this far ahead.
A trace of admiration surfaced in Ansh's eyes.
This wasn't just loyalty.
This was capability.
In the past, the old man had always prioritized quality over quantity.
The secrets of the Eight Body Trigram had been carefully guarded under Master Alok's orders.
And he had never once failed in that responsibility.
But now—
the situation had changed.
"Once the world ascends," the old man said, as if reading Ansh's thoughts,
"everyone will have access to power."
"Keeping secrets will no longer matter."
His voice grew firmer.
"This is the moment to take risks…"
"…for a greater advantage."
Ansh let out a slow breath.
"…You're confident?"
The old man did not hesitate.
"I am."
There was no arrogance in his tone.
Only unwavering belief.
"I trained those fifty over many years. Some took a decade to reach their current level."
"Not because they lacked talent…"
"…but because they were constantly deployed—handling missions, infiltrating organizations, building our network."
His expression turned slightly proud.
"Our reach spans the entire nation."
"Each member is placed with purpose."
Then—
with quiet conviction—
he added:
"No one understands the hidden forces of this country better than I do."
Silence followed.
Ansh stared at him for a long moment…
Before—
a faint smile appeared on his lips.
For the first time since this conversation began—
he felt something reassuring.
With him here…
This might actually work.
---
"They conduct experiments beyond ethical boundaries," the old man continued. "Human trials… genetic manipulation… artificial enhancement."
His voice carried a rare trace of coldness.
"They are trying to create something."
Ansh's eyes narrowed.
"Something that can rival what the System will grant naturally," the old man said.
Silence fell for a moment.
---
Ansh leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful.
"So… they're preparing too," he murmured.
---
The old man nodded.
"They may not know exactly what is coming," he said, "but they can feel it."
"A shift."
---
A faint pause.
"People like them… always sense when the world is about to change."
---
Ansh remained silent, absorbing everything.
The government.
The syndicate.
The foundation.
---
For the first time, he realized—
This world had never been as simple as he thought.
---
And now…
It was about to become far more dangerous.
---
The old man continued.
"There are smaller factions as well—regional groups, underground networks, mercenary circles. Individually, they are not a threat."
"But during chaos…"
"They can become unpredictable."
---
Ansh nodded slowly.