FREE USE in Primitive World - Chapter 202: White Dawn

Chapter 202: Chapter 202: White Dawn

“A spark is not a sun,” Thorne spat, his voice trembling with suppressed malice. “Many can light a fire quickly, but the density determines the warrior.

“Silence!” Veylara roared. The command was physical, a wave of essence that silenced the room. Veylara walked down from the dais, her chitin armor clinking. She looked at Sol with a new, piercing intensity. “An awakening in minutes… such a thing has never been recorded. Not even in the scrolls of any faraway tribe. If this is true, the Veynar have not just found a guest. We have found a Saviour.”

Thorne’s eyes narrowed, the greed in them battling with his fear. If Sol was truly a genius of this scale, Thorne’s plan to sell the tribe to the Zharun was in jeopardy. A genius of this caliber could stabilize the tribe’s morale and eventually become a Layer 4 or higher warrior in record time.

“Test him,” Thorne spat, gesturing to a large, black stone pedestal in the corner of the room. “The Sun-Stone. If his core is truly as powerful as you say, let the stone prove it. Many can fake a spark, but the Sun-Stone measures the true density of the inner sun.”

Zephyra recovered her pipe with a shaky hand, her ethereal calm still shattered. She signaled to a priestess, who brought forward a massive obsidian pedestal. Atop it sat a “Testing Stone”—a gem the size of a man’s head, carved from a material that looked like frozen lightning. This was the Sun-Stone, a relic used to measure the purity and volume of a newly awakened core.

Coal-Core was a dull glow.

Flame-Core was a steady light.

Sun-Core was a blinding flash.

Sun core… well, Sun core hadn’t been seen in Veynar since Veylara’s own awakening, and even then, it had only lasted for a few seconds, but it’s a pillar of light that reached up the sky.

“This is the Sun-Stone, It measures the capacity and purity of the Sun Core. Place your hand on the stone, Sol,” Zephyra said, her voice hushed. She looked at him not as a guest, but as a terrifying anomaly. “Push your newly awakened essence into the crystal. Do not hold back.”

Sol stood up. He felt… heavy. The space in his solar plexus that had once felt like a hollow void was now a swirling nebula of heat and light. He walked to the stone. Every step he took felt like it was cracking the floor. He felt the weight of the room’s expectations.

Korash sneered, crossing his arms. “Watch. It won’t even reach Coal Core. Fast ignitions are always shallow. He’s just a spark of lighting, powerful but short.” As for how true his words were, it was clear from his trembling hands, and even though there was sneer on his face, his eyes were wide with terror and disbelief.

He reached out and placed his palm on the cold, jagged surface of the obsidian stone.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

The stone remained dark.

The hall was silent for three long, agonizing heartbeats.

Korash let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, a small, cruel smile touching his lips.

Korash burst into a raucous, mocking laugh. “See! I told you! A fake! A hollow puppet! He doesn’t even have enough essence to light it up!”

Thorne let out a long, audible sigh of relief, his posture relaxing. “It seems the ’miracle’ was just a fluke of the environment. Warchief, I believe we should return to the discussion of the merger. We cannot waste our time on—”

Kira’s face fell, her heart sinking into her stomach. She looked at Sol, hoping for a sign, but he remained stoic, his hand still resting on the stone.

“Maybe the stone is broken?” Lumi whispered from the back, her voice hopeful but small.

Veylara’s eyes were fixed on the stone. She didn’t look relieved. She looked terrified.

“Wait,” Zephyra whispered, her smoke turning a violent, chaotic red. “Look at the base.”

K-RACK.

A hairline fracture appeared on the surface of the Sun-Stone.

Sol frowned. He felt the energy he’d pushed into the stone. It wasn’t being rejected; it was being absorbed. The stone was like a dry sponge, but his Liquid Silver was like an ocean. It was filling the stone, but the stone hadn’t reached the saturation point yet.

Fine, Sol thought. You want a light? I’ll give you a sun.

Sol felt the core in his chest roar. It wasn’t a gentle push anymore, it was an eruption. The “Hidden Sun” didn’t just want to light the stone, it wanted to consume it.

WHOO-OOM.

The black crystal began to vibrate, a high-pitched whine filling the hall that made everything rattle.

“Sol, stop!” Kira shouted.

But it was too late.

CRACK.

A spiderweb of white-hot fissures erupted from where Sol’s hand touched the obsidian. And then, the light hit.

It wasn’t a glow. It wasn’t a flash. A pillar of pure, blinding white light exploded from the crystal, shooting upward with the force of a volcanic eruption. It tore through the spirit-smoke, slammed into the ceiling of the hall, and continued upward, piercing the canopy of the Great Heartwood.

“ARGH!” Korash screamed, shielding his eyes as he was thrown backward by the sheer atmospheric pressure of the light.

Thorne stumbled, his Vulture phantom was instantly suppressed, forced back into his body by the overwhelming aura.

The Elders scrambled away from the table, their phantoms whining in terror.

The light wasn’t orange or yellow. It was a terrifying, absolute white. The sun-stone had turned into a miniature star.

The sapphire runes on the walls of the hall flared in a panicked response, trying to stabilize the sudden surge of power. The obsidian pedestal cracked, long fissures spider-webbing down its length as the material groaned under the weight of the energy.

Zephyra stared into the light, her milky eyes reflecting the star-fire. “The rank… it’s passing the Flame rank… it’s passing the Sun rank…”

“Sun core…” Harkan stammered, squinting through his fingers. “No… that’s not Sun core. Sun core is a pillar. The stone is… it’s breaking.”

The stone began to vibrate violently. The white light turned a searing, radiance that no one even knew what was going on.

SHATTER.

With a sound like a thunderclap, the Sun-Stone… a relic that had survived a thousand years of testing… exploded into a million pieces of black dust….

Outside the Great Heartwood.

The air in the Veynar tribe was thick… not with the usual humidity of the jungle, but with a desperate, suffocating hope.

The rumors had spread like a wildfire through dry brush the moment Sol had been ushered into the inner sanctum. From the markets to the warrior training grounds, the word was the same: The Outsider. The Divine One. He awakens today.

For a tribe standing on the precipice of extinction, “hope” was a dangerous drug. The Zharun loomed like a shadow to the east, and the internal rot of Thorne’s faction was no secret to the common folk. They didn’t just want a new warrior; they needed a miracle.

The daily rhythm of the tribe had ground to a halt. Men and women had abandoned their work. Even the hunters delayed their departures into the dangerous wilds, the children, usually boisterous and loud, were hushed.

Everyone intentionally or unintentionally gathered around the circular building, their eyes fixed on the circular structure of the High Hall.

“They say he’s from the stars,” an old woman whispered, clutching a prayer bead made of jagged bone. “If he hits B-rank… maybe the Zharun will think twice.”

“Flame-rank?” a young scout scoffed, though his hands were trembling as he sharpened a spear. “If he’s the Saviour, he’ll hit Sun core. A ceiling-breaker. A Layer 4 titan in the making. That’s the only thing that saves our children from the slave-collars.”

Flame-rank. The mere thought of it brought a hush over the crowd. In these lands, an Flame-rank core was a myth made flesh… a guarantee of a protector who could stand against hundreds of enemies, a warrior who could reach Layer 4 before their twentieth summer. They didn’t even dare speak of Sun-core; that was a fairy tale told to cubs, a level of power that belonged to the legends and epics.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

The birds in the surrounding Heartwood went silent all at once, even the iridescent sun-doves that nested in the Heartwood… suddenly took flight in a panicked, silent cloud. A heavy, physical pressure descended over the clearing, settling on the shoulders of the tribespeople like lead. It wasn’t just a feeling; it was a physical weight.

In the market square, a merchant dropped a crate of glow-fruit. The fruit rolled unheeded as he fell to his knees, gasping. The weaker tribespeople felt their knees buckle, the breath hitching in their lungs as if the very oxygen was being pulled toward the building.

Those with weaker cores fell to the dirt, gasping, their inner essence flickering in terror of a predator they couldn’t see, their instincts screaming at them to prostrate themselves before a power they couldn’t comprehend.

“What is… what is this?” a warrior gasped, his knees buckling.

Then came the sound.

K-RACK.

It was the sound of the world splitting open. A small, muffled boom echoed from within the hall, followed by a vibration that turned the very ground into a shivering membrane. The crowd flinched, a collective gasp rippling through the thousands gathered. For a heartbeat, there was a vacuum of silence… and then the world ended in white.

And before they could even recover.

WHOO-OOM!

Without warning, a pillar of absolute, terrifying radiance erupted through the reinforced roof of the Council Hall. It didn’t just glow, it pierced. It was so bright that the midday sun looked like a flickering candle in comparison.

The light shot upward, a solid lance of radiance that pierced through the ancient, reinforced canopy of the Great Heartwood as if it were parchment. It didn’t stop until it hit the clouds, carving a perfect, circular hole in the sky.

“MY EYES!” someone shrieked, but their voice was drowned out by the ringing silence that followed.

The crowd was blinded. Those who had been staring directly at the hall saw nothing but a searing white void. And then, the shockwave hit.

BOOM.

The sound was a physical blow. It swept outward in a thunderous ring, flattening tents and knocking the remaining standing warriors off their feet. A high-pitched, crystalline ringing filled the air, drowning out the screams. The shockwave roared outward, a kinetic ripple that shattered clay pots and rattled the teeth in every head for miles.

Among the crowd, several people reached up to touch their ears, pulling away fingers stained with dark, warm blood. Their eardrums had surrendered to the sheer magnitude of the resonance.

As the dust began to settle and the blinding spots faded from their vision, the tribespeople looked up. The white pillar was gone, replaced by a drifting snow of black obsidian dust and glowing embers of essence.