Ashborn Solo Leveling Novels & Stories

The realization finally began to shake her composure. "Sorry, but I don't have time to keep playing with you. No matter how many times you try, this level of power still isn't enough to hurt me. And honestly, your so-called Godslayer Formation is nothing special." As soon as the words left his mouth, Ashton stomped off the ground and shot into the air like a rising dragon. His draconic eyes locked onto the formation's core. He clenched his fist and drove the Sixfold Carnage Fist forward.

Anyway, I quickly close the page and log out from the server as I knew Aaron could come at any instant. I go on to find some nice ideas on g****e for the world design of level 2 of our video game as we were already finishing the rough design of level 1. But I can't concentrate. I find myself thinking about Asher. His father only died three years ago, that means when he was in freshman year. How did he cope with it? How did he still manage to score nice grades? And why didn't his uncle take him to his house? Did Asher say he prefers living alone?

"Don't you think you deserve the same rights?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He wasn't as bouncy and carefree as he had originally seemed. I thought him a little out of his senses when he'd first began talking to me. He rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes. "The come down is always the worst," he mumbled. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at him this time. He nodded at my shackles. "They use runes on you. They mute my abilities with chemicals. Gets me high in the process. Now, it's wearing off and everything is setting back in. They'll sneak up here any second and shoot me up again, even though my abilities aren't a danger to anyone but myself in this state."

Just then, a small head peeked through the suffocating smoke. “Madam, do you need any help?” someone asked timidly. I forced my eyes open and saw a young boy who was about the same age as my son. He was covered in ash and dirt, but his eyes shone brightly through the smoke. He was so small in size, yet he managed to muster the strength to help me up. Then, together, we slowly made our way outside. The path to the outside was incredibly challenging, and I felt like giving up several times.

Ash drifted slowly to the ground, glowing faintly before fading. Ava dropped to her knees, gasping. The shard dimmed, its silver glow sinking to a faint heartbeat. The presence inside her coiled back, sated for now but still awake. Silas crouched beside her. “You did it.” “I almost didn’t.” She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. “It’s… bigger than me. Every time I use it, it gets harder to shut it out.” Lyra wiped her blade on a strip of cloth. “But without you, we’d all be dead.”

Ash’s POV The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

He hadn’t just lost a title—he had lost the future he had been promised, all because of a well-timed birth. "That explains a lot. It explains why Abel seemed different. There’s history there, weight. He’s not just your uncle; he’s—" "A rival," Asher finished, his voice flat. "He always has been, and probably always will be." She turned back to Asher, her curiosity not yet fully satisfied. "Do you trust him?" Asher’s response was immediate. "No." The word fell like a stone between them, heavy and final. "Abel plays his own game," Asher continued. "He might have stepped out of the pack’s direct line of power, but that doesn’t mean he’s harmless. He’s dangerous in a different way now, more subt

Something older—deeper—threading into the bones of Moonfall Keep. Her fingers glow faintly. Dull. Ash-toned. She inhales sharply. “This wasn’t a shadow,” she says slowly, each word deliberate. “It was absence.” The word hits like a dropped blade. Cain’s voice is low. “Explain.” “Someone burned themselves out of the world,” Maereth continues. “Ash magic. Starved. Broken. The kind that doesn’t cast—it consumes. It leaves nothing behind because there’s nothing left to leave.”