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## **Chapter 111 – Arbiter of Reality**
*Part 1: The Battlefield's Silence → The Breakthrough Begins*
The battlefield was silent at last.
Shattered stars bled their light into a sky torn open by war, the void still echoing with the last screams of ancient gods. The rivers of Ro Khile country had reversed their flow, spilling upward into broken heavens as if unwilling to stain the ground with more blood. Fragments of divine weapons drifted through the night like dying meteors, each glowing faintly before vanishing into nothingness.
Amid this devastation, a single figure sat cross-legged upon the cracked earth.
Ratan.
His robes were torn, his chest was drenched with both his blood and that of his enemies, yet his back remained straight, his gaze locked upon the horizon. The Eternal Clan's banners stood torn in the distance, but unfallen—symbols of a war survived, a struggle overcome. His clansmen whispered his name in reverence and fear alike, unwilling to disturb the storm that brewed silently around him.
The war was over. The **World of Chakras War**, which had consumed gods, clans, and entire continents, had ended with his hands. But peace did not descend. Instead, the heavens themselves stirred.
A low rumble spread across the void, deeper than thunder, heavier than collapsing mountains. The constellations trembled. The moon cracked. Even the seasons staggered in confusion—winter frost melted into spring blossoms, only for scorching summer winds to scorch the petals before autumn's golden rain fell within moments.
All of existence held its breath.
Ratan's seven chakras blazed one by one—Root, Sacral, Solar, Heart, Throat, Brow, Crown—each spinning wildly, devouring essence from the ruined cosmos. Then, with a sound like countless bells shattering at once, the seven collapsed inward.
A wheel appeared behind him.
Not a weapon. Not armor. A **Cosmic Wheel**, vast and terrifying, forged of interwoven light and darkness, stars and silence. Every spoke of that wheel shimmered with runes older than creation, every turn of its rotation pulling at the very foundations of reality.
Ratan's breath deepened. His heartbeat resounded like drums of destiny.
With each inhale, mountains far away grew taller; with each exhale, seas drew back from their shores. His pulse was no longer bound to flesh but tied to the pulse of the multiverse itself.
"Level Fifteen…" a voice whispered from among the Eternal Clan's elders, though even they did not dare say more.
**Absolute Arbiter.**
The moment he touched that threshold, heaven rebelled.
Black clouds roared into existence, swallowing the shattered night. Bolts of tribulation thunder streaked downward, not golden nor crimson but translucent, like threads of glass. They did not merely strike—they **rewrote** whatever they touched. A mountain pierced by one bolt did not explode, it simply ceased to have ever existed. A lake struck by another did not boil, it had simply never been.
The heavens sought to erase him.
But Ratan's eyes opened.
Twin vortices of light and shadow gazed into the void, piercing through storm and fate alike. His chakras spun faster, the Cosmic Wheel behind him turning in defiance of all law. From that wheel stretched countless filaments—delicate, silver-white strands that connected him to everything around him.
Possibility Threads.
The unseen roots of what could be.
For the first time, he saw them clearly.
Threads connecting stone to its chance of crumbling, a leaf to its chance of withering, a clansman to his chance of dying. Infinite strands weaving existence. And before him, the threads that defined his fate: survival or annihilation beneath the tribulation.
Ratan raised his hand.
A single thread pulsed before him, glowing faintly with the possibility of death beneath heaven's judgment. He pinched it between thumb and forefinger, and without hesitation, he severed it.
The thunderbolt meant for him flickered out.
Gasps rippled through the battlefield. Elders clutched their chests. Enemies hidden in the shadows trembled.
Ratan did not smile. His voice was calm, deep as an ocean.
> "If heaven decrees annihilation… I decree otherwise."
The wheel behind him roared, its spokes spinning faster, pulling all other threads into his grasp.
And so the breakthrough began.
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*Part 2: Insight of the Arbiter → Clan Awakening*
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The Cosmic Wheel turned behind Ratan, each rotation more profound than the last. With every revolution, the threads of possibility around him quivered like strings of a divine harp awaiting his touch.
He extended his senses further.
Every breath revealed countless chances—the flutter of a moth could become a hurricane, a falling pebble could trigger a landslide, a child's first cry could echo across centuries. This was no illusion. This was truth, stripped bare.
So this was the essence of an Arbiter.
Not to dominate force with force. Not to match blade with blade. But to choose. To pluck from infinity the one path worth walking, and to sever all others.
Ratan lifted his hand, and a rock crumbled in the distance. Not because he struck it, but because he severed the thread that bound it to endurance. Another gesture, and a wilted flower lifted its head, green once more, its possibility of life restored.
He inhaled deeply, and the Cosmic Wheel behind him blazed brighter, its spokes etching patterns into the void itself.
"Possibility Threads…" he murmured, his voice low but carrying across the ruins. "All things are bound by them. If I grasp them, then reality is no longer a prison—it is a scroll, waiting for me to write."
The Eternal Clan trembled at his words.
In the great courtyard below, where the clansmen had gathered in fear and awe, something miraculous unfolded.
Children born weak suddenly glowed with chakra light, their tiny bodies resonating with the Arbiter's wheel. Newborns cried out not with fragility but with a deep resonance, their chakras already awakened at birth.
Elders long hunched with age straightened their spines, their eyes clearing of mist. Wrinkles faded, bones mended, and vitality surged through limbs thought forever withered. One crippled warrior, who had lost both legs in a war decades past, suddenly found himself standing again, tears streaming down his weathered face.
"This… this is the Arbiter's domain…" the clan whispered.
Even those who had never cultivated, who had lived simple lives as farmers and artisans, found their spirits soaring, their souls stirred as if lifted toward heaven itself.
It was as though the Eternal Clan had been woven into Ratan's wheel, their threads secured, guarded, rewritten by his will.
From the high walls of the Eternal Palace, banners snapped loudly in a wind that had not been there moments before. The sigil of the clan, once humble, now glowed faintly with runes of power, blessed by the Arbiter's rise.
Ratan opened his eyes fully.
No longer did he see his people as mortals and cultivators divided. He saw them as threads—precious, fragile, brilliant threads—that he could shield, nourish, or sever if danger arose.
His heart, though tempered by countless battles, swelled with an unfamiliar weight. Not pride, not arrogance, but responsibility.
To be an Arbiter was not merely to command—it was to **decide**. And every decision would ripple across worlds.
At that moment, far across the realms, ancient clans stirred uneasily. Divine palaces shook as rulers felt the disturbance. In hidden voids, gods of destruction and creation alike turned their gaze toward the Eternal Clan.
> "The Arbiter has risen…"
> "He dares to claim dominion over reality itself."
> "If he is not stopped, all our plans will crumble."
Yet within the Eternal Clan's lands, the atmosphere was entirely different. Songs rose from the people, prayers turned to cries of devotion. Children chased each other beneath skies woven with new starlight, elders knelt with gratitude, and warriors sharpened their blades with renewed fervor.
The Eternal Clan, once mocked as a poor and struggling line, now blazed with destiny.
And all of it pulsed from the man seated at its heart—Ratan, the Arbiter of Reality.
He slowly rose to his feet. The Cosmic Wheel hovered behind him, vast and terrible, its glow casting shadows that stretched across mountains. His gaze swept across his people, across the lands, across the very stars.
He whispered, though every soul heard him clearly:
> "From this day forth, your lives are bound to me. As long as I breathe, no thread shall be severed without my decree."
---
⚡ That's **Part 2 :
* Arbiter insight explained through lived actions.
* Eternal Clan transformed (children, elders, warriors).
* Responsibility theme introduced.
* Cosmic reverberations (gods and clans react).
* Emotional clan bonding scene.
👉 Shall I keep going with **Part 3: Reverberations in the Cosmos → Foreshadowing (marriages, Nameless, enemies)
*Part 3: Reverberations in the Cosmos → Foreshadowing*
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The reverberations of Ratan's ascension did not stop at the borders of the Eternal Clan.
Far away, in the halls of ancient empires, seers fell to their knees, screaming visions of a wheel that turned behind a man's back, a wheel that devoured all destinies. Stars bent in his presence, rivers reversed their flow, and even time faltered. These visions spread like wildfire, shaking dynasties that had stood unchallenged for millennia.
In the courts of rival cosmic clans, silence reigned heavy.
Patriarchs who had once dismissed the Eternal Clan as ants now spoke in hushed, fearful tones. "If he truly wields arbitration, then every scheme, every prophecy, every divine plan—he can sever them all."
Another voice replied, dripping with venom. "Then he must be destroyed. Before his dominion grows."
But none dared act openly. For though the Arbiter had only just risen, the heavens themselves bent beneath his will. To challenge him directly was to court annihilation.
In hidden voids between universes, entities older than suns stirred. Gods of creation and destruction, those who had slept since the dawn of time, opened their eyes. Some smiled coldly, recognizing in Ratan a kindred path. Others clenched their fists in fury, unwilling to bow before a mortal turned divine.
> "Another sovereign rises…" whispered one god with eyes like collapsing galaxies.
> "The threads will converge. The Seven must gather," murmured another, her voice like breaking glass.
Yet, not all gazes were hostile. In distant valleys, cultivators lit incense in reverence. Wandering monks spoke his name as if it were scripture. To mortals, Ratan was no longer merely a man—he was decree, a living embodiment of law itself.
---
Back in the Eternal Palace, the ripples of power had not yet settled when new ripples of fate appeared.
Messengers arrived from two great clans—solemn, formal, bearing gilded scrolls sealed with divine sigils. The contents were no surprise.
Anjali.
Meera.
The two women destined by arranged marriage. Their families, sensing the Arbiter's rise, moved quickly. What once were reluctant alliances now became desperate, almost reverent offerings. To tie their bloodlines to Ratan's was to step into eternity.
The scrolls declared the dates of the ceremonies. Grand, cosmic unions that would bind not only hearts but worlds together.
The Eternal Clan celebrated with cries of joy, for marriages meant prosperity, stability, and the strengthening of bonds. Yet beneath the joy lingered an undercurrent of unease.
Would Ratan, who now wielded the power to sever destiny itself, truly accept arrangements crafted by others? Or would he pluck those threads apart and weave his own?
---
And in the shadows of that celebration, Nameless stood alone.
He leaned against a pillar of obsidian, his eyes half-shut, his aura hidden so deeply that even the Arbiter's threads did not touch him. To the Eternal Clan, he was a sworn brother. To Ratan, he was family. But within his chest burned a truth too heavy to reveal just yet.
He had seen beyond.
He knew what Level 18 demanded. Not merely strength, not merely unity, but a convergence of seven arbiters, seven complete chakra sovereigns, to sit together and defy existence itself. A trial so terrible that even gods feared to speak of it.
His gaze flickered toward Ratan, who stood radiant atop the palace, the wheel blazing like a second sun.
> "Brother…" Nameless whispered, so soft no one heard. "When the time comes, I pray your will is strong enough. For the threads of fate will not bow so easily."
---
Beyond even Nameless's sight, something else stirred.
In the dark edge of the cosmos, where light dared not tread, a figure cloaked in shadow stood upon the corpse of a dead star. His form was formless, his eyes hollow. He did not smile, he did not frown—he simply **watched**.
The Arbiter's rise had not gone unnoticed.
"Threads…" the shadow murmured, his voice cold as void. "Even arbiters are bound by them. He thinks himself judge, but judges too can be judged."
The figure raised a hand, and in the distance, countless threads quivered. Some snapped. Entire worlds blinked out, erased without a sound.
The cosmos shuddered, though none knew why.
And thus a new player entered the great game—one who would not kneel, one who saw the Arbiter not as destiny fulfilled but as prey marked for the hunt.
---
That night, under a sky where stars bent around a single wheel of light, the Eternal Clan sang, feasted, and wept in joy. But fate itself whispered in secret chambers, conspiracies brewed in distant lands, and unseen enemies marked their prey.
Ratan, standing alone upon the palace balcony, felt the threads quiver around him. He knew this was only the beginning.
> "From this day, I arbitrate reality. My clan shall never bow."
His words rolled across realms, not as sound but as law.
And so, the name **Ratan, Arbiter of Reality**, became etched into history.
---
⚡ That's **Part 3 :
* Cosmic reverberations (empires, gods, enemies).
* Marriage alliances foreshadowed.
* Nameless' silent burden.
* Introduction of a mysterious shadow enemy.
* Closing declaration of Ratan.
*Part 4: Closing – Mythic Awe → Transition to Chapter 112*
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The moon rose broken, fractured into seven luminous shards that drifted across the night sky like offerings to a new sovereign. The winds carried no scent of blood now, only the sharp clarity of rebirth. Yet beneath this serenity lay a truth all beings felt in their marrow: the world had changed.
Within the Eternal Clan's palace, thousands knelt in unison. Warriors hardened by decades of war bowed until their foreheads touched the stone. Children pressed small palms together, their eyes wide with reverence. Elders wept openly, their tears falling like rain as they gazed at the man who now stood not merely as their patriarch, but as their axis.
Above them, Ratan hovered upon the palace spire, the Cosmic Wheel of Arbitration blazing behind him. Its light spilled across mountains and rivers, painting them in hues unseen by mortals, transforming the night into something eternal.
For the first time, his name was not spoken—it was **proclaimed**.
"**Ratan! Arbiter of Reality!**"
The cry began with one voice, but it spread like wildfire, echoing across the clan, spilling into cities, carried by winds and rivers until it thundered through kingdoms. Farmers abandoned their fields to kneel. Kings paused their feasts and set down their goblets. Cultivators deep in meditation gasped as visions filled their minds—visions of a man holding the threads of existence in his palm.
His rise had become a decree.
The Arbiter's domain stretched outward, unseen but undeniable. Any who raised a blade against his clan would feel their threads tighten, ready to be severed with a single gesture. And those who sought shelter beneath his banner found themselves nurtured, strengthened, their lives brightened as if fate itself bent gently in their favor.
The Eternal Clan was no longer a minor lineage struggling to survive. It had become the heart of a destiny that even the heavens could not ignore.
---
On the horizon, beyond mortal sight, the shadow that had watched from the corpse of a dead star shifted, vanishing into the void. The heavens grew still once more, yet the chill it left behind lingered.
Enemies whispered. Allies trembled. The future waited.
---
As the night deepened, Ratan descended into the inner sanctum of the palace. The great halls blazed with lanterns, their flames bowing toward him as if even fire itself acknowledged the Arbiter's will. Waiting within were scrolls of gold and crimson—marriage decrees sealed with divine sigils.
Anjali. Meera.
Their names glimmered upon the parchment, threads of destiny intertwined with his own.
Ratan's gaze lingered, unreadable. His fingers brushed the scrolls, and for the briefest moment, the threads binding them quivered. Would he accept them as written, or would he weave them anew?
The Cosmic Wheel turned behind him, silent, patient.
Outside, the clan celebrated, but within, a storm of choices brewed.
For the Arbiter of Reality was not bound to fate. He was its judge.
---
That night, as the palace bells tolled thrice, a new chapter of the Eternal Clan began. The world had witnessed the rise of the Arbiter. Soon, it would witness unions that would bind empires, awaken children destined for greatness, and ripple across countless realms.
But in the quiet before dawn, Ratan closed his eyes and whispered:
> "Threads await. I will choose."
The Cosmic Wheel hummed in answer, and the world trembled.
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✨ **End of Chapter 111 – Arbiter of Reality**
(Transition into Chapter 112 – *Marriages of Destiny*)
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⚡ Now Chapter 111 is **fully complete** with:
* Silence after war → breakthrough.
* Insight of the Arbiter → clan transformation.
* Cosmic reverberations → conspiracies and shadow enemies.
* Mythic awe closing → transition to marriages.