Chapter 6: History of Nyxer – I
"Vaibhav… now it's your turn," Lin Xuan said quietly. His voice carried through the candlelit room like a whisper of fate.
The faint aroma of spice and charred smoke lingered, clinging to the air as if afraid to disturb what was about to unfold. Vaibhav's gaze was steady, yet his fingers trembled beneath the table.
Lin Xuan looked at him—not as a mentor, but as someone who bore the burden of centuries. "It all started twenty thousand years ago… 13,334 BCE."
The air shimmered faintly around him as he spoke, the faint hum of spiritual resonance filling the space. The lights flickered, and in the next heartbeat, the room was gone.
Vaibhav found himself standing in a vast, storm-wreathed valley, surrounded by black mountains that clawed at the crimson sky.
Lin Xuan's voice became a distant echo. "This… is where it began. The birth of the Nyxer Clan."
13,334 BCE – The Age of Origins
They were not born of gods, nor forged by chaos. The Nyxers were mortals who refused to die.
In the ancient era of beasts and titans, humanity cowered beneath the shadows of primal predators—until a single tribe rose above them all. Their blood shimmered with vitality; their bodies healed from wounds that would kill lesser men. They were hunters, warriors, survivors—and from them emerged a bloodline destined to shape the primal foundation of existence itself.
But among these people, a few stood apart—those whose instincts burned brighter than logic, whose movements flowed like beasts of legend. These chosen few were said to possess Primal Ascendancy.
Lin Xuan's voice drifted through the illusion, calm and low. "Primal Ascendancy… the pinnacle of what a cultivator could achieve with their body and soul."
It wasn't a power granted by gods or fate. It was a state born through endless trial—a mortal's rebellion against weakness. Those who achieved it transcended human limits, their every movement carrying the sharpness of instinct and the fury of survival.
The first Ascendants trained under the blood-red moon, their bodies honed through hunger, battle, and suffering. They learned to awaken something deeper—the Primal Core, a pulse of living vitality buried within every being. When aligned perfectly with mind and body, it forged a state beyond cultivation, beyond magic.
The ancients called it the Hunt of the Self.
The Five Paths of the Primal Ascendancy
Images formed in the air—five towering silhouettes, each radiating a different aura.
> "Five paths… five ways to embody nature itself," Lin Xuan narrated.
The Hunter, swift as a shadow, danced across the battlefield like a panther under moonlight. Silver lightning flashed in ascendant's eyes as his afterimage blurred through enemies—speed incarnate.
The Beast, muscles coiling with molten power, struck once—and the mountains trembled. The crimson gaze gleamed with brutal certainty.
The Survivor, green-eyed and unyielding, endured blade and flame alike. His body was the fortress, his breath steady through storms.
The Predator, golden-amber eyes reflecting endless calculation, flowed like a serpent, exploiting every flaw, every hesitation.
The Alpha, radiant in gold, stood unmoved. His will alone bent armies. His roar ignited hearts, his conviction unshakable.
> "These," Lin Xuan said softly, "are not gifts. They are prices paid in blood and pain. Every path demands sacrifice—years of discipline, unending trials, and the courage to face your own fear."
Each path had its limits—strain that could shatter bones, fatigue that could end lives. Yet the Nyxers mastered them all. Their warriors could outrun arrows, wrestle beasts barehanded, or fight for days without rest.
The Apex: Primal Instinct
The crimson sky above the valley began to darken. From the shadows emerged a single figure—his eyes pitch black, gleaming faintly with streaks of white.
He moved without thought, without hesitation. Blades of light tore through the air around him, yet not a single one touched his skin. He flowed through them like mist, every movement perfect, terrifying, divine.
> "That…" Lin Xuan whispered, "is Primal Instinct."
Unlike the Ascendancy, which could be trained and mastered, the Primal Instinct was untamed. It wasn't achieved—it was awakened.
It was when the conscious mind surrendered entirely to the primal core—when a nyxer became pure instinct, reacting faster than thought, faster than sight.
Those who entered this state became legends. Their eyes turned black as the void, their aura silent and heavy. They fought not with intention but with inevitability. Every strike, every dodge, every breath was perfection born from chaos.
But it came with a cost.
For those few seconds, they were no longer human. Their consciousness slipped into something ancient—something beastlike. And once they returned, they carried scars that no healing could mend.
The Curse of the Nyxer Bloodline
The illusion shifted again, revealing the grand citadel of the Nyxer Clan—a fortress carved into the heart of a mountain, its banners soaked in stormlight.
Lin Xuan's tone darkened. "The Nyxer bloodline carried both gift and curse. Their strength was absolute… but their rage was uncontrollable."
Whenever they fought, the primal core within their blood awakened too violently. They would lose reason, consumed by instinct until only slaughter remained. Villages vanished overnight when a single Nyxer lost control.
But there were exceptions—those who possessed both Primal Ascendancy and Primal Instinct.
They couldn't fully tame the beast inside, but they could restrain it, guiding the fury without succumbing to madness.
Those were the ones who became Clan Leaders.
They were warriors who could dance with the beast within and survive.
Arvind Nyxer's image flickered into the scene—his presence calm yet terrifying, his eyes faintly aglow with restrained darkness.
> "Your father's lineage," Lin Xuan said softly, looking at Vaibhav, "is not one of weakness. It is one born of those rare few who could wield the chaos and not drown in it."
The illusion began to fade. The storm, the citadel, the roaring echoes of ancient warriors—all dissolved into the dim restaurant once again.
Lin Xuan leaned back in his chair, eyes half-closed. "That… was only the beginning," he murmured. "The rise of the Nyxers is glorious. But what followed—" his voice lowered, like thunder receding behind mountains, "—was tragedy."
He opened his eyes, and a faint glow rippled across them, black and white intertwined.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I'll tell you the rest. The fall… and the blood that survived."
Vaibhav's fists clenched. He could feel it now—the faint pulse beneath his skin, something wild and ancient stirring awake.
The blood of a Nyxer.