Summoned as an SSS-Rank Hero… with My Stepmom and Stepsisters?! Chapter 55: The Garden of Broken Skies (2) - Ascension

Ironic. I’d wanted to conserve it—yet I was about to burn through more than ever. Around , the trees stirred slowly, their trunks flexing like muscles under strain. Wide eyes opened in the bark, fixing on with an almost human awareness. A heavy breath swept through the clearing, thick with sap and scorched dust. They were already closing in.

I drew in a slow breath, letting the heat of mana settle in my chest. These past six months of training had changed everything—my endurance, my resistance, my control. If I were still the man I’d been when I first arrived at the Academy, I’d already be dead. But now, I could attempt what once would’ve been suicide.

I raised my hand, pointing toward the center of the ring of trees.

— Genesis.

Golden filants burst from my palms, slithering through the air like serpents of light before sinking into the ground. The vibration deepened, resonant, almost musical. The particles compacted at the center of the grove until they ford a translucent sphere, where two opposing halos began to dance—a silver mist and a blue one, orbiting each other like twin stars.

— H₂ and O₂, I murmured to myself. Two elents. Two perfect creations. One destined to devour the other.

The air instantly turned electric. The trees shuddered, their branches curling inward as if they sensed the coming catastrophe. A massive eye opened on one of the trunks, its pupil widening in pure terror.

I used Genesis to forge a trigger—concentrating an arc of mana at the heart of the cloud, sparking a white flash that would consu everything.

For a mont, the world held its breath. Then everything broke.

The explosion produced no fla, no sparks—only a wave. A wave of absolute purity, so dense it bent light around itself before crushing it into a scream. The shock hit head-on, lifting off the ground and hurling backward with brutal force. The sky flipped upside down. I barely caught the gleam of my own golden filants before the impact tore the air from my lungs.

I crashed hard, ribs burning, back against vitrified earth. A dull pain throbbed in my skull; my ears rang; my body refused to move. The air still trembled, saturated with heat and dust. I opened my mouth, gasping, unsure whether I was actually breathing.

[Level 34 reached.]

The voice of the world echoed in my head like a distant bell. I hadn’t heard it in six months. I lay there for a while, staring at the sky fractured by the blast. Around , the grove was gone. The trees were nothing but charred skeletons rising from a sea of ash. The ground, glassed by the explosion, reflected the light like a shattered mirror. Nothing remained but silence and smoke.

A laugh escaped —half-breath, half-incredulity. Six months ago, an explosion like that would’ve torn apart. My old body couldn’t have withstood the pressure, the heat, not even the vibration of mana itself. But now, I was still breathing. Exhausted, shaking, every muscle screaming—but alive. The training had worked. My flesh, my bones, my very breath—they were all different now.

I looked down at my hands. They trembled, covered in soot, but unbroken. Beneath the skin, the golden flow pulsed steadily—more stable than before. A smile slipped through. I spat out dust and pushed myself upright.

— Note to self, I muttered between coughs. Less generosity in the proportions.

I stood, still unsteady, and watched silence fall back over the devastated clearing. No sound, no wind—only the sharp awareness that sothing in , and in this place, had crossed a threshold.

Then a crack split the quiet. I glanced down. Beneath the surface, a golden glow crept through the fissures, moving slowly, weaving a network of shining veins.

The ground trembled, exhaling a warm, sweet scent—almost intoxicating.

The glass shattered.

From the dust, translucent stems shot upward—thin, wiry, alive. They grew before my eyes, coiling around each other until they covered the entire ground.

The flowers blood almost instantly. Their petals, of unreal brilliance, shimred through turquoise, gold, rose, and violet—beauty trying to erase the mark of my violence.

The air filled with a fresh perfu, rain and sap intertwined. Tiny motes floated in the light, swirling around like inverted ashes.

I took one step, then another. Beneath my boots, the earth still pulsed—warm, supple. Each step triggered a ripple of light that spread, then faded.

I stopped for a mont, watching the silent miracle. Minutes ago, this place had been nothing but ruin. Now it breathed again—not rebirth, but creation. A beauty so perfect it was almost unsettling.

I drew a deep breath, tightened the belt of my kimono, and looked up. Far ahead, floating islands carved themselves against the light. Between them, colossal vines spiraled skyward. And sohow, I knew my path led there—as if sothing beyond the horizon was calling .

I walked for what felt like hours, following instinct alone. The ground softened beneath my steps; the grass felt like silk, warm and luminous, as if the sky’s light had settled into it.

The wind carried scents of water and flowers—a strange mix of storm and spring. Every breath felt alive.

Around , the landscape stretched like a moving painting.

Stone arches draped in moss linked suspended hills. Waterfalls burst from cliffs, yet instead of falling, the water rose first—hovering in midair before raining gently down. Beneath them, there was no ground, only an endless void swallowed by light.

The sound of water ford a soft, continuous murmur—almost a song.

The wildlife, too, seed born of a dream.

Half-translucent creatures darted through the tall grass—deer-like shapes glowing pale blue, their hooves leaving no trace. Their amber eyes shimred faintly, their skin threaded with golden filants that pulsed with every step. Whenever I turned my head toward them, they vanished—swallowed by light, as if they’d never existed.

Even the wind seed sentient—changing direction to avoid ... or guide . I couldn’t tell anymore.

Farther ahead, a vast field stretched to the edge of a cliff.

Giant flowers, their petals open to the sky, swayed gently in the breeze. So folded as I passed; others turned to follow . Their scent was so strong it was almost oppressive—a fusion of sweetness and nace, beauty and vertigo.

Above, the sky shifted in living hues—azure streaked with violet, sotis gold—as if the very light changed texture with each breath of wind.

I could no longer tell day from night.

I kept walking, following a natural path of moss-covered stones. Each step seed to swallow sound, as though the world itself wanted to smother my presence.

As I advanced, the flowers thinned out, replaced by thick roots sprawling across the ground before disappearing into the mist.

And then, I saw it.

The vine.

It spanned the horizon like a colossal bridge, several ters wide, suspended above the void. Its twisted fibers, laced with luminescent veins, pulsed slowly like a living heart.

It linked my island to another, higher one, lost in the golden fog.

The wind, heavy with the scent of storm, rippled its surface in slow, sinuous waves.

I stopped, srized by the thing—both plant and creature. Each vibration echoed through my chest; the mana around it beat in rhythm with my own pulse. Beneath my hand, the texture was warm, almost organic. Blueish reflections ran along its veins, climbing toward the clouds.

I took a long breath and stepped forward. The surface sank slightly beneath my weight, then steadied. Below , the void devoured the light. Ahead, the other island waited—still, veiled in mist.

And I began to cross.

The wind surged along the vine, heavy and damp, carrying that scent of storm that always cos before disaster.

I’d been walking what felt like an eternity—muscles tight, head heavy, every step draining what little strength I had left.

The soft ground pulsed beneath my feet, breathing with , and with every beat, I felt my mana weaken. To generate so much energy, to keep my focus alive, to sense every tremor around —it hollowed out from the inside.

ntal fatigue crept in all at once—dull and insidious, a fog thickening behind my eyes. My heartbeat pounded against my temple, my breath grew uneven, my concentration cracked.

I tried to think of sothing else: Reina, Hikari, Aya, Miyu. Were they safe? Had they found shelter, or were they scattered across this impossible world too? And Aya... had she been right to bring us here? Was it instinct—or a mistake? That question alone scared more than the void beneath my feet.

The sky slowly darkened. At first, I thought it was an illusion—a shift in mana hue—but no. Day was truly fading. There was night here, too. A real one. Darkness stretched between the islands, devouring the last reflections of the sky, while the colder wind brushed against like a hand urging forward.

I looked up.

Above , sothing moved. At first, just a shadow—imnse. Then a shape so vast my mind refused to grasp it.

It glided through the clouds with the slowness of a sleeping god.

Its opal body shimred with gold, rose, and turquoise hues, and its translucent wings seed to warp the light itself. The sight stole my breath. Then it turned slightly—and beauty beca horror.

Beneath it, its belly opened. A circular maw, vast and gaping, lined with golden rings of teeth that rotated slowly in opposite directions. The translucent mbrane that had hidden it peeled back like an eyelid. The air trembled with a deep, almost musical rumble—the note of a colossal flute tuning itself to my heartbeat. Everything around —leaves, petals, dust—began to rise.

I felt the pull. Gentle at first, almost pleasant, then stronger. The wind shifted, drawing upward toward the sky. My hair lifted. My kimono tightened. My body began to drift. That was when I understood: this thing didn’t just exist—it fed.

— No... no, no, no...

I tried to step back, but the vine trembled violently. Every move demanded impossible willpower. My thoughts blurred; panic surged like a wave. I swung my hand, invoking Genesis—filants burst from my palm, forming a rope I hurled toward a lower root. It wrapped, slipped... and missed.

— Damn it!

The pull intensified. My feet were leaving the ground. My heart hamred against my ribs. I cursed under my breath, gasping.

— Damn fatigue... damn stress... I’m screwing everything up!

My fingers trembled as I reached into my dinsional inventory and drew Aurelia with a sharp motion. The tal thrumd in my hand—alive, eager. I tied the Genesis rope around its handle, took a breath, and threw the lance with everything I had. The bolt tore through the night, cutting the wind before embedding itself into a vine twenty ters away.

The rope snapped tight, yanking still. My arms scread, joints cracking. Blood rushed to my head; my fingers slid on the burning thread of mana. Above , the maw kept turning, devouring the world’s light and air. The vine groaned beneath , ready to tear apart.

— What the hell... is that thing?!

I pulled again and again—muscles raw, breath broken. Death lood above, but I refused to let go. My thoughts narrowed to motion: pull, breathe, survive. I wrapped the rope around my waist, wedged my boots into the living fibers of the vine, and hauled with everything I had until my arms felt like they’d tear apart.

The creature passed above . Its shadow swallowed everything—light, wind, sound. For a few seconds, nothing existed. Just that visceral silence—the void before death. Then the pull stopped.

I fell hard onto the vine, air crushed from my lungs. My body hit the warm surface; my skull rang like a bell. The sky, calm again, looked strangely empty. Nothing moved.

I lay there, arms spread, gasping like a wounded beast. My heart pounded against my ribs. My hands trembled, muscles unresponsive. I tried to laugh—but only a rasp ca out.

— Goddamn it...

I stayed like that for seconds—or minutes, maybe—unable to move. The air tasted of electricity and blood. Every breath hurt, as if I were still inhaling the creature’s hunger.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the sky. Up there, no more color, no more light—just a fading streak of shadow.

I exhaled, voice breaking.

— This place is anything but a paradise.