Chapter 152: The Ancient Roots and the Descent of Divinity (Part 2)
The Plaza of Origin was no longer a simple architectural space carved in jade and marble; it had transmuted into a nightmare ecosystem where the fundamental laws of the universe agonized. After the awarding of the first five monsters of the Imperial Sequence, the air itself seemed to have fragmented.
On the right flank, the humidity in the air fell heavily to the ground under Elian's absurd inertia. Near the center, the sacred tiles bubbled, melted by the passive volcanic heat radiating from Bren's body. A little further back, a spherical dome of unfathomable blackness devoured any light photon that dared approach Lirael, while, on the periphery of the shadows, a chilling acoustic vacuum announced Joren's nonexistent presence. And above them all, Varian's eyes analyzed a future that had not yet occurred.
The thousand infantry warriors, the "Upper Class," and the Paradox Twins and Dante themselves, held their breath. They were witnessing the installation of true Doctrines of War into mortal bodies.
Samael Morningstar, draped in the dark majesty of his Imperial Void Dragon Armor, observed the chaos from his Obsidian Throne. Inside him, the newly acquired power of the Emperor's Harvest pulsed with an intoxicating intensity. Every time the heart of one of his subordinates pumped blood laden with Qi and bloodlust, Samael felt an echo of that power passively feeding his own soul.
The coffers of the Mystery Arsenal Chest, granted by the System after completing the Hidden Mission, remained open in his Sea of Consciousness, overflowing with Saint and Divine Grade artifacts that the outside world would consider myths lost in the Genesis era.
Samael raised his left hand. The simple gesture caused the wind in the plaza to die instantly.
"The Vanguard has proven that the laws of physics are mere suggestions for the Morningstar Clan," the Sovereign proclaimed, his voice descending upon his troops not as a sound, but as a physical pressure on their shoulders. "But annihilation has many more shapes and colors. The next group! Step forward!"
The group of five warriors who had been waiting patiently took a step forward. If the previous atmosphere was tense, it now became unbearably oppressive.
Vexia, her armor shining under the eternal light, raised her voice, defying the heaviness of the environment:
"Sequence 16, to the front! Nylas Morningstar, The Event Horizon!"
The man who separated from the formation did not walk; it seemed the ground dragged him forward by its own gravity. Nylas was of average height (1.75m), but he possessed a presence that dwarfed giants like Draven or Korg. His hair was the color of a dark miasma, a condensed toxic mist that floated weightlessly around his pale face. His eyes, a brown so dark it bordered on absolute black, lacked any spark of light.
Nylas was taciturn, painfully calculating, and harbored a deep, almost philosophical malice toward his enemies. He spoke very little, not out of shyness, but because the density of the gravity that naturally surrounded him made even the act of breathing or vibrating vocal cords a titanic effort for anyone near him. Nylas didn't like to kill quickly; he slowly and methodically enjoyed crushing enemy hope until it turned into a diamond of despair.
Samael observed him, and from his inventory extracted a set of thick chains, forged in a material that seemed to absorb the light of the Eternal Dawn.
"Nylas, bearer of the Demonic Dragon of the Abyss," Samael said. "Your bloodline is the well where stars die. I hand you the [Shackles of Events (Mid Saint Grade)]."
The chains floated toward Nylas. They were forged in Dead Star Iron. They did not have a fixed length on the material plane; their black links flickered, extending infinitely through small spatial cracks to hunt their target. When Nylas took them, the runic inscriptions on the links lit up with a violet so dark it seemed to bleed into the air.
Next, Samael pulled out an object that caused the light of the Upper Palace to arc violently. It was a small sphere, barely the size of a walnut, surrounded by a runic force field that crackled under extreme tension.
"And so your shackles have no escape, take the core of your new empire," Samael ordered, tossing him the object. "The [Black Hole Fragment (Saint Grade)]."
The Fragment was a speck of Non-Existence. A collapsed singularity surrounded by a miniature accretion disk, a ring of white and orange light spinning furiously.
"Embed it in your armor, right over your chest," Samael instructed. "Your chains will anchor you to reality, and this fragment will grant you Infinite Mass. This will make space itself flow toward you. Your enemies, no matter how much they run or fly, will float defenselessly toward your crushing embrace."
Nylas took the Fragment and, without hesitation, plunged it into the breastplate of his armor. A dull rumble shook the air. The ground beneath Nylas's boots sank instantly, forming a perfect concave crater, compact as diamond. The air around Nylas began to "fall" toward him.
"They will have nowhere to run, my Lord," Nylas whispered. His voice sounded like two immense rocks grinding in the depths of a cavern. "Their despair will feed my gravity."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Event Horizon (Divine Domain - Authority Effect: Allows the bearer to create a conceptual zone on a continental scale where linear time stops completely and gravity becomes mathematically infinite, crushing everything at a subatomic level)].»
Samael, with an icy smile, immediately transmitted the light spheres containing the martial arts to master such a monstrosity.
"Nylas, assimilate these area control doctrines," Samael said. "The [Style of the Devouring Abyss: Great Collapse of Events]. Your Shackles will not only trap flesh; they will inject void into your enemy's meridians, draining their Qi to send it to your Fragment, increasing your own gravity with the power stolen from your victim. And the [Stance of the Void Throne: Horizon of Inviolability]. A radius of absolute gravitational stasis where no projectile or magical attack can advance; they will simply be reoriented and crushed against the ground before touching you."
Nylas crossed his arms over his chest. The Fragment shone. The air within a two-hundred-meter radius became ridiculously dense. The weakest recruits fell to their knees, coughing, unable to withstand the oxygen pressure, until Nylas retracted his aura out of pure loyalty.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Gravitational Collapse and Abyss Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x495.»
«Generating Maximum Rank Rewards...»
«You have received: [Blood Lotus of the Devouring Demon (Extreme Cultivation Material - Upon consumption, violently expands and purifies meridians, allowing the user to absorb pure demonic miasma and residual radiation without their mind or soul becoming corrupted)] and [Beast Egg: "Leviathan of Dark Gravity" (Monarch Grade Beast - An extinct abyssal entity capable of manipulating spatial pressure around it at will, ideal for an imperial siege mount)].»
Samael looked at the black egg that had just appeared in his inventory. It was the size of a carriage and pulsed like a heart of obsidian. His aerial cavalry was about to receive its king.
"Sequence 15, to the front!" Vexia announced, and the gravitational oppression was replaced by a strong smell of pure ozone.
The warrior who stepped forward was the absolute contrast to Nylas. Maren Morningstar was tall (1.90m), with lean, elongated, aerodynamically designed musculature. His electric blue hair was always spiked and messy at impossible angles, and his purple eyes vibrated with a luminous intensity that hurt to look at.
Maren was literally vibrating in place. He was loud, charismatic, and dangerously provocative. While Nylas crushed the will to live, Maren loved mass destruction and hyperactive speed. He was a mathematical prodigy who knew exactly how much energy to release to decimate a squad without carbonizing himself. But beneath that layer of charisma, Maren was neurotic. His brain operated at hyperspeed due to his bloodline. He thought fast, spoke fast, and loathed silence; to him, silence was deafening because his mind was going a thousand kilometers per hour, analyzing the world in slow motion.
Samael pulled out a pair of greaves (leg armor) forged in silver Zenith Steel, adorned with blue lightning engravings. On the heels, they possessed small wings made of solid light that vibrated at an incalculable frequency.
"Maren, the Silent Thunder," the Patriarch spoke. "Speed is your domain, but it is also your curse. Take the [Thunder Step (Mid Saint Grade)]."
Maren took them. The second he touched them, the metal reacted to his bloodline, and the solid light wings unfurled with an electric hum.
Samael then pulled out a cylindrical reinforced glass vial. Inside, there was no liquid, but a pure, condensed thunderstorm, a trapped lightning bolt roaring in silence.
"And take this," Samael said, tossing him the vial. "The [Divine Lightning Essence (Saint Grade)]. Your current speed harms you. The physical world is not made for your reflexes. If you push your body, you will incinerate yourself from the inside. This essence will biologically reinforce your nervous system. It will coat your neurons and nerves with a layer of divine energy so you can literally move at the speed of your thought, without burning your brain in the process."
Maren uncorked the vial and, with a quick, spasmodic movement, drank the raw storm.
The effect was Dantesque. Maren arched his back. A chilling crack ran through his skeleton. His veins emerged through his pale skin, shining with a blinding neon blue glow. A layer of white electricity enveloped his entire body like a second skin, a kinetic shield that passively disintegrated the dust particles falling upon him.
"Ha!" Maren exclaimed. His voice sounded distorted, followed by an echo of static. "The world just stopped, my Lord! You all look like stone statues! It's glorious!"
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Step of the Thunder God (Mythical Movement Technique - Authority Effect: Allows instant quantum teleportation to any coordinate in the universe where an electrical charge exists, ignoring dimensional walls and spatial seals)].»
"So that thunder does not just run, but executes, assimilate these techniques," Samael said, sending the spheres of knowledge. "Your first doctrine is blitzkrieg."
Maren received into his hyperactive mind the [Zenith Execution: The Thrust of the First Flash]. A technique where he no longer ran; he transmuted into electrons, becoming the electric arc itself to reconfigure his mass inside the enemy, disintegrating them. It was followed by the [Mantle of the Thunder God: Galvanic Stasis], a Saint Grade defensive electromagnetic pulse that reacted faster than conscious thought, burning the will of enemy Qi and repelling physical attacks with shocks that carbonized the attacker's nerves.
Maren bowed at such a speed that, to the human eye, it seemed he had simply blinked, leaving a blue residual image in his original place.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Light Speed and Plasma Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x470.»
«You have received: [Celestial Lightning Tree Marrow (Exceptional Cultivation Material - Upon consumption, rebuilds and mutates the bearer's bones to act as capacitors, storing massive electrical charges and exponentially increasing the lightning Qi pool)] and [Formation Scroll: "Absolute Plasma Confinement Network" (Strategic Tool - Allows deploying a matrix capable of trapping and executing Saint Realm cultivators in a solar-temperature electricity cage)].»
"Sequence 14, to the front!" Vexia ordered, blinking away the blue spots in her vision that Maren had left behind.
The figure that advanced seemed to belong to a completely different story. Lys Morningstar, the Beacon of the Dawn, walked with the solemnity of a benevolent deity descending to earth. Her figure was angelic, with long, golden hair that shone with its own light and reached the back of her knees. Her hazel eyes radiated compassion. Her body, wrapped in a white and gold combat tunic, boasted a perfect figure: a voluptuous yet harmonious chest (C-Cup) and an athletic, firm, and square lower silhouette ("H" shape) that denoted impeccable martial discipline beneath her ethereal appearance.
But Samael's Eye of Destiny saw beyond the angelic mask. Lys was compassionate with her own, yes. Like Elowen, she seemed a guardian angel. But she possessed a sense of justice that was extreme, dogmatic, and terrifying. Unlike a traditional healer, Lys purified the Legion's enemies with fire and light without a single ounce of moral hesitation. She worshipped Samael with blind, fanatical devotion, seeing him not just as a Patriarch, but as the Sun itself.
Samael extracted from his armory an imposing staff, forged in pure Solar Silver. At its peak, a Helios Crystal emitted rhythmic pulses of light, shining like a beacon in the dark. It was the [Beacon of the Dawn (Mid Saint Grade)].
"You are our healer, our beacon in the dark," Samael said, handing her the staff. "Your light comforts ours, but your light also burns, Lys. With what I am going to give you, you will no longer fight in the mud with the soldiers."
Samael raised his other hand, and an artifact composed of multiple sheets of Divine Refraction Crystal began to orbit above his palm.
"The [Prism of Sacred Light (High Saint Grade)]," Samael revealed. "This is not a hand weapon. This will ascend to the stratosphere and orbit above you. With this prism, you will be able to focus your will. Turn your staff into a designator, and the prism will be an orbital purification laser. You will be the master of the firmament's heavy artillery."
Lys took the staff. She fell to one knee, bowing her golden hair. The Prism of Sacred Light shot toward the sky at supersonic speed, disappearing into the clouds of the Realm of the Eternal Dawn, ready to answer her call.
"I will purify the earth in your name, my God," Lys swore, her devotion resonating in every syllable. "Wherever you point, my light will descend to erase heresy."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Spear of Longinus (Divine Replica - Conceptual Weapon. Effect: An attack of pure light that ignores 100% of any magical, physical, or runic defense, guaranteeing the existential penetration of the target)].»
"To be the Architect of the Dawn, assimilate these laws," Samael said.
The golden lights entered the beautiful girl's forehead. She obtained the [Decree of the Unconquered Sun: Spear of Divine Sublimation], a technique where her staff marked a target on the ground and the orbital Prism unleashed a beam of "Cold Incineration" that sublimated (turned from solid to gas) entire armies without fire, leaving only white crystal and ash. And the [Sanctuary of the Eternal Dawn: Dome of Absolute Grace], an immense dome of starlight that provided accelerated photonic healing to her allies while melting the weaponry and draining the Qi of enemies trying to penetrate it.
Lys stood up, the air around her purified of Maren's static and Nylas's darkness. Her mere presence instilled indomitable courage in the ranks.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Photonic and Orbital Extermination Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: EXTREME.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x485.»
«You have received: [Fruit of the Unconquered Sun (Exceptional Cultivation Material - Refines and mutates the user's light element, permanently granting them the property of "Cold Fire," a light that calcines matter at the atomic level without emitting residual heat)] and [Inquisitor's Manual: "Chains of Soul-Binding Light" (High Saint Grade - Martial art of extreme suppression)].»
"Sequence 13!" Vexia coughed slightly, as if the air had suddenly acquired a bitter taste. "Tamsin Morningstar, The Jade Widow!"
The contrast struck the plaza once again. From celestial purity, they moved to the most toxic seduction imaginable. Tamsin walked forward, swaying her hips. She was short in stature, but possessed a hypnotic and deeply lethal beauty. Her hair was a vibrant acid green, matching her apple green eyes. Despite her short stature, her figure was spectacularly striking, with a voluptuous chest (C-Cup) and a bubble-shaped lower body ("O" glutes), high, prominent, and perfectly round, which stretched the fabric of her tunic scandalously.
Tamsin was venomous to the core, sarcastic, and brazenly flirtatious. While other assassins operated in silence, she played with her victims. She spoke with a sweet, soft, velvety voice while, without blinking, she described to her enemy exactly how their lungs were melting inside them.
Samael extracted a folding fan dripping with an emerald liquid. The [Toxic Sigh (Mid Saint Grade)].
"Tamsin, the Basilisk Dragon," Samael said, observing how the marble at the girl's feet hissed, slowly corroding from her mere sweat. "Your poison corrodes metal, flesh, and soil. But modern combat requires more than dissolving armor. Biological warfare and asymmetrical attrition is your doctrine."
Samael handed her an intricate glass flask. Inside, a dark green gas swirled, moving as if alive.
"Take the [Breath of the Ancestral Poisonous Dragon (Saint Grade)]," the King announced. "This toxin does not attack the body. It corrodes Qi. By breathing your air and your gas, the enemy's magic will sicken. Make invincible enemy Saints fall to their knees and become drowning mortals before daring to look at you."
Tamsin took the fan and the flask, winking an acid green eye at the crowd.
"It will be a pleasure to watch their precious golden techniques rot and turn against them, my sweet Patriarch," Tamsin purred, caressing the wood of the fan. "I will be the epidemic that cleanses their continents."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Blood of the Gorgon (Level 2 Law Seed - Effect: Upon assimilation, Samael's blood becomes the ultimate solvent and acid of the universe. A single drop extracted from his veins has the corrosive potency to dissolve the foundations of an entire city down to the bedrock)].»
Samael assimilated the monstrous law within him, his blood boiling and adapting, before launching the plague martial arts toward the Jade Widow's mind.
Tamsin received the [Decree of the Stellar Pustule: Reality Infection]. With this technique, the movements of her fan launched spores of primordial acid that did not wound the flesh, but "infected" the enemy's magical attacks, causing their fire or light to mutate into a green virus that backtracked and disintegrated their own meridians. She also received the [Veil of the Black Widow: Shroud of Acid Euphoria], an area defense where her colorless mist functioned as an extreme neurotoxin. It nullified the sense of pain in invaders, creating a false euphoria. Her enemies would believe they were winning the battle while, in reality, their flesh and armor were being dissolved at the molecular level, leaving them to die with a stupid smile on their lips.
Tamsin opened the fan and covered half her face, laughing softly. The sound was enchanting, but it made several recruits feel instantly nauseous.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Conceptual Corrosion and Bacteriological Plague Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x490.»
«You have received: [Core of the Monarch Basilisk (Extreme Evolution Material - Upon assimilation, grants the user's Dantian passive properties of Petrification and Lethal Poison, turning their aura into a passive chemical weapon)] and [Beast Egg: "Crystal Plague Weaver Spider" (Minor Saint Grade Beast - Capable of weaving invisible traps of paralyzing neurotoxin)].»
"Sequence 12!" Vexia announced, trying to dispel Tamsin's sweet, poisonous scent with her voice. "Rowan Morningstar, The Sharp Cyclone!"
The next monster stepped forward. Rowan was of average height and firm athletic build, with short bright sky-blue hair and silver eyes that constantly scanned his surroundings.
Rowan was arrogance made wind. His main quality, the "Zero Friction" bloodline, made him hyperactive. He literally floated a millimeter off the ground, unable to stay still, as if gravity couldn't properly hold him. Rowan despised heavy defense. He constantly mocked slow enemies and loathed "tanks" and shield-bearers (like Draven or Bren), considering them mere "useless meat sacks" only good for taking beatings.
"Rowan," Samael said, observing how the boy rocked on his tiptoes in the air. "You are the wind that cuts. You do not need to wield the blade with your hands. You need the air itself to be your blade. Your doctrine is three-dimensional interception."
Samael opened his inventory, and two perfect, deadly, bluish metal disks floated out. They didn't fall to the ground; they began to spin on their own, cutting the air with a high-pitched, menacing hum. They were the [Chakrams: Cyclone Wings (Low Saint Grade)].
Rowan extended his arms, and the disks flew toward him, establishing a perfect satellite orbit around his forearms, obeying his mind like faithful metal dogs.
"These weapons fly autonomously, responding to your mental impulse," the Sovereign explained. "They have a 'Void Cut'. They spin so fast that the pressure on their edges acts as a spatial saw, capable of piercing heavy armor with a drill effect."
Rowan smiled arrogantly, spinning the chakrams around his neck and back at absurd speeds.
"Finally, Patriarch. Something that can keep up with me. The meat sacks won't know where the decapitation came from."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Mythical Flight Manual: "Steps of Hermes" (Imperial Grade - Pure and absolute movement technique that nullifies thermodynamic and friction laws, allowing the user to move like an immaterial concept on the battlefield)].»
Samael nodded, his mind jealously guarding the imperial manual for his legion's scouts, before sending the two light blue lights toward Rowan.
Rowan assimilated the [Execution of the Blind Hurricane: The Phase Slash], the ultimate expression of Zero Friction. With this technique, Rowan reached dimensional escape velocity. He and his chakrams ceased interacting with solid matter. He passed through the enemy like a ghost, cutting their molecular structure without kinetic impact. The rival wouldn't feel the cut until reality readjusted seconds later, crumbling into clean slices. And for his cover, the [Shield of Dead Calm], where his chakrams spun so fast they created a void sphere where magical energy or arrows simply "slipped," being violently redirected to other angles.
Rowan bowed, the Cyclone Wings visually splitting into ten cutting illusions due to the incredible orbital speed.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Escape Velocity and Orbital Wind Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x460.»
«You have received: [Wind Lotus of Three Tribulations (Cultivation Consumable - Upon refinement, drastically increases the user's lung capacity and Qi regeneration speed while in motion, making fatigue impossible in aerial combat)] and [Auxiliary Artifact: "Aeolian Gravity Regulating Bracers" (Allows the user to walk, run, and stop on empty air with the same traction as if it were solid ground)].»
The second group of Imperial Sequences took a step back, falling into line.
The Plaza of Origin was a spectacle of mythical proportions. In just a few minutes, Samael had forged the most destructive orbital artillery, the most crushing gravitational control, perfect bacteriological warfare, and the fastest assassins in the history of the Realm.
Samael Morningstar observed the immense treasure now resting in his Inventory. Monarch beast eggs, materials extracted from cosmic trenches, fruits that refined solar fire, and divine laws that allowed him to melt cities with his own blood or stop time. The power of the Emperor's Harvest throbbed painfully in his chest, his veins expanding beneath the Void Dragon Armor from the unfathomable flow of Karmic energy and Qi that his Sequences were transferring to him out of pure, overwhelming loyalty.
He was not a king arming an army. He was a God creating a pantheon of minor deities of war.
Samael smiled, his violet and crimson gaze shining as the only true light amidst the chaos of his men's auras.
There were still the highest Sequences left. The Top 11 remained. And at the pinnacle of it all... the awakening of the first saint within the imperial sequences.
"The earth trembles," Samael whispered, but the whole world heard him. "But the heavens have not yet broken! Sequences 11 to 7, step forward and claim your divinity!"