Chapter 152: The Ancient Roots and the Descent of Divinity (Part 3)
Dante Morningstar, the acclaimed Rank 1 of the New Generation, had felt until a few short minutes ago like the absolute king of the mountain. With his cursed dagger, the Fang of the Fallen Asura, clutched to his chest, he believed he had understood the pinnacle of assassination and survival.
But then, the air in the Plaza of Origin fractured.
His [Slaughter System], a parasitic entity designed to feel absolutely nothing but bloodlust, sent him a red alert that blinked violently, completely covering his retinal vision:
[EXTREME DANGER ALERT! CATASTROPHE-CLASS PRESENCES DETECTED ACROSS MULTIPLE VECTORS.]
[TACTICAL RECOMMENDATION: DO NOT MAKE SUDDEN MOVEMENTS. REDUCE HEART RATE. DO NOT ESTABLISH VISUAL CONTACT.]
Dante swallowed hard, a thick, cold sweat running down his spine. If his System, which fed on death, was begging him to stay still, it meant that the beings who had just appeared were no simple cultivators. They were natural disasters clad in flesh. It was no wonder that, according to rumors, these monsters had been able to massacre the elders of the Purple Light Sect as if they were novices.
Dante shifted his gaze a millimeter toward Aion and Aia. The Paradox Twins, those who dominated infinite inertia and absolute direction, were deathly pale. Their auras, previously perfect, trembled. Their new Binary Cores spun frantically in their Dantians just to keep them standing before the atmospheric pressure released by the Imperial Sequences. And the most terrifying thing wasn't the ten who were already on the dais; it was the suffocating pressure of the eleven who still waited in the shadows of the Upper Palace. A pressure so sharp that Dante felt the invisible edge of a sword resting directly against his jugular.
Samael Morningstar raised his right hand, his palm open toward the red-tinged sky of the Realm of the Dawn.
"Come out," the Patriarch ordered.
There were no explosions of Qi. No heavenly lightning fell. Simply, eleven shadows lengthened from the immense entrance of the Upper Palace, creeping across the jade until they covered the entire extent of the plaza. And from those shadows, eleven figures walked into the light.
Samael received them with a look that mixed the pride of a creator and the coldness of a god.
"The title of 'Imperial Sequence' will not turn you into uncontrolled beasts," Samael announced as the eleven monsters lined up before him. "True and absolute power is Control. A dragon that needs to transform and become a giant reptile to kill a city is a weak dragon. The true pinnacle is a dragon that retains all the mass of a mountain, all the fury of an ocean, and decapitates you while keeping its human form."
The first three of that new group took a step forward. The air around them changed drastically; it smelled of ancient forest, raw ozone, and a clinical, silent death.
"Sequence 11, to the front!" Vexia announced, her voice cutting through the tension. "Draven Morningstar, The Glacial Bastion!"
The warrior who advanced was a titan who dwarfed any normal man. Draven was over two meters tall and possessed immense musculature, chiseled like blocks of granite. With his short black hair and black eyes, he looked like a barbarian taken from the northern tundras.
But unlike the static coldness of his element, Draven was jovial, loud, and brutal. He was the ice equivalent of Korg or Borg. He loved taking direct hits from siege weapons just to prove that nothing in creation could break his structure. He protected the clan members with a blind fanaticism, calling them all "little ones" with a gruff, paternal affection.
His passive physical strength was such, and his body temperature so low, that the air and humidity literally moved out of his way, freezing and falling as snow at his feet.
"You are the glacier that advances and crushes, Draven," Samael said, his voice resonating in the ice. "A wall of flesh is not enough for divine war."
Samael opened his inventory and a tower shield, as tall and wide as an immense man, fell from the sky. It was forged in Glacier Steel and covered by thick, overlapping blue dragon scales. Its true weight was five tons of pure inertia. The artifact crashed against the marble, cracking the sacred ground. It was [The Glacier Scale (High Saint Grade)].
Draven let out a laugh that formed clouds of steam, approached the immense block of metal, and lifted it from the ground with a single hand, without the slightest effort.
"It's a bit light for my taste, my Lord," Draven grunted, striking the central scale with his huge fist. "But it will serve to crush some heads."
"Its true function is not weight, giant," Samael replied. "It possesses Zero Reflection Armor. The enemy's impact will not move you; it will become an extreme cold that will travel up their weapon and freeze their blood and arms. And if you plant it in the ground, it will expand an Arctic Wall impossible to tear down."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Heart of Ymir (Ice Giant Core - Conceptual Artifact. Effect: Upon assimilation, grants absolute thermal immunity and increases the bearer's vitality to mythological levels)].»
Samael stored the core in his inventory for himself, sending instead two spheres of light toward Draven.
"Assimilate this, shield of my Legion," Samael ordered.
Draven received into his mind the [Charge of the Eternal Avalanche: Collapse of White Mass]. With it, he didn't run, he "fell" toward the enemy by eliminating friction with ice, utilizing the energy accumulated in the shield to disintegrate his enemies at the molecular level in a sonic boom. He also received the [Prison of the Frozen Horizon: Guardian's Stasis], which allowed him to create a stasis dome where the air became a freezing fluid that froze even incoming magic.
Draven struck the ground with the base of the shield, and a blue phoenix of pure cold enveloped his body.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Cold Gravity and Stasis Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x480.»
«Generating Cultivation Rewards...»
«You have received: [Frost Lotus of the Nine Underworlds (Extreme Cultivation Material - Upon consumption, purifies the bone marrow, granting the Dantian an inexhaustible and lethal reserve of icy Qi)] and [Passive Body Sutra: "Titan's Permafrost Skin" (High Saint Grade - An invisible biological armor that nullifies damage from minor physical impacts and freezes enemy weapons upon mere contact)].»
"Sequence 10!" Vexia called, and the cold gave way to stale air, tasting of dust and abandonment. "Altair Morningstar, The Lord of Entropy!"
The figure that advanced caused the decorative jade plants adorning the temple columns to turn gray, withering into ash with each of his slow steps. Altair was a young man with messy, semi-long gray hair, and dead, gray eyes. His skin was so pale that the black, toxic veins stood out beneath it. He looked like a disgraced noble, or a living corpse ripped from its grave.
Altair was apathy personified. Melancholy and fatalistic. He always spoke in whispers and rarely showed interest in glory or pain. He only fought because his mind dictated that the death of living beings was an inevitability of the universe, and he was simply the cosmic clerk in charge of accelerating the paperwork.
"Altair," Samael said, his voice resonating in the sepulchral silence that accompanied the young man. "Your touch rots steel. Your presence undoes flesh. You do not need to wield a sword; the sword would die of rust in your hands."
Samael materialized a pair of gauntlets that didn't look made of solid metal, but of a black fabric, textured like condensed smoke. They were the [Gauntlets: Embrace of the Void (Low Saint Grade)].
"Touch them," the Sovereign ordered. "And your enemies will return to dust before they realize they have died."
Altair took the gauntlets and slipped his pale hands inside. Instantly, the uncontrollable aura of "rot" that withered plants was completely contained. It was sealed within the black fabric, ready to be fired exclusively through the Gauntlets' Singularity Touch. It would no longer rot the air; now, any armor or bone that Altair struck would suffer an instant molecular collapse.
"Ashes to ashes, Sovereign," Altair whispered, flexing the black fingers, which looked like holes in reality. "I will clear the board for you."
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Scepter of the Lich King (Divine Grade - Damaged - Conceptual Weapon capable of raising the fallen as loyal specters bound to the wielder's will)].»
"Your domain will be inevitable death," Samael said, sending two dim lights toward him.
Altair assimilated the [Impact of the Dead Horizon: The Collapse of Eras], a technique that turned his punch into a biological sentence. Upon touching the enemy, he didn't push them, but collapsed their cellular time and atomic cohesion, disintegrating them into gray ash in a painless and absolute manner. He also mastered the [Veil of the Ash Anvil: Stasis of Nothingness], using the Void Anchor of his gauntlets to literally grab space, extinguishing fire, freezing magic, and turning enemy weapons to dust before they could even graze him.
Altair lowered his arms, exhaling a grayish vapor. He looked like an ancient metal statue in the center of an abandoned cemetery.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Concentrated Entropy and Spatial Absorption Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x490.»
«You have received: [Ash of the Dead World Tree (Sacred Cultivation Material - Directly feeds the entropic root of the Dantian, massively accelerating the comprehension of the Laws of Death without harming the bearer's biological vitality)] and [Eye Technique: "Lich's Gaze" (Passive Ocular Art - Allows the user to see the fissures of degradation and decay in any physical, magical, or biological structure, revealing its critical breaking point)].»
"Sequence 9!" Vexia shouted.
The psychological terror changed tone. After the ice giant and the walking corpse, a young woman barely 1.60m tall advanced. It was Aylin Morningstar, The Thorn of the World.
She had short golden hair, and her skin was impeccably fair. Her eyes were a beautiful amber color that, although possessing a perfectly normal white sclera, shone with an intensity devoid of human empathy. She was a lethal porcelain doll. Her physical proportions were ridiculously striking, bordering on impossible for her short stature: she boasted a heavy and voluptuous chest (C-Cup), a tiny hourglass waist, and a prominently round, high, "bubble-shaped" lower body ("O" glutes) that stretched the fabric of her dark tunic in a sinful way.
But behind that childish, playful appearance hid a disturbing sadist. Aylin loved feigning innocence and weakness so that enemy giants would lower their guard, smiling with a sickly sweetness at the exact instant she impaled them from underground.
"You are the hidden shield and the treacherous spear of nature, Aylin," Samael said, watching the girl play with a golden lock of hair. "You are my Jade and Earth Storm Dragon."
An impressive spear appeared in Samael's hand. Its shaft was forged of Earth Bronze, and its immense elongated diamond-shaped tip was carved from a single piece of divine jade crystal that shone with an orange light, like trapped magma. It was the [Thorn of the World (Low Saint Grade)].
Aylin took it with her small hands. With a childish smile, she struck the spear's butt against the ground.
A dull earthquake shook the plaza. From the sacred, indestructible marble did not sprout green magic, but literal roots of pure steel and bronze that intertwined in seconds, creating an instant fortress around her.
"It's heavy when I want it to be, Patriarch!" Aylin laughed, her crystalline voice making a horrifying contrast with the sound of steel roots piercing the jade.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Seed of the Yggdrasil Tree (Mythical Fragment - Capable of rooting in the Dantian to form a Minor World, or being planted to boost the Qi density of an entire Realm). User Note: "This goes to Seraphina's garden"].»
"Learn to nourish those roots with the right blood, little monster," Samael said, sending the two emerald lights.
Aylin acquired the knowledge of the [Thrust of the Devouring Ecosystem]. With it, she used her spear's Gravity Core to strike with the weight of a mountain, injecting emerald Qi micro-roots into the wound that sucked the opponent's vitality until digesting them completely. And its defensive counterpart, [Fortress of Mother Earth: The Anchor of Eden], which rendered her literally immovable, forming a triple dome of diamond roots, meteorite dust, and hurricane wind that healed her wounds by absorbing energy directly from the earth's crust.
Aylin retrieved the spear, and the steel roots sank back into the ground, as if they had never existed. She gave a theatrical bow, holding the edges of her imaginary dress.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Root Drain and Seismic Connection Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x475.»
«You have received: [Earth Dragon Geode Heart (Sacred Consumable - Upon integration, violently expands the cultivator's seismic connection, massifying the density and oppressive weight of their aura)] and [Beast Egg: "Mountain Range Devouring Worm" (Minor Saint Grade Underground Beast - A colossal creature capable of devouring the foundations and walls of enemy cities from underground)].»
"Sequence 8!" Vexia ordered.
Again, the air changed, this time charged with a distorted, dreamlike sensation. Lyra Morningstar, The Dream Requiem, advanced toward the Throne.
Lyra was the supreme specialist in Psychological Warfare and Area Illusions. She had semi-short, very dark blue hair and intense neon blue eyes. Her beauty was icy, distant, and aristocratic. But, like Aylin, her anatomy was a weapon of mass distraction. Lyra possessed a scandalously voluptuous body, with a heavy and very prominent chest (D-Cup) that dominated her profile and dangerously stretched her armor, resting on a pear-shaped figure with very wide hips. That duality between her ice queen composure and her extremely striking figure disconcerted any man who faced her.
She was emotionally distant and enjoyed driving her enemies mad, but she was fiercely loyal to the stability of the Morningstar Clan.
"Your voice is a fearsome weapon, Lyra," Samael said, looking at her. "But your illusions lacked weight. They lacked cosmic reach. You lacked an instrument that crossed the barrier of the real and the imaginary."
Samael extracted a handbell, forged in dark violet Spectral Silver, without a clapper, but adorned with reliefs of faces screaming in silent agony.
"The [Phantom's Requiem (Mid Saint Grade)]," the King announced. "This bell has perfect synergy with your Staff of the Eternal Mist. Ring the bell so the sound weakens the cohesion of reality itself. Then, use your staff to inject the mist into those cracks. Your illusions will no longer be shadows, Lyra. They will have mass, temperature, and an edge."
Lyra took the bell. She shook it gently.
There was no audible sound in the air. But everyone present felt a whiplash to the soul. Reality seemed to wash out, colors momentarily turned gray, and the air flickered like a broken mirror.
"What is born in my mind will exact its toll in blood in the real world, Sovereign," Lyra said, her voice devoid of emotion, though her neon eyes shone with pure intellectual pleasure.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [The Song of the End (Divine Scripture of Sound Law - Effect: Capable of rewriting collective memory and erasing concepts through song). User Note: "Dangerous. Straight to the Forbidden Library under my custody"].»
Samael proceeded to inject the arts of the Reality Weaver. Lyra received the [Symphony of the Broken Horizon: Dream Dismemberment], where the bell's sonic wave turned into blades of pure vibration, tricking the enemy into believing they were surrounded by broken glass, only to feel how the solid sound actually cut their flesh and amputated limbs without using swords. And the [Veil of Non-Being: The Labyrinth of Static Amnesia], a dense mist that, when struck, absorbed enemy kinetic force, causing a Sensory Amnesia where the opponent forgot what technique they were using and why they were fighting, getting lost in the void.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Physical Manifestation and Sensory Amnesia Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x485.»
«You have received: [Mist of Stolen Dreams (Sacred Psychic Cultivation Material - Upon assimilation, amplifies the volume and resistance of the Sea of Consciousness by 300%, rendering illusory constructs undetectable even to a Great Saint)] and [Passive Mental Sutra: "Impassable Crystal Mind" (Saint Grade - Absolute defense that returns any psychic attack or mind reading as a destructive sonic echo)].»
"Sequence 7!" Vexia called, with a strangely respectful tone.
Elowen Morningstar, The Heart of the Forest, took a step forward. At first glance, she seemed the only normal and kind person for miles around. She was the Supreme Healer and War Alchemist. Her long brown hair with green hues was adorned with a living branch, and her green eyes radiated light and warmth.
Her figure was imposing yet comforting, with a maternal silhouette. She possessed very wide hips (pear shape) and a very prominent, heavy D-Cup chest that dominated her profile. Her personality was kind and easygoing.
But that kindness was the most dangerous illusion of all. Her pacifism did not exist. Elowen didn't hate the clan's enemies because, fundamentally, she didn't see them as human beings; to her, they were simply walking "fertilizer," "nutrients," and "biological ingredients" for her alchemy cauldrons.
Samael made an immense cauldron appear floating beside her, forged in matte black metal, whose legs were living iron roots that crawled across the ground. It was the Iron Root Cauldron.
"Your medicine is impeccable, Elowen," Samael said, handing her a small organic crystal sphere containing a miniature green galaxy, beating with the sound of a primordial forest. "But simple medicine is for mortals. I hand you the [Seed of the Tree of Life (Saint Grade)]."
Elowen took the seed, her luminous eyes opening wide.
"Plant it in your alchemy cauldron," Samael ordered, and the tone of his voice became deep. "By distilling its power, your potions will no longer heal wounds... they will resurrect the fallen. And if you reverse its polarity, your poison will not attack flesh... it will completely erase the information of their souls from existence. You are the Arbiter of Existence of my Legion."
Elowen dropped the seed into the black cauldron. A light hologram of an immense tree projected above it, and the scent of rain and virgin earth flooded the plaza, purifying Altair's rot and Tamsin's acid in seconds.
"I will recycle their empty lives to fertilize our Clan's eternity, Sovereign," Elowen replied, her maternal smile clashing horrifyingly with the meaning of her words.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Critical Probability: ABSOLUTE.»
«Critical Reimbursement x10,000!»
«You have received: [Spring of Eternal Youth (Absolute Divine Treasure - Effect: Upon being assimilated by the Patriarch, grants perfect quantum cellular regeneration and stops cellular aging, guaranteeing biological immortality)].»
Samael felt biological immortality anchor in his DNA, making him sigh softly with pleasure before handing Elowen her supreme doctrines.
The girl assimilated the [Harvest Transmutation: The Garden of Forgotten Souls], an offensive where her black dew "rewrote" enemies, turning them into trees of flesh and coal that then dissolved into nothingness, erasing them from reality to feed the healer's Qi. And the [Sanctuary of Rebirth: The Mantle of the Bloody Mother], a dome where the Morningstars' wounds closed instantly and any invader was trapped by carnivorous iron plants that sucked their vitality to strengthen the Clan's shield.
[CLAN INVESTMENT SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
«Investment: 2 Biological Transmutation and Reactive Regeneration Martial Arts.»
«Critical Probability: HIGH.»
«Multiplier Obtained: x499.»
«You have received: [Nectar of Corrupted Eden (Extreme Mutagenic Material - Expands the Dantian's anatomy allowing the user to process, store, and fuse pure vital energy and mortal miasma simultaneously without rejection)] and [Passive Evolutionary Aura: "Domain of the Bloody Thorns" (Mid Saint Grade - Makes any monstrous plant organism within a 5 km radius instinctively obey the bearer)].»
Elowen retreated, dragging her colossal iron root cauldron, leaving a trail of white flowers that bloomed from the marble and turned to ash in seconds.
The atmosphere in the Plaza of Origin was unbearable. Dante was on his knees, sweating profusely; the Paradox Twins were panting. Before them, Draven exhaled storms, Altair devoured light, Aylin weighed like a mountain, Lyra fractured the image of reality, and Elowen emanated the sweet, nauseating smell of extreme life and death.
Samael Morningstar observed the controlled chaos that was his eleven Lower and Middle Sequences. He had armed a pantheon.
The Sovereign stood up from his Obsidian Throne. The sound of his armor scraping drowned out the noise of all the Sequences. The thousand warriors looked at him.
"Everyone here, in the rank of Imperial Sequence, has reached the Peak 8th Stage of the Half-Saint Realm," Samael declared, his voice crossing the plaza's silence, heavy and absolute. "You have touched divinity with the tips of your fingers."
Samael looked at the six individuals who still remained in the shadows, waiting their turn.
"But we have not yet touched the sky," the King continued, his eyes shining with the fire of universal ambition. "Sequences 6 to 1. Step forward. Today, you will all be armed. But only one of you... only one, will cross the heavenly gate today and claim the Throne of a true Saint. Let the world kneel!"