Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 4274: Prisoners and Wars! III

|A tremendous amount of effort was exerted to achieve tremendous results. The battle between the Trolls and Yeti King of the First Folds has concluded.|

|+5 Quadrillion Complexity and Purity gained.|

Above a landscape where a mountain used to be, there was now only a scar.

The Frostfang Peaks had been unmade, their colossal, worlds-sized form reduced to a continent-sized crater of shattered ice and scorched earth.

Noah floated in the silent, blood-soaked void, his Aegis of the Architect now a deep, glorious crimson, a testament to the feast it had just consumed.

Down below, the last of the Verdant Trolls had been cleared, their essences drunk by his armor, their bodies now just another layer of nutrient-rich soil in this primordial graveyard.

Yet, in this grand moment of victory, he floated silently. And he sighed.

He looked down at the utter, absolute decimation. The Trolls, the Yeti King... they had just been living their lives, following their own primal, territorial laws in this forgotten corner of existence.

They had minded their own business. And he had come, a meteor of ambition and desperation from another age, and he had annihilated them!

He had rendered their entire civilization, their entire world, into nothing more than fuel for his own ascent.

He thought about this, about the sheer, brutal calculus of his own survival. And then, he shook his head and smiled.

When a hunter, his family starving, ventured into the woods and brought down a deer, did he weep for the life he had taken?

Or did he give thanks for the sustenance it provided?

When a farmer walked to his chicken coop or the ranch of his sheep, his blade sharp and his purpose clear, did he mourn for the lives he was about to end?

Or did he think of the warm meal, the full bellies, the continuation of his own story?

He raised his armored hand, the crimson-stained white and gold a thing of terrible, beautiful power, and he spoke, his voice a low murmur that was for him and him alone.

”Existence is survival of the fittest. It is a hunt. I hunted today for my sake, and for the sake of those who depend on me. And as many have done before, and as many will do in the future... I am also hunted. I was prey for the Justiciar. I was prey for the Lodestone. I am prey for whatever comes next.”

His voice hardened, the calm giving way to a cold, tyrannical certainty. ”I was a hunter today, and I could be prey tomorrow. So, I must continue to move, to grow, to hunt, to ensure that I am never again the weak prey cowering in the shadows.”

At his words, a new presence appeared beside him.

Elara floated there, a brilliant, almost manic, light in her crimson eyes. She laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated scientific glee.

”What are you saying now after such a massacre, Elderborn?” she exclaimed, her gaze sweeping over the carnage with the appreciative eye of a researcher who had just witnessed a successful, if messy, experiment.

”This was just a field test, and everything went... astonishingly! That Justiciar armor...”

She drifted closer, her eyes fixed on the Aegis, on the way its crimson hue seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

”Huhu, Dr. Flamel will be very interested in this. A Living Existential Armor that grows alongside its user... if we can change our models to be similar to it, would we not be able to have Fold Dwellers and Living Existences reach the height of Early Creatures?”

She floated over, her gaze now one of raw, covetous expectation.

She looked at the crimson-tinged white and gold armor Noah was wrapped in, and she whispered, her voice a breathy, almost intimate, thing, ”I wonder how it would feel to adorn such a wonder...”

At that moment, the Omnichalcum Core Modulator behind Noah hummed.

His own, slightly larger, armored figure, without his conscious command, seemed to lean in, wrapping his massive, gauntleted hands around Elara’s surprisingly slender figure, pulling her close. But before the gesture could be misinterpreted...

BOOM!

A pillar of pure, golden light, a spear of absolute, annihilating authority, smashed down from above.

It struck Noah’s hands, and the Innate Omnichalcum Aura Field flared to life, absorbing the blow with a silent, shimmering ripple.

An attack.

Noah’s eyes, behind the golden visor, flashed with a dangerous, predatory light. From Elara, a terrifying aura of her own 500 Quadrillion in complexity erupted.

She pushed Noah’s arms away and bellowed, her voice a whip-crack of pure, unrestrained fury. ”Who dares?!”

HUUM!

In the next instant, at speeds that exceeded even the Yeti King, auras of terrifying complexity and purity surrounded them.

From multiple directions, glorious, imposing figures materialized, their forms wreathed in a golden light that was not of Origin, but of something far older, far more arrogant.

They encircled Noah and Elara, a silent, golden cage of absolute power.

At their forefront was a man with long, fiery crimson hair that seemed to burn with its own internal light.

He floated with the easy, languid grace of a king surveying his domain, and his voice was a deep, resonant baritone that was both polite and utterly menacing.

”I dare, O Fold Dweller,” he said. ”The Followers of Gilgamesh dare.”

Ten of them. Ten Early Creatures, their forms clad in magnificent golden chitons that seemed to be woven from solidified starlight, now surrounded Noah and Elara, their expressions calm, their power suffocating.

|Warning: Multiple High-Threat Entities Detected.|

|Analysis: You are surrounded by a force that significantly outmatches your current capabilities, Master. The term for this tactical situation is... suboptimal.|

Noah’s gaze swept over them, his Existential Command Interface providing a cascade of terrifying, beautiful numbers.

|[Commander Kael] – 780 Quadrillion Complexity & Purity|

|[Sub-Commander Lavvana] – 620 Quadrillion Complexity & Purity|

|[Warrior Orion] – 580 Quadrillion Complexity & Purity|

HUUM!

The weakest among them was a solid 400 Quadrillion. They were a legion of Early Creatures!

Kael, the fiery-haired leader, floated imposingly, his gaze not one of aggression, but of simple, absolute ownership. ”We come in peace, little ones,” he said, his voice a smooth, cultured purr that was more terrifying than any roar.

His calm, languid eyes settled not on Elara, but on Noah. He pointed a single, elegant finger at the brilliant, crimson-tinged armor.

”We just wanted that piece of armor.”

WAA!