Adrian got up from his chair and stretched his limbs, rolling his shoulders. The soft, ambient light of the Crimson Spire illuminated his private chamber, casting long shadows against the walls.
Now that he had officially confirmed his status in the second stage of consciousness mastery and possessed a much clearer understanding of the power hierarchy governing the universe, a cold sense of realism began to settle over his ambitions.
He leaned against the edge of his table, his mind working rapidly as he analyzed his current standing. According to Hestia's compiled research, the leaders of Lesser Major Sects typically stood at the second stage of consciousness mastery, while the sovereigns of Upper Major Sects reigned at the third stage, the Weave.
By that logic, the Ethereal Providence Sect, a Lesser Major Sect holding dominion over a massive intergalactic hub and countless subsidiary factions, would be governed by a leader whose mastery was at the very least equivalent to his own. It was highly probable that the Sect Leader of the Providence Hub stood at the peak of the Anchor stage, and potentially, they could even be far more powerful than Adrian himself, perhaps already stepping their feet into the threshold of the Weave.
"I have my Source and higher authority," Adrian thought, his eyes narrowing in deep contemplation. "But when it comes to utilizing willforce as an actual, refined weapon? My experience is nearly null."
Having a boundless ocean of willforce meant nothing if he did not know how to channel it. In a battle of raw pressure, he could easily crush a weaker opponent, he had proven that against Malakor and the other envoys. But what would happen if he faced the Sect Leader of the Ethereal Providence Sect? What if that sovereign possessed highly classified willforce techniques designed specifically to bypass a cultivator's dense mental defenses and sever their concentration mid-spell?
If Adrian tried to fight that sect leader now, even he had no idea how the encounter would unfold. His lack of knowledge regarding how the Anchor stage or the Weave stage beings truly fought one another rendered any tactical prediction useless. In a battle at the apex of the Astral Stage, a single unpredictable variable was a death sentence.
And the techniques required to bridge that gap were not something he could simply stumble upon.
Willforce techniques were jealously guarded by the Great and Major Sects. They were the true markers of cosmic supremacy. Nothing of that caliber was ever sold openly on public markets, and every sect treasured their own willforce techniques as their ultimate inheritance, passing them down only to chosen successors.
"Perhaps some of the intergalactic hubs, places with black markets, might have fragments of such knowledge circulating in the shadows," Adrian reasoned. "But for now, I didn't find anything remotely resembling a willforce manual in the outer commercial continents of the Providence Hub."
He looked toward the heavy doors of his chamber, his gaze seeming to pierce through the walls of the Crimson Spire and out into the void beyond.
If it wasn't in the outer rings, then it had to be deeper inside. The inner continents of the Providence Hub, the restricted sanctums where the true elites of the Ethereal Providence Sect resided, were the only logical places where such highly guarded knowledge might be exchanged or hoarded.
If Adrian needed to learn willforce techniques and truly master the boundless ocean of consciousness he had accumulated, the only viable path he saw was to infiltrate those inner continents within the Providence Hub.
But he couldn't just return now.
He had not actively cultivated to recover his mana since arriving back in Andromeda. Right now, his Mana Sea held only around fifty million units, alongside a few hundreds of thousands more that he had accumulated through his daily, repetitive creation of divine concepts to expand his capacity.
If he used the direct command to sneak outside the Andromeda Galaxy now, the universe would instantly extract another fifty million mana units as its toll. Then, he would be left nearly empty, stripped of the vast reserves he relied upon to fuel his Source domain and absolute authority. Arriving in the territory of a Major Sect in such a highly vulnerable state was an act of suicide.
"I need to refill," Adrian murmured into the silence of the room.
With that realization, Adrian sat cross-legged on the floor. He closed his eyes, entirely sealing away his external perception, and reached inward toward the dark, swirling chamber of his Source Seed that housed the Devour concept.
A deep crimson hue flickered beneath his eyelids as he activated the domain. Instantly, an invisible, consuming vortex materialized around his body. The ambient mana of the Crimson Spire was violently yanked toward him, seeping through the reinforced walls and flowing directly into his expanding Mana Sea.
However, as the energy began to trickle in, Adrian let out a silent, internal sigh.
The density here was obviously low. While Sanguis Prime was a paradise for minor sects and its ambient mana was incredibly rich by Andromeda's standards, it simply could not compare to the mana density of the Providence Hub's environments.
Adrian could see the rate of absorption clearly. It was going to take days here if he wanted to completely fill his entire Mana Sea to its hundred-million-unit capacity. There was no shortcut. He steadied his breathing, slowed his thoughts, and surrendered himself to the quiet, methodical grind of cultivation.
…
Far away from the Andromeda Galaxy, deep within the structure of the Providence Hub, a suffocating tension gripped the central golden spire.
Within a lavishly decorated private chamber, Tenyz sat rigidly in an ornate chair, his hands resting on his knees. The internal injuries he had sustained from the fate backlash had not yet fully healed. The terrifying sensation of that ancient, untouchable monster brushing against his mother's divination array still haunted his waking thoughts.
The soft chime of the chamber doors breaking the silence made Tenyz flinch instinctively.
The doors slid open, and a high-ranking adjutant clad in the dark armor of the Ethereal Providence Sect stepped into the room. The servant immediately dropped to one knee, keeping his head bowed in deep reverence.
"Lord Tenyz, forgive the intrusion," the servant greeted, his voice tight with an urgency he was struggling to mask.
Tenyz exhaled slowly, forcing his racing heart to steady. He adjusted his posture, attempting to project the unbothered authority befitting his station. "Speak. What has happened to warrant disturbing my recovery?"
"My Lord, we have an incident," the servant reported, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "The Elyrians have staged a coordinated attack."
Tenyz's brow furrowed, a flash of genuine confusion crossing his features. "The Elyrians?"
"Yes, my Lord. Less than an hour ago, a small strike team of Elyrians bypassed the outer perimeter barriers and infiltrated one of our primary refinement factories within the Outer Continents. The overseers stationed at the facility were slaughtered before they could even trigger the alarm arrays. The attackers killed every guard, rescued the trapped Elyrian prisoners held in the refinement blocks, and vanished entirely without a trace."
The servant swallowed hard before continuing. "The perimeter defense commanders are requesting immediate directives. They suggest we deploy our Astral Stage elders to garrison the remaining factories and refinement facilities across the Outer Continents, in case they attempt to strike again."
Tenyz sat completely frozen, his mind stalling as he processed the report.
For a long moment, the only sound in the opulent chamber was the faint, rhythmic hum of the energy conduits running behind the walls.
"The Elyrians?" Tenyz's thoughts spun wildly. The Elyrians had been around for millions of years, existing long before he was even born. From the very day he had opened his eyes, he had seen his mother and the elders of the sect using them as nothing more than valuable livestock. They had always been a slave race to him, beautiful but fundamentally weak, prized only for the unique, regenerative properties of their luminescent blood.
And acting according to that subjugated nature, the Elyrians had never waged war against them in recorded history. They had accepted the collars, the chains, and the harvest. They were completely weak, utterly lacking the strength to stand against the might of the Ethereal Providence Sect, especially against his mother, a sovereign who governed the threads of fate itself.
But now, they had bypassed the sophisticated security of the Outer Continents, slaughtered trained overseers, and executed an extraction operation.
"It should have been done by that newborn Astral stage among them. Is this just the same situation as when the Elyrian prince ascended to the Astral Stage?" Tenyz thought, his mind flashing back to the past.
In the distant past, the crown prince of the Elyrian race had miraculously broken through and ascended to the Astral Stage. Blinded by his newfound power and driven by the agony of his people, the prince had directly stormed into the Inner Continents, believing he could tear down the Ethereal Providence Sect single-handedly.
It had been a foolish, suicidal endeavor. The sect had crushed him effortlessly, and to this day, that arrogant prince remained imprisoned in the darkest abyss within the central spire, his blood drained daily to fuel the sect's most premium alchemical reserves.
This current situation seemed similar. Another desperate Elyrian achieving a breakthrough and lashing out in a futile attempt at rebellion.
But due to the current scenario, due to the horrifying events that had transpired mere hours ago, Tenyz couldn't comfortably arrive at that simple conclusion.
A creeping, icy dread wrapped around Tenyz's heart.
"What if..." Tenyz swallowed, his throat completely dry. "What if the Elyrians really got the backup of this ancient monster?"
Just the thought felt grueling, an oppressive weight that threatened to crush his remaining composure.
If this were simply another isolated rebellion, the sect could dispatch a few elders to hunt the stray bird down, chain them next to the prince, and resume operations. But if it was the case with the Elyrians securing the backing of that unfathomable entity, then the Ethereal Providence Sect was already walking on the edge of a blade.
There would be absolutely no way to appease an ancient monster of that magnitude if they accidentally incurred its wrath by hunting its newly chosen proteges.
Tenyz's hands trembled against his knees. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to apply logic to a situation drowning in paranoia.
"No. Think," Tenyz commanded himself. "If they truly had obtained such a connection, then the ancient monster would have directly visited us. An entity capable of breaking the rules of Fate wouldn't need to skulk in the shadows. There would be no need for small fries to execute petty factory raids to rescue a handful of slaves. The monster could have erased this entire golden spire with a single thought."
The logic held firm, serving as a desperate anchor for his spiraling panic. It was far more likely that a new Astral Stage Elyrian had emerged, acting independently, completely ignorant of the terrifying cosmic shadow that had just passed over the Providence Hub.
But he could not afford to be wrong. He could not afford to let a heavy-handed elder accidentally provoke a situation that might draw the gaze of that entity back to them.
"I first need to confirm this," Tenyz thought, his eyes opening, filled with desperate resolve. He needed to capture this new Astral Elyrian alive. He needed to pry the truth from her mind, to see, with absolute certainty, that she was acting alone.
Tenyz looked down at the kneeling servant and issued his command, his voice brokering no argument.
"Don't send the elders."
The servant looked up, visibly surprised. "My Lord? But the security of the Outer Continents—"
"I said, do not send the elders," Tenyz snapped, his aura flaring just enough to force the servant's head back down. "If the Elyrians are bold enough to attempt another attack, inform me immediately. Do not engage them. I will personally go there and handle the extraction."
The servant's eyes widened, but he knew better than to question a direct order from the son of the Sect Leader. He bowed until his forehead nearly touched the floor.
"It shall be done exactly as you command, Lord Tenyz."
The servant quickly rose and exited the room, the doors sealing shut behind him with a resonant thud.
Left alone in the expansive chamber, Tenyz leaned back in his chair, rubbing the throbbing temples of his head. The luxurious walls of his private sanctum suddenly felt very small, and the silence of the room offered no comfort against the creeping fear he had.