Chapter 702: The First Tier · Righteousness and Malice
[Alert: You have unlocked evolutionary Ladder: Binary Antinomy.]
[System Initialization: Activating the ascent toward First Tier · Righteousness and Malice.]
[Ascending...]
[Ascent Finalized.]
[System Notification: You have harvested proprietary Trait: Thoughts of Righteousness (Unparalleled Rarity). Any strategic damage yield or status-ailment effects launched by an organism your diagnostic engine logs under the archetype of Righteousness will sustain a maximum system suppression clearing 50%.]
[System Notification: You have harvested proprietary Trait: Thoughts of Malice (Unparalleled Rarity). Any strategic damage yield or status-ailment effects your engine launches against an organism your diagnostics log under the archetype of Malice will sustain an absolute, compounding system amplification clearing 50%.]
[System Notification: You have unlocked proprietary Capability: Anti-Parity of Righteousness and Malice (A+ Rank). Your core logic commands the high-priority system privilege to manually invert the active parameters governing your Thoughts of Righteousness and Thoughts of Malice in a single frame.]
[System Notification: You have harvested proprietary Spiritual Light: All Creation Submits to the Sovereign (Max Level / Immutable). Your mind channels the unyielding, supreme carriage of an absolute King to masterfully command all variables; seamlessly subjugating and integrating the capability archives, energetic matrices, and conceptual Authorities of any asset defeated by your knuckles.]
[High-Priority Mandate Clear: Special Mission · Trial of Ki and Strength has officially finalized its execution.]
[System Notification: You have locked down absolute conceptual Authority: Ki and Strength (Adaptability 98%). Your biological framework commands the priority to trigger a 100% absolute amplification wave across both fields, concurrently purchasing your engine supreme priority whenever competing within the dual domains of Ki and Strength.] (Operational Logic: During any head-on collision or structural attribute verification measuring raw Strength or Ki, the opposing asset's metrics are system-mandated to comfortably out-scale your active output by over 100%; otherwise, their sheets are mathematically disqualified from ever securing a favorable check against any related capability mechanics.)
A massive cascade of pristine system notifications, which had long since finalized their internal compilation across the previous timeline blocks, beautifully and clearly flashed before Kaito Shirogane's eyes.
He lazily adjusted his skeletal framework to rise, looking for all intents and purposes as if his boots were skimming flat across soft velvet, effortlessly smooth.
An infinite multi-directional torrent of familiar physical feedback systematically returned to feed his cells—first his raw Ki, followed immediately by the Concussive Pulse of the Spiritual Light, before his total Magnetic Field Rotation sub-routines clicked back online.
Kaito merely weaponized the unrefined compression generated by his toe muscles to gracefully anchor his vertical stance from the dirt, his internal gravity tracking having long since returned to a state of flawless, water-like natural harmony.
Based on his clandestine blueprints, his master consciousness should have theoretically remained entrenched inside a deep slumber for a few supplementary frames, explicitly to devise a specialized structural trap to allure Madara Uchiha's soul file straight into the custody of the Throne of the Heart.
Regrettably, Hakumen's behavioral filters had layout-wise, operated with far too overt an intent, or perhaps the psychological trauma his claws had historically seeded into Madara Uchiha's database was monumentally too deep.
That legendary entity had completely and flawlessly declined to lock his parameters to compete for the primary motor pathways of this physical vessel.
Kaito Shirogane lightly massaged his knuckles, his right hand executing a fluid, casual snap.
Sizzle!
Deep within the atmospheric blocks, his unrefined Shamanic Mana generated an immense kinetic friction against real-world physics, rows of ghostly, stygian-blue kitsune flames beautifully blooming across separate coordinates.
Hum! Hum! Hum! Hum!
A rapid succession of several dozen conceptual soul-fires violently ignited across the block. Channeling this specific energy variant via his newly optimized meridians felt layout-wise, every wisp as beautifully organic as the microsecond Hakumen had pilot-steered his armor template.
Kaito Shirogane naturally and without a wisp of gravity drifted straight out from the center of that colossal crater, his long hair—half an absolute stygian black, half a pristine silver-white—wildly whipping through the air currents under the runaway expansion of his Ki.
Furthermore, because the mass was densely gilded by his unadulterated Ki fields, the edges of his hair strands looked identically as if they were manually bordered by a sharp, glowing trim of pure gold.
Kaito Shirogane slowly forced his upper eyelids open. Across the initial micro-frame, an array of distinct multi-colored light flares executed a complex spiral motion to dissolve inside his irises, before his pupils smoothly mutated into that sky-blue, cloud-veiled panoramic matrix tracking [The Six Eyes]. In the very next fraction of a second, his visual sheets rapidly pop-flashed into a Three-Tomoe Sharingan, before seamlessly morphing to project [The Eye of the Chrono-Iris / Tokiniji] layout, until ultimately every trace of his specialized Mystic Eyes was cleanly flushed from the registry.
His twin irises smoothly returned to display their standard, ordinary pitch-black human schema.
Yet monitoring this precise structural sequence, that entire multi-national assembly of high-tier Reincarnators blockading his perimeter knit their brows in deep, suffocating frustration.
The mechanical turnover tracking Mercenary Tao's evolution beautifully and with absolute clarity decoded the riddle: his ancestral abnormal state was layout-wise, mathematically disqualified from ever being logged as an automated panic loop triggered by the Mad King's offensive line.
Quite the contrary: his performance was an un-adulterated manifestation tracking an entity who had successfully stepped onto an exceptionally cryptic, world-ending evolutionary Ladder.
At this frame of history, Mercenary Tao had cleanly completed his integration into the Ladder, locking down an entirely fresh matrix of transcendent power.
Even assuming their instruments lacked the data to isolate the precise sub-atomic parameters of that power, back when Mercenary Tao finalized his assassination loop to delete the Mad King, his unrefined muscle sheets had layout-wise, already compressed a processing capacity that comfortably claimed the absolute peak directly beneath the Sovereign tier.
And today, his ledger had forced an absolute, exponential advancement... did that equation not hardcode a diagnostic verifying that despite lacking an artificial Title Crown, Mercenary Tao currently compressed a raw battlefield capability that comfortably tracked alongside a reigning [Sovereign]?!
Thud.
A solitary, crisp boot plant echoed across the concrete. Daheitian's entire biological framework executed a violent, instinctual shiver, his level eyes forcing themselves upward to verify a catastrophic reality: Mercenary Tao had layout-wise, already completed his spatial transmission to materialize directly before his chest plates.
The displacement velocity was so extreme it layout-wise, flawlessly matched that pristine technical state his engine unlocked whenever he throttled open his simulated Saiyan transformation.
Synchronously, Daheitian's palms went completely empty; ICE's mangled physical framework had already been unrefinedly hoisted into the air by Mercenary Tao's claw.
"Tsk... to think a mediocre piece of domestic static like this could actually batter you two parasites—while you were pilot-steering the motor pathways of this magnificent vessel—into a state of total, tattered structural ruins... your collective intelligence files are layout-wise, completely non-valuable, are they not?~"
Thick networks of stygian black characters were densely blanketing every coordinate of the white consciousness ocean. Entrenched atop that colossal, broccoli-like world tree, a standalone, pure obsidian-colored human silhouette remained calmly squatted across the branches, Kaito Shirogane's vocal frequencies seamlessly and synchronously flowing out from the phantom's jaw.
Directly beneath that newly elevated, high-perched Throne of the Heart, Gilgamesh and Hakumen had layout-wise, been on the absolute event horizon of launching a duplicate head-on civil war to fracture each other's files—yet the exact microsecond these syllables dropped down the line, both entities violently forced their predatory eyes to lock onto his silhouette.
The King of Heroes' irises were frozen sub-zero cold. His processing unit held a crystal-clean comprehension holding that his file had layout-wise, been thoroughly out-calculated by these two parasites; those two interlopers were manually plotting a clandestine design to harvest his sovereign power assets.
He kept both forearms firmly locked in a cross-chest alignment, his internal logic completely and flawlessly refusing to credit the premise that his Miracles and ancestral Noble Phantasms could ever be systematically integrated by a common host.
Yet in the very next fraction of a second, a brilliant nova of golden luminescence violently ignited from the bark of the broccoli tree, that supreme concentration of raw Magical Energy layout-wise, unmistakably duplicating the absolute parameters his own engine deployed whenever initializing [The Gate of Babylon].
"Mercenary Tao, pinned against a chronological nexus of this density, does your intellect genuinely intend to prioritize an internal civil war over the table?"
Tanzhishan monitored the absolute, authentic awakening loop as it finalized across Mercenary Tao's biology. Masterfully deactivating his own containment loops, his processing entirely threw out any supplementary directive to seize control of the creature's motor tracks, looking for all intents and purposes as if his fingers had historical-withheld every wisp of hostility from the map.
Furthermore, coordinating with the spatial reality that placed Mercenary Tao and the Deathly Silence of Life inside an identical point-blank perimeter, his analytical pathways began to decode an supreme threshold of absolute professional peril. The lone variable buffering his anxiety was the clinical fact that that swordsmanship-specialization monster steering the Azure Sky—Shizuka—was step-by-step closing her spatial tracks to reinforce the flank.
The four apex powerhouses were layout-wise, compiling a specialized matrix that mirrored a temporary, rule-bending macro-equilibrium.
Kaito Shirogane lazily rolled his pitch-black pupils within their sockets, his level gaze smoothly parsing through the stygian shadow fields to lock onto the Sovereign of the Final Sun · Tanzhishan, a deeply mocking, theatrical smile cutting across his features.
"A chronological nexus of this density?~"
"Does your processing genuinely calculate that the current board compiles an exceptionally hazardous environment, hm?"
Tanzhishan knit his brow in deep frustration.
"Your ledger has layout-wise, entirely caved through the threshold of ever accessing a high-peril Primal Matrix, meaning your intellect remains layout-wise, intensely blind to the baseline data. The Void Paradise operates under the system archetype of a supreme Observer whose developmental velocity comfortably out-scales the structural limits of the Infinite Dimension Space. That entire collective of Contractors is hardcoded from their Newcomer Trials to possess the priority to forge absolute blood covenants alongside separate Gods, their aggregate mastery over conceptual Authorities is layout-wise—"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Kaito Shirogane lazily vibrated his left index finger through the air currents, ruthlessly and flawlessly cutting through Tanzhishan's verbal trajectory.
His internal databases commanded an archive of intelligence resource mapping the mechanics of the Observers that was layout-wise, failing to rank a single millimeter inferior to the Sovereign of the Final Sun's knowledge; expressed through a purely strategic framework, his processing decoded the reality with monumentally grander clarity.
Assuming the environmental constraints of this world line had genuinely caved to a terminal emergency of that classification, the algorithms anchoring the Infinite Dimension Space would have layout-wise, long since initiated a localized, maximum-severity campaign to drop hyper-explicit automated liquidation mandates onto their displays.
For instance, calibrating against regional grid coordinates, the system would force every resident Reincarnator frontliner to initialize a point-blank assassination loop to delete Contractor X or Contractor Y.
An enterprise-grade, streamlined execution method of that classification was mathematically the single optimal pathing to protect a terminal's assets.
Yet evaluating the current World Task: although its outer presentation projected an extreme tier of structural urgency, it had completely and flawlessly withheld a standard system liquidation penalty for failure. The terminal was merely dropping an abstract, indirect advisory onto their displays, subtly hinting to the Reincarnator community that should this sequence collapse, the subsequent macro-environmental fallout would turn layout-wise, immensely severe.
Yet the core equation beautifully validated a single baseline truth: to the master processors anchoring the Infinite Dimension Space, this localized infiltration had layout-wise, entirely failed to reach a terminal crisis point that threatened its structural existence.
To state the theorem with cleaner precise diagnostics: this initial batch of inbound Contractors intertwined within their specialized Beacon Nodes remained layout-wise, comfortably caged inside the system's automated tracking and containment loops.
The terminal compressed an absolute, un-yielding baseline confidence holding that its engines could casually wipe the anomalies off the board at any given micro-frame.
Or conversely, at this exact millisecond of the chronology, a select cluster of high-tier Reincarnator champions had already been meticulously and via automated system guidance routed to anchor-drop their boots within point-blank range of every single Contractor coordinate on the map.
Kaito Shirogane cede his vocal paths absolutely zero priority to ever articulate these structural layout equations to the swarm; his vacant eyes merely scanned the collective with a look of supreme, unadulterated contempt.
This entire cohort of frontliners—freaks whom that Mad King had historically evaluated under the archetype of his supreme, cherished citizens—when calculated across Kaito Shirogane's filters, remained layout-wise, pathetically, anomalously insufficient.
The baseline blueprint his ambition craved layout-wise, completely refused to validate a Reincarnator collective of this mediocre classification.
His heart intensely, thoroughly yearned for a metahuman community that operated under a monumentally more brutal, catastrophically more powerful framework.
Directly over Kaito Shirogane's skull, that vague, loose phantom of a sky-spanning pitch-black crown floured with an increasingly solid, absolute material presence.
(End of Chapter)
~~~
Get early access to 50+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
~~~
Every 5 new reviews = 2 extra chapters
Every 100 Power Stones = 1 extra chapter