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Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse (Web Novel) - Chapter 5589: Nature Against Nature!
Chapter 5589: Nature Against Nature!
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The white weapons fell!
Lances of woven loomlight rained down from the many-sided head of the Woe Culture as turning wheels of stellar white carved through the unseen sky, and the nine clones of THE True Human Emperor scattered across the heavens as detonations of crimson gold met an authority older than the frameworks themsleves!
And through all of it, the vast thing was still trying to understand.
"You strike me even now," its heavy voice boomed as three of its long legs swept a clone out of the sky, hair-fine threads bending fortune so that every dodge arrived a breath late!
"And I strike you, because you would end me, and I preserve myself. But I do not understand you, Little One! This... is what I am? I am a Woe Culture? I am simply living as I should, emulating the Primevals and THE First Lifeforms. You would hunt me because of my nature? Others have passed through here and seen me and not done anything. We simply nod to each other. Why not you?"
Others!
The word boomed inside Noah even as his clones wove between falling lances. Others had passed through this unseen layer.
Others had seen this thing hanging over his people, and nodded, and moved along! What manner of beings strolled through the white rivers above the skies of Dimensions unobserved?
"I do not hunt you because having a nature is a crime. Everything alive has one. I hunt you because your nature and mine conflict, and conflicting natures do not get to share one sky!"
"Natures do not conflict," the Woe Culture cut in, a lance of white driving down between two clones as it spoke, genuinely arguing now, fighting and reasoning in the same breath!
"Natures coexist. The storm does not conflict with the mountain."
"The storm does not FARM the mountain!" Noah’s nine voices cracked back across the sky as staffs swept a wheel of white aside!
"Your nature farms the grief of gathered lifeforms. My nature is to gather lifeforms and guard them. The ones you drink from below are mine, sworn to me, led by me, and every ribbon of misery you pull up through those jaws is pulled out of my people! Those others who nodded at you carried no one beneath your shadow. I do. Your claim on this sky and my claim on this sky cannot both stand."
His voice went cold as a drop of blood formed at every staff. "So one of them falls. You will not die for being what you are. You die for being what you are...HERE."
HUUM!
The violet lights churned slowly through the endless body as its legs drew back, and when it spoke again, there was something almost reasonable in the vast voice.
"Then I will leave here. I will go elsewhere, and live my nature above some other sky."
"You will do the same where you go, yes?"
"Of course," the Woe Culture said honestly, without a single beat of hesitation, "for that is my nature."
...!
And there it was.
It would drift across the unseen layer and settle above some other Dimension of countless decillions who buried their dead and never knew why the wars kept coming, and it would open its jaws, and it saw nothing in that sentence to apologize for.
"..."
Noah shook his head as before any sentence could be carried out, he reached for his newest tool.
THE Yoke of the Standing Sky!
The invisible structure across his shoulders woke for the first time as he willed it, blue gold force spreading out from him through all nine clones at once, and nine titanic figures raised their hands toward the endless purple body as Noah did something no being below had ever done to a Woe Culture.
He took it up.
BOOM!
The weight arrived!
Gigaparsecs of living lifeform came down onto his existence in a single instant as the Yoke gathered the whole of it, plates and legs and gigaparsecs of glowing skin, every league of a thing vaster than an Observable Existence, and Noah felt his frame ring from his clones to his true body on a distant volcanic peak! His shoulders bent!
The three singularities in his depths flared as his PONDUS was pressed to its edges for the first time since crossing, and the question of what the Yoke could bear was being answered in the harshest classroom there was!
Could he hold a lifeform the size of an endless sky?
His spine, seated with the Telos of Paradox, held opposing weights without breaking. His shoulders, broad with the Yoke, held the rest!
And the Woe Culture thrashed in shock as its entire body lifted, because it was being CARRIED, hoisted off the domain it had grazed for ages by something a fraction of a fraction of its size, its legs kicking at nothing, its fortune-threads finding no odds to bend against a grip that was not an attack at all!
"What... what is this?! Put me down, Little One! PUT ME DOWN!"
"As you wish," Noah said.
And he threw it.
BOOM!
Nine clones pivoted as one as the carried weight swung, and THE True Human Emperor hurled a lifeform countless gigaparsecs wide out of the unseen sky of THE Ymnaros entirely!
The endless purple body tore upward through the layer, through the white rivers, through the skin of the Dimension itself, and was flung countless gigaparsecs out into the dark, tumbling end over end over end, until it crashed to a stop far beyond any sky, in the foamy space between Dimensions!
Black foam churned around its sprawled bulk in slow enormous bubbles, the void between all things frothing where a Dimension’s weight had landed in it, and before the Woe Culture could even right itself, nine folds of crimson gold opened in the dark around it.
The clones had followed.
Nine crowns of blood turned in the foamy black as nine staffs rose, and blood began to gather at every one. Not in drops now. In seas! Millions of Sanguine Blood Drops condensed around each titanic figure as the space between Dimensions filled with crimson gold rain waiting to fall, and below them the Woe Culture gathered its legs beneath it and reached desperately for the white rivers that threaded even here, even through the foam, because the Argent Loom flowed through the spaces between as surely as it flowed through everything!
"I too shall have to live truly to my nature," Noah said quietly, "as my heart and mind tell me... You must die."
BOOM!
The rain fell!
Millions of Blood Drops from each clone tore down through the churning foam as the body of the Woe Culture vanished beneath detonations without number, event horizons blooming across gigaparsecs of stellar purple as plates shattered and clear skin ruptured and violet lights burst in waves!
And it endured!
The Argent Loom poured into it from every direction as white rivers bent out of their courses and flooded its wounds. Loomlight knitted faster than crimson could tear! Lattices of white rose around its many-sided head and DRANK the detonations whole!
And for the first time since his transformation, Noah felt his own power struggle.
His blood detonated against woven loomlight, and the loomlight refused to be commanded, refused to be corrupted, refused even to properly break. He had felled a vessel of THE Sealed One with two drops. He had cleared armies with one. And this relatively harmless thing, this grazer, wrapped in the Loom, was costing him millions! The comparison told him everything about what flowed through those white rivers.
So Noah stopped holding back the only thing he had that it did not.
He filled his Provenance Essence into his blood completely!
All three singularities poured themselves through the connection to his clones as every remaining drop in the foamy dark ignited from within, stellar blue blazing up through crimson gold, blood that was no longer merely his resource but his very light given liquid form!
And when the next wave of drops fell, they did not detonate against the loomlight walls.
They passed through them.
Because the Loom was an authority, and grand beyond measure, but it was still a thing that flowed OUTSIDE of lifeforms, a river to be used! And his blood now carried the one thing in all of existence that answered to nothing outside itself. He had Provenance. This creature did not. That was the entire difference, and today, it was the entire battle!
The white lattices parted around his burning drops as loomlight slid off stellar blue without purchase, and the detonations landed on flesh that could no longer knit itself closed, and gorges became canyons became severings as the endless body of the Woe Culture came apart across the foam!
And it cried out.
The sound rolled through the space between Dimensions, mournful and vast and utterly without anger, the grief-drinker grieving at last on its own behalf as its violet lights guttered out along thousands of Gigaparsecs.
"How could you end me... for simply living by my nature? I curse you... I curse you...!"
...!
Its body burst.
Countless light years of stellar purple, gigaparsecs of plates and legs and clear glowing skin, ruptured outward in slow silence and dissolved, breaking down into indicernable motes of violet that scattered across the black foam and thinned and went dark.
The nine clones of THE True Human Emperor floated amid the dissolution and gazed upon it, crowns of blood turning, saying nothing, as the largest lifeform Noah had ever killed stopped existing in the space between Dimensions, far from any sky it could ever graze again.
And Noah, through nine sets of senses at once, probed the dying words.
I curse you. Had that been a wail, or a working? He swept his sight across his clones, across his blood, across the connection running back to his body on a volcanic peak, hunting for any thread of violet that had latched where it should not have. He found nothing.
Which meant nothing had landed, or that whatever had landed was not a thing his senses knew how to find yet.
HUUM!
|The Woe Culture has been granted its death. Its nature has ended with it: the probability-tendrils woven across THE Golden Expanse and its surrounding regions have unraveled. The adversity it farmed will no longer be called. Your Provenance Essence has increased in concentration. Your PONDUS has increased. PONDUS: 12.|
|A separate matter, Master.|
|Due to settings enacted by THE Infiniverse, THE Tide That Owes Nothing has been quietly generating and preserving potential boons for all things you have given, for a while now. Leadership given to a domain. Protection given to millions. Marks given to the marked. Affirmation given to the grieving. The ledger has been kept, and none of it has yet been answered.|
|With the granting of death to a unique lifeform, the Tide has reached an unprecedented generation.|
|Shall the generation and preservation continue?|
...!
