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Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse (Web Novel) - Chapter 5628: Accountable!
Chapter 5628: Accountable!
This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl
The celebration was winding down when Warden Yrsa appeared behind him with the golden collar open in her hands."Your service has concluded, big guy" she said. "Protocol resumes."
Noah lowered his head slightly, and let her close THE GILDED CLAUSE around his neck, and the click of it rang through a hall that had gone quiet and uncomfortable at the sight, seven cured Descendants watching their miracle be leashed again.
"None of that," Mahishasura had said hours ago, about a shove.
He said nothing at all about a collar.
And within Noah, behind the lowered eyes of a compliant prisoner, his two halves were in session!
"We have everything," THE Open Hand said. "All the memories. The plan was information, and the plan is complete."
"The plan has matured," THE Closed Crown answered. "Look at the room, brother. Every asset of this workshop is standing in one sealable box. An Enforcer whose measure we now hold. A Warden whose blood ties to the ninth chair. Seven Veiled Descendants that answer to our commands. This opportunity will not reassemble itself easily"
"So..."
"Kharvel watched Mahishasura for two thousand years without blinking." The Crown’s voice echoed. "The seven compared themselves to him constantly. Their reckoning agrees: deep, but not past the middle thirties in attributes. Four of them hold him for a breath. Seven hold him for longer. Seven, plus surprise, plus a sealed Dimension, plus us... hold him for as long as we need."
"And Yrsa?"
"Yrsa," said the Crown, "is mine."
A pause, and then the Hand, quietly: "Seal the box."
HUUM!
It began with nothing anyone could see.
Along seven threads written into the language of seven existences, options opened. Not commands, not yet, only readiness, and seven celebrating Descendants felt nothing at all as their bodies became pieces on a board they could not perceive!
Through the Weft-thread bound quietly to this pocket Dimension a while ago, crimson rivers only one being could see slid across every seam and door and fold of the marble abode, and latched, and held.
The box sealed. No signal would leave it. Nothing would leave it!
Then, gently, a thread pulled.
Baelgrim, laughing, waved Mahishasura over toward the long table. "My friend! Come, sit with us. For years I could not taste food, only need it. Sit, and watch a man eat for joy."
And Mahishasura came, of course, smiling his composed smile, drifting into the heart of his collection’s happiness, accepting wine he did not drink, seating himself among cured brethren!
Sylvaine drifted to his left, telling him of the blade. Othrys took his right, making him say the name again. The three loungers closed in behind with their cups, warm, adoring, casual.
And across the hall, on the marble floor, Kharvel’s eyes opened from the first sleep of many millennia, clear and rested and calm, and he rose without a sound.
Yrsa noticed none of it. Why would she? A host among his grateful cured, a hall full of joy, a prisoner standing collared and docile at her side.
Seven Descendants moved in the same instant, in complete silence.
No shout. No flare!
Baelgrim’s arms closed around Mahishasura’s body from the side with the whole of a mountain’s mass behind them, Sylvaine’s blade was through his shoulder before the wine in his hand had finished falling, Othrys and the three took his limbs, and Kharvel arrived last and struck once, precisely, at a point below the Enforcer’s ribs where its lineage was written heavily, and the composed immensity of Descendant Mahishasura hit his own marble floor under the mass of his entire collection!
BOOOOM!
The pocket Dimension shook!
"Wh-" Yrsa’s wravings of protocol shattered!
Her pale eyes went wide, flicking from the pile of silent violence to the exits that were no longer exits, shock and horror arriving on a face that had never once worn either. "What... what is-"
And beside her, the collared prisoner rose from his docile stillness, unhurried, and rolled his neck against the golden band.
"Crazy stuff, isn’t it?" Noah said mildly. "Existence is truly vast, and full of terrors."
...!
Yrsa turned to him very slowly, and the shock on her face cooled and hardened into something ancient.
"This is your doing?!"
Noah did not reply.
Instead, at the sides of his head, two small figures of stellar blue-gold stirred, and one of them, the cross-legged one, bowed out, and the other, arms folded, dark gold at its edges, opened its eyes for the first time.
"My turn," said THE Closed Crown.
And it stopped being a figure at his temple, and became him.
HUUM!
The transformation rolled through Noah’s body from the marrow outward. His stature rose, broadened, settled heavier, shoulders widening beneath a mantle of pressure that bent the marble floor into a shallow bowl beneath his feet!
Dark gold bled into the crimson of his aura and hardened at its edges. His hair lifted and darkened at the roots, his features cut themselves a fraction crueler, and his eyes went deep burning gold with black singularity pupils, the face of the tyrant half worn openly at last!
THE GILDED CLAUSE, still locked around his neck, sat on him now the way jewelry sits on a king.
|THE PROVENANCE OF THE CLOSED CROWN has fully embodied your existence.|
|For the duration of the embodiment, the sundered half acts as the whole. All processes are surrendered to dominion.|
|Your attributes have momentarily exceeded the wall. For the duration: VERITAS: 25. PROVENANCE: 25. POTENTIA: INFINITE. PONDUS: 25.|
Yrsa looked at the tyrant standing in her prisoner’s place, at the collar doing nothing, at everything her records had recorded about him burning down in a single second.
She roared as she moved!
Hundreds of Loom-blades tore into being around her in layered orbits and fell on him as one, and the battle began, and it was cold and it was brutal!
He did not dodge. Dodging was for the light. His body had become unfathomably heavy, twenty-five of PONDUS packed into every limb, and he walked forward through the blade-storm as white edges rang off his frame and opened thin lines that closed before they finished opening, and his right arm rose and fell like an ancient hammer, reinforced in Provenance Essence.
BOOM!
The blow caught her shoulders and drove her through a colonnade, through a second, into the terraced gardens in a trench of shattered marble!
His Quarks were grand!
He was a Provenance fucking Lifeform!
He held IMMENSITY!
She rose spitting blood, blades reforming, and her calm was gone now, fully gone.
Blood drops rose around him, crimson gold with stellar light, and went out in fans. Detonations walked across the garden in even rows, eating her Argent Loom ring by ring, and she answered with a lance of woven white that took him through the shoulder and out the back, and he closed his hand on it and let his weight arrive.
CRACK!
The lance shattered. She was already behind him, both palms to his spine, and the pressure of twenty-eight PONDUS driven to its edge slammed him face-first through the garden and into the bedrock of the pocket Dimension itself!
She was still powerful!
"You should have stayed a prisoner," she breathed, pressing down, blades regathering above her back in a rising thicket. "You should have-"
"Kharvel," said the Crown silently.
The Descendant of the Unsleeping Watch had never stopped moving since his first strike. He came out of her blind angle and hit her exactly there!
It bought one moment of shock and horror from Yrsa!
The Crown used it whole. Noah’s body turned inside her broken body of blades, seized her wrist, folded her guard inward with a hammer-blow that collapsed her defense entirely, and plunged his hand into her chest.
Blood drops flooded in behind it. Crimson gold poured through her existence in rivers, drops seeded into every current of her, and with them went the Mark, gripping her Lifeline, closing around everything she was, and Warden Yrsa’s pale eyes went very wide and then very dim as her body seized and her orbits of white rained down dead around them both!
He did not withdraw his hand.
He walked, and dragged her with it, back through the ruined gardens, through the broken colonnades, into the marble hall where Veiled Descendants held a heavily injured Enforcer pinned to his own floor.
Mahishasura’s black-and-gold coat was torn, his pale gold hair was matted dark, and his amber eyes, sighting the tyrant coming on with the Warden’s body hanging from his buried hand, went grave, and then hateful, and stayed hateful.
Noah stopped above him, and stood over everything.
The sealed Dimension. The pinned collector!
The dead-eyed daughter of the ninth chair dragged forward like a settled account!
Seven Descendants kneeling!
Dark gold pressure rolled off Noah in slow tides that bent the wine pools flat, and when he spoke, the Crown gave every word the unhurried weight of a thing that had already happened.
"You built a very reasonable case, Enforcer. I listened to all of it. The appetite subtracted. The vessels chained." He crouched slowly, bringing his burning gold eyes level with the hateful amber ones, Yrsa’s body settling on the marble between them with his hand still seated in her chest.
"But your own Warden taught me the true doctrine of your Pax, on the day she took me. She stood over everything and she told me that followers are merely followers." His voice dropped lower, colder, final.
"It is always those who lead... that need to be held accountable."
BOOM!
