Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 4141 Collective Ascendancy! III

Ra'Zan's skull dipped in acknowledgment, the movement somehow conveying satisfaction despite the absence of facial features to express it.

His gaze, if empty sockets burning with conceptual fire could be called a gaze, swept across the Early Veiled Shore, taking in the abundance of life that flourished here.

Sacred herbs reaching toward impossible maturity, trees bearing fruit that contained compressed possibilities, the golden sands themselves pulsing with vitality that defied measurement.

"Master," Ra'Zan spoke again, his voice carrying a different quality now, almost contemplative.

"I know a little of the Early Veiled Shore from your memories. Will Master permit me to plant... Death itself in these glorious cultivation plots?"

The question carried weight that made several nearby beings stop their activities entirely.

Even the Infiniverse, in her evolved form as the Infinite Early Osmontian Shore, turned her attention toward this exchange with interest that suggested she understood the implications.

Noah's eyes flashed with sharp consideration, the kind of look that preceded decisions that would echo through existence for eons uncounted.

Then, with the certainty of someone who had long ago learned that balance required both growth and ending, both harvest and fallow, he nodded.

"Go," he said, gesturing toward a distant corner of the Shore where the golden sands met something that might have been the edge of possibility itself.

"Take that corner for this purpose. The Shore shall soon be made even bigger." He paused, his gaze shifting to the massive form of the Primordial Stone Ape that stood silent and waiting, its newly dead existence radiating power that made the air itself uncertain. "Oh, and take the Ape with you. Teach it a sense of... tyranny."

Ra'Zan's response was immediate and perfect.

The Arch Lich performed the greeting of an Early Creature- that complex gesture that acknowledged power while maintaining dignity, that recognized hierarchy while preserving individual worth.

It was a farewell that carried within it the promise of terrible victories to come.

As he turned to leave, Ra'Zan began to hum.

The sound that emerged from his skeletal form transcended mere melody…it was a deathly symphony that would have made the Bard of Quintessence pause with professional jealousy.

Each note contained within it the ending of something, each rhythm the final heartbeat of a dying Wheel, each harmony the last breath of a collapsing Fold!

The Primordial Stone Ape followed behind him, its massive form moving with surprising grace for something that had transcended the limitations of life. Together, they moved toward their designated corner of the Shore, where death would be cultivated with the same care and precision that others reserved for life.

Noah watched them go with a smile that contained layers of satisfaction and anticipation.

Then, with the deliberate precision of someone compartmentalizing existence itself, he breathed out…a long, slow exhalation that carried with it the rage and murky emotions from the events with Gilgamesh, the fury, ns the cold satisfaction.

All of it, released into the sacred air of the Shore where even negative emotions would probably be transformed into something useful.

His mind recalibrated, focusing on what lay ahead rather than what had passed.

The past was prologue, the present was preparation, and the future... the future held possibilities that even his perception could only glimpse.

And for now, since one of the biggest boons from recent events was the Seed of the Principle of Perpetual Harvest reaching ten percent maturity, he would focus on something that promised to accelerate his already impossible rate of advancement even further.

The seven Glyphs of this terrifying Principle awaited forging- each one a crystallization of the concept that effort always mattered, that work always yielded results, that even failure planted seeds for future success!

These Glyphs had already shown themselves to be among his most terrifying tools for rapid advancement, transforming the smallest effort into incomprehensible gains.

Noah's eyes blazed with the particular light of someone about to do something that would make existence itself take notes!

The golden sands of the Early Veiled Shore seemed to hold their breath as Noah stood in contemplation, his eyes fixed on a prompt that floated before him with the weight of possibility itself.

The sacred light that perpetually bathed this impossible space cast his shadow in multiple directions, each one suggesting a different path forward, a different interpretation of what he was about to attempt.

The prompt hung there, patient and terrible in its implications.

|You can now forge up to ten Glyphs of the Seed of the Principle of Perpetual Harvest, up from the previous three. The cost is being scaled up to a heavy 500 billion in Complexity and Purity, but the boons will be amplified a hundredfold.|

Five hundred billion. The number rolled through his mind like thunder across an infinite plain!

From twenty-five billion to five hundred billion…a twentyfold increase in cost.

The weavings of it should have been prohibitive, the kind of barrier that would make even the most ambitious beings pause and reconsider.

But then there were those other words, hanging at the end like a promise written in starlight.

Amplified a hundredfold!

His mind raced through the calculations with the precision of someone who had long ago learned that numbers, when properly understood, were just another language for describing possibility.

When he had first utilized the Harvest Festival Endowment, it had granted him a range of a few dozen billion in Complexity and Purity.

Twenty-four billion, to be precise…he remembered the exact number because precision mattered when dealing with forces that could reshape existence itself!

If the effects were truly amplified a hundredfold...

Noah's eyes widened slightly, the only external sign of the revelation cascading through his consciousness. Twenty-four billion multiplied by one hundred. Two thousand four hundred billion. Or, more elegantly stated, 2.4 trillion!

The idea that he could grant such power with a single Glyph wasn't merely balance-breaking. It was the kind of capability that would make others pause and wonder if they had made an error in their calculations.

It was unfair on a scale that transcended unfairness and entered the realm of the absurd.

But he had to confirm it. Theory was one thing; reality had a habit of adding complications that even the most thorough calculations couldn't predict.

"Upon myself," he spoke, his voice carrying across the Shore with the certainty of someone issuing a command to existence itself, "let the Harvest Festival Endowment bloom once more."

HUUM!

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