The demon horde fully retreated back to the demon sector.
Shadows peeled away from the battlefield, commanders folding space to extract their forces. Lesser demons scattered into the void, their formations dissolving like smoke. Within minutes, the sprawling mass of corruption and death that had threatened to drown the defensive lines simply... vanished.
The warriors, seeing this, couldn't believe it.
Across all three defensive lines, some warriors laughed in shock, others trembled, and others simply stared at the fading shadows, unable to accept what their eyes had seen.
It was the first time most of them were seeing the demons retreating.
The southern line erupted first. Cheers broke out among the younger warriors, fists raised, voices raw with disbelief and triumph. Infinitus clan members embraced, their formations dissolving into clusters of celebration.
The siege, one that should have lasted weeks, perhaps months, was over within hours. And the casualties? Far lower than any siege in memory.
Everyone knew the reason.
The northern and southern lines had fought well, but they had been secondary.
The central line had shattered the balance of war itself.
For the moment, however, disbelief gave way to celebration.
The clans, the mercenaries, the Stellars, even the hardened veterans let themselves feel victory.
On the central line, Kai collapsed onto his back, chest heaving, grinning at the void above. "We actually did it."
Seraphina dropped beside him, "Of course we did. Did you doubt?"
"Yes," Kai admitted. "Constantly."
She laughed, the sound bright and unguarded.
Around them, Origin warriors gathered in loose clusters. Mira sat quietly, her inscription tattoos still glowing faintly from channeling the resonance network. Helena leaned against Scarlett, both covered in ichor and ash. Ironwood stood with his arms crossed, nodding approval at the younger warriors.
Thomas descended beside Elara, his fire domain fading.
But far from the cheers, deep in the distant murk of the edge void, another presence watched.
Arkan Valis, Aethelia's hidden weapon; one of the Emperor's reserved blades.
He drifted in the darkness beyond the defensive lines, his shadow essence presence suppressed to near invisibility, and corrosion essence dissolved any residual mana trails.
He was a ghost in the void, trained for centuries in the art of assassination.
And yet his hands trembled.
"Impossible... this is impossible," he whispered.
He had arrived on the Emperor's orders, intending to kill Adrian in the chaos of the siege.
The plan had been simple. Wait for the battle to intensify, wait for Adrian to exhaust himself fighting demon commanders, then strike from the void.
He had waited, watched, and searched for an opening.
He had approached the battlefield boundary earlier, intending to test the waters.
Arkan had folded space, preparing to blink within striking distance. His corrosion essence had gathered along his blade, ready to dissolve flesh and bone.
But the moment he drifted closer to Adrian, something pressed against his existence.
Not a domain, not even conscious attention, just... presence. Something that felt like death itself leaning forward to take a better look.
Arkan had frozen mid-motion, every instinct in his body screaming. And in that instant, he understood. He understood instantly that if he struck, he would die.
There was no variation of outcome, no gamble, no hopeful margin for survival.
He would simply die.
So he had retreated immediately, folding space to put distance between himself and the central line.
"What... what is he?" Arkan whispered.
He'd killed Stellar Lords before. He'd assassinated patriarchs, crippled clans, dismantled threats to the Aethelian Empire.
But Adrian Blackwood wasn't a target.
He was a natural disaster wearing human skin.
With no other choice, he triggered his node.
A ripple of space folded into a circular projection, blue light bleeding into the void. The face of the Aethelian Emperor appeared.
"Did you end him?" the Emperor asked without preamble.
Arkan swallowed hard, "Your Majesty... I cannot."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, "Explain."
"His presence alone is stronger than me." The words tasted like ash. "If I approach him, I will die."
Silence stretched between them; the Emperor's expression darkened.
He had already reviewed the frontline reports and had seen the recordings of Origin warriors wielding impossible techniques.
Already seen signs that Adrian and the Origin Clan were no longer bound by the pace of normal cultivation.
Still, hearing Arkan say it shook something in him.
Arkan Valis was not weak. He was one of Aethelia's most dangerous assets, a tri-essence Stellar Warlord who'd eliminated threats across the galaxy. His combat record spanned centuries.
And he was admitting defeat without even engaging.
"There is something deeply wrong with him, and with his clan," the Emperor said slowly, "No beings should grow at this rate."
Arkan hesitated, then offered the only plausible explanation he could think of.
"Your Majesty... perhaps he took them to one of the structures on the edge. If they trained there, such progress could be possible."
The Emperor's gaze narrowed; the idea was not impossible.
Structures at the edge existed, each containing profound time distortion and trials. Constructs from other galaxies, filled with phenomenon zones and guardian spirits that tested cultivators beyond their limits.
Time flowed differently inside; years could pass within while only days elapsed outside.
But they were few, heavily monitored, and impossible to approach unnoticed.
And these structures were not revealed to most in the galaxy; only the imperial clans monopolised it.
The Emperor himself had trained in one during his youth, emerging decades later with power that catapulted him to the throne.
"No," the Emperor said finally. "The edge is monitored. No one could move an entire clan into the edge without our detection; this is something else entirely."
His voice grew colder, "And because we do not know what it is, killing him now becomes more important than ever. Every day we delay, he grows."
Arkan straightened, swallowing his frustration. "Then... what are your orders, Majesty?"
The Emperor's gaze sharpened, "Return to the empire. I will handle Adrian myself."
Arkan bowed, relieved and terrified all at once. "Yes, Majesty."
The projection faded, leaving Arkan alone in the void once more.
He did not wait another heartbeat.
Space folded around him, and he blinked. He disappeared into the void, abandoning the edge entirely.
His retreat wasn't strategic; it was survival. He knew what the Emperor would be sending next.
Arkan didn't have the guts to stay here anymore.
...
Back in the command hall, the celebration roared onward, and even Thalren and Seraphis allowed themselves a moment of relief.
But while the others rejoiced, Adrian felt something else tug at his perception.
It began as a faint hum, like a subtle tremor in the fabric of space. Then came the sight, those strange, delicate lines spreading through the void, weaving their way across the universe.
He excused himself quietly from the gathering and walked toward his assigned private chamber.
Warriors parted as he passed, still celebrating, oblivious to the tremor rippling through his perception.
The lines grew clearer, weaving through the void like rivers of light flowing in impossible directions.
He reached a corridor, and the noise of the hall faded behind sealed doors.
The lines exploded into clarity.
Shimmering strands of varying colours stretched like rivers of light through the emptiness between atoms. They flowed, twisted, and danced in ways that defied Euclidean space.
Adrian stopped walking, he raised his hand, watching the lines bend around his fingers, undisturbed by his presence yet responding to it somehow.
He forced himself forward, continuing down the corridor toward his assigned private chamber. Every step made the phenomenon more vivid, more real.
When he arrived inside the private chamber, he let his perception fully settle.
The door sealed behind him with a soft hiss. Silence wrapped around him like a shroud.
Adrian stood in the center of the room and closed his eyes.
Then the illusion broke; the lines were not lines at all.
He opened his eyes, and understanding crashed through him like a tidal wave.
It looked like lines because of its denseness. When he looked deeper, they were symbols. He saw they moved, sometimes they might spin, they might cross, or they might even coil around, forming countless complex symbols, all of them containing a multitude of mysteries. This sort of union between simplicity and complexity revealed a harmonic beauty at every turn, leaving one yearning for more.
Adrian's pulse quickened. His Source Eyes strained, peeling back layer after layer of these lines.
And these were actually symbols of the language of mana. When he studied it, he was shocked. This was not merely the truths of concepts, but rather it was rules and commandments!
Not descriptions of what space was, not explanations of what a concept did, but declarations.
Space must separate what exists… yet connect what is meant to be reached.
Fire must burn. Gravity must pull.
Rules, Laws, Codes written into existence itself.
Adrian staggered backward, catching himself against the wall.
"Someone, or something, had written these rules."
The words escaped him as a whisper, trembling with the weight of revelation.
"So it's true…"
There was no way for these rules to be formed naturally!
His thoughts echoed back to the fifth trial, to the Guardian Spirit's words. "Doubt everything. For doubt is the key beyond Stellar."
He was doubting now, doubting the universe.
What could dictate the rules of space and void?
"Is this something we call 'nature'?" Adrian murmured, staring at the symbols rotating through the void before him. "Or even the concept of nature was written..."
He didn't know if there existed a being who defined everything, or if that being was the universe itself, what everyone calls nature...
The implications threatened to overwhelm him. Every concept he'd mastered, every essence he'd comprehended, all of it followed rules inscribed by something.
He raised his hand and willed fire essence into his palm.
The flames burned bright, yet beneath their shape, beneath their heat, beneath the familiar feel of the concept… he saw the same rotating symbols, dictating the rules of its existence.
The fire danced obediently, conforming to commandments written into it.
He probed deeper, searching the essence.
He could not touch the symbols, nor could he alter them. They remained locked, but at least now he understood they were there.
"Everything follows these rules," Adrian whispered.
Then, turning inward, he examined his Source Seed.
His consciousness dove beneath flesh and bone, past the mana channels threaded through his body, down into the crystalline core that defined his existence.
Inside the seed, the symbols were even clearer. He could see his source acting as a blank canvas that allowed any concept to be side by side. Sections of the seed were divided like chambers, each storing the rules of a different concept.
Fire in one chamber, Space in another, each concept existed in its own isolated section, perfectly preserved, perfectly distinct.
He reached into one section, then another.
The boundaries between them felt solid, immutable. Yet beneath that solidity, he sensed potential.
He found that he could manipulate these internal rules, not the rules of the universe, but the way his Seed held them.
And he felt he could break these sections and merge these concepts to create something new.
"Is this the path beyond stellar?"
Adrian opened his eyes, staring at the chamber wall without truly seeing it.
He didn't know, and he didn't know the after effects of breaking the section and merging the concepts, but still he wanted to try this...
Experimentation, understanding and growth. The same principles that had carried him this far.
To be on the safer side, he tried with two concepts he only had basic galactic knowledge of: Plant and Wood.
Both were minor concepts, barely explored, their chambers small and uncomplicated compared to the vast territories occupied by fire or space.
Adrian focused his will on the boundary between them.
The moment he willed for the section to be broken, the rules spilled, interlaced into a unified chamber.
The sensation was immediate and disorienting, like watching two different liquids merge into one.
He summoned the new essence.
A green-brown energy coiled in his palm; its presence gave a feel of living bark and growing vines. But it did not behave differently, and it did not grant him a new ability or newfound strength.
Adrian frowned, manipulating the essence. It responded smoothly, but even the mana consumption was exactly similar to when he would call these essences separately.
It was two concepts simply coexisting.
"What's the purpose of the merge… if nothing changes?"
He dismissed the essence, frustration creeping into his thoughts.
He didn't risk breaking all the sections. He could experiment more, but not recklessly, not when he barely understood what the rules even meant.
The source seed was his foundation, and he needed to learn more about this before doing anything to it.
Still, he knew one thing with certainty.
Concepts are built from rules, and he could manipulate the rules within his seed.
He was tracing the edge of something vast, something that lay beyond the Stellar stage.
Adrian settled cross-legged on the chamber floor.
Around him, the symbols continued their eternal dance, indifferent to his discoveries.
But he would understand them.
Eventually.