Infinite Mana in the Apocalypse - Chapter 4492

Chapter 4492: You Sacrilegius Savage! I

Aethon stood amidst the ruins of the shattered canyon, his massive storm-forged hand outstretched as snowflakes fell upon his skin and did not melt. They landed softly, each one a perfect crystalline geometric proof of Elemental Authority, and he stared at them with something like wonder.

They were blue-gold and vibrant and impossible, carrying the weight of Sextillions in Complexity, enough power to crush a lesser being into quantum dust, yet they rested on his palm with the gentleness of a memory.

This is Elemental, Aethon thought as the sensation washed over his existential core, his mind reeling with recognition.

It was undeniable. It wasn’t mimicry or a clever illusion spun from Mana or Hunger, but the fundamental resonance of the Elements themselves, pure and unadulterated and singing with a frequency he hadn’t felt since the golden age of the Earliest Folds.

How?

His thoughts raced and collided like tectonic plates. ‘Is this a branch? A lost lineage of our Civilization that evolved in isolation? Or are they something else entirely?’

He could sense the Hunger in them, the raw devouring appetite woven through the Elemental Authority.

‘Can a Civilization imitate another so perfectly? Can Hunger digest the concept of Fire and spit it back out as Ash that burns hotter than the flame?’

He looked deeper into the snowflake, letting its authority seep into his pores, and felt the answer rise within him.

No.

The thought was immediate and absolute. ‘Imitation is flawed. Imitation lacks the soul. This… this feels like The Early Flame. This feels like the Elemental Dominions before they left us behind…’

…!

He looked up, his binary star eyes sweeping across the battlefield to where the armies of the Tyrant stood motionless. Fifteen million entities frozen in a tableau of disciplined power, their hands raised and weapons lowered, waiting for a single command that had not yet come.

And at their center, floating above the carnage like a titan of winter and war, was the Tyrant himself.

Aethon had met beings like this before, had stood in the presence of Gilgamesh, the ancient Leader who had believed his will could reshape existence itself. He saw the resemblance now, not in form but in the presence, the sheer undeniable gravity of a being who believed with absolute certainty that his will was the only law that mattered.

Silence stretched across the sanctuary, heavy and suffocating as Aethon looked back at his legion.

Tens of thousands of his brothers and sisters, Living Elementals of void-wind, magma-titans, storm-callers, were looking at him with eyes filled with confusion and fear and a desperate aching hope. The voice that had awakened them, the voice that had promised them entry into THE Loom, had felt like Elemental Authority too, but it had been cold and transactional and had asked them to die for a promise that was false.

‘It condemned us,’ Aethon realized as bitterness rose in his throat like bile. ‘It woke us up only to spend our lives as currency, to buy a few more seconds of delay against the inevitable.’

He had followed the order because that was his Way, because an Elemental does not stop burning until the fuel is gone, because if death was certain then dying with purpose was the only dignity left.

But now…

He looked at the Tyrant and at the blue-gold snow that promised a storm that never ends, and the question rose within him unbidden.

Was this salvation? Or was it just another form of consumption?

Aethon’s gaze hardened and he looked directly at the Tyrant, his voice a rumble that shook the frost from the surrounding stones.

“Tyrant,” Aethon called out. “What is… leadership to you?”

…!

The question hung in the air, simple and devastating.

Leadership.

Noah looked down at the Elemental Titan and his armored form pulsed with concentrated authority as he considered his answer.

“Leadership,” Noah replied, his voice echoing from everywhere at once and carried by the snow, “is not the spending of lives but the investment of them.” He lowered his hand slightly and the snow intensified, swirling around him like a cloak of stars. “There are those who lead from behind, pushing their people into the fire to warm their own hands. They call it sacrifice and they call it necessity.”

His voice hardened with contempt.

“I call it cowardice. I dislike sacrifice.”

HUUM!

“Leadership is the shield that breaks first and the blade that strikes first and the will that refuses to bend when Existence demands submission.” Noah swept his arm across the horizon, encompassing his armies and his people and his Way. “I do not ask my people to die for me. I ask them to live for the Civilization we are building together.”

He leaned forward and his presence became crushing and absolute.

“I would never lie to them or tell them to accept death as a strategy. At this very moment I am fighting against THE Loom and fighting against the Fallout and fighting against the very concept of an Ending.”

His voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried across Gigaparsecs.

“Leadership is the promise that if we fall, we fall together. But we will not fall today, or in the days to come.”

…!

Aethon listened and closed his eyes as a memory surfaced, ancient and vivid and unbidden.

A shore of golden sand and a gathering of titans, and at the center a figure of hazy indistinct power, THE Creature, speaking to them not as subjects but as potentials.

Why? Aethon wondered. Why do I think of HIM now?

He opened his eyes and looked at the Tyrant, and he did not understood.

THE Creature had nothing to do with this being.

Aethon looked at his hand again where the blue-gold snowflake was still there, unmelting and perfect, and he made his choice.

He raised his hand high and the Civilizational Authority of Elemental within him flared to life, burning with a desperate final brilliance as magma and storm and void mixed into a beacon of pure intent.

“I do not do this for me,” Aethon announced, his voice cracking with the weight of his decision, “but for my brothers and sisters. As a leader I have to take care of them.” He shook his head slowly. “And the thought of betraying their trust, of leading them into a meaningless death for a lie… it is too heavy to bear.”

…!

He turned his back to Noah and faced his legion, drawing in a breath that shook the earth beneath him.

“Brothers! Sisters of the Elements!”

BOOM!

His voice was a volcanic eruption that silenced every other sound in the sanctuary.

“Heed my last command as your leader!”

The tens of thousands of Elementals straightened as the magma cooled and the winds stilled, and they listened with the absolute attention of soldiers who had followed him through eons.

“LIVE!”

Aethon roared the word and it shattered the despair that had hung over them for countless ages.

“The Civilization of Elementals permeates within THE Loom and outside of it. It is not a place but a Way!” He pointed back at the Tyrant and at the storm of blue-gold snow that surrounded him. “For the sake of your lives… will you follow the Civilization of Elements here? The Elements that will rage to keep your light burning with glory?!”

…!

The legion looked at one another and then at the Iron Concordat standing like statues of invincibility, and then at the Tyrant who offered a storm instead of a grave. Hesitation rippled through them like wind across water, doubt and fear warring with desperate hope.

But then they looked at Aethon, their leader, the one who had woken first and refused to let them die in the cold.

One by one their expressions firmed as the magma hardened into resolve and the lightning stabilized into purpose.

A Magma Lord raised his fist high.

“For the Elements!”

“For the Storm!”

“For Life!”

Tens of thousands of fists rose into the air and the roar was deafening, a chorus of elemental power that shook the sanctuary to its bedrock and made the very fabric of existence tremble.

“We follow the Civilization of Elements wherever it may be!”

…!

Aethon watched them and a sad proud smile touched his cracked lips as he spoke the final words.

“The peaceful snow cascades all around you,” he whispered, but his voice carried to every single one of them through the resonance of their shared nature. “The peaceful snow burning with an extremely pure Civilizational Authority of Elemental. Pay your respects to this authority.”

…!

The words were simple but the effect was absolute.

The Legion of Elementals reached out with magma hands and wind-form tendrils and void-claws, reaching into the air to catch the falling blue-gold flakes. They closed their eyes and accepted what was being offered, not conquest but recognition, not subjugation but belonging.

WAA!

It was a profound moment in time as the transfer of allegiance occurred, And the moment the commitment was made, the blue-gold snow that covered the Injunction Sanctuary of Law changed fundamentally.

It stopped falling gently and began to spin and howl with building intensity.

HUUM!

It became a storm.

The Civilizational Authority of Elemental surged outward and covered the entire domain in a blizzard of absolute tyrannical power, and the sanctuary itself trembled with the weight of what had just occurred!

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