Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 4805

Chapter 4805: Everything II

With all this knowledge regarding Chaos and Entropy and malformations, it all pointed to signs of Chaos truly being the most powerful.

But...there seemed to be more information he needed to obtain to better grasp this as he moved his thoughts elsewhere.

As THE Weaver of Existenc, he had many names, but he truly was a farmer at heart.

The task Absolutes had of purifying Existence and increasing its continued stability while they benefited from it was an act of cultivation and harvesting he would no doubt enjoy. It was not so different from tending fields or nurturing crops. You removed the weeds. You fed the soil. You reaped the rewards.

The scale was simply different.

Where a farmer might tend to acres, he would tend to portions of Observable Existence itself.

But as he received waves and waves of information, one singular ideology became abundantly clear.

Absolutes were a critical and glorious source of Weavings that Observable Existence very much loved. Otherwise, why would it mourn for the collapse of an Absolute? Why would the fabric of reality itself tremble when one of them ceased to be?

It was because Absolutes gave back.

Their very existence was a net positive for all of Observable Existence.

And now Noah understood why THE Secretive Eon had spoken of replacement rather than mere collapse. Why she had emphasized that when she killed an Absolute, nothing was lost.

Because if you killed an Absolute without replacing them, you robbed Observable Existence of one of its caretakers.

You created a wound that would never heal.

But at this point...

Noah sat upon the Throne of THE Weavers.

No.

The Throne of THE Weaver of Existence.

It was his now.

The three seats fused into one supported his weight with the recognition of legitimate inheritance. The golden threads that extended from it in all directions had turned blue-gold where they connected to his existence. The illusory figures of THE Weavers behind him continued their hymns, but the songs had shifted from mourning to something that sounded almost like welcome.

He tapped his finger on the armrest thoughtfully.

His body was surrounded by countless golden strings that pulsed with the rhythm of fate itself. Through them, he could see the endless waves of Corrupted Growths surrounding the many lines of Principles related to Fate. Green and obsidian parasites clustering around pure concepts, feeding on them, slowly transforming order into chaos.

He could express his Formless Depth upon them and purify them.

It would be simple enough.

But...

"I have claimed The First Tongue."

HUUM!

His voice boomed like a grand king making a command rather than a request.

The Palace trembled in response. The golden threads vibrated with recognition of his authority. The hymns behind him swelled with anticipation.

"I wish to observe and purify Malformed Authorities, Corrupted Growths... that permeate all across The First Tongue."

BOOM!

Blue-gold light erupted from him!

|But THE Weavers did not lay a Claim over The First Tongue, as they were limited to their domain of Fate, and you are not so limited.|

|Due to your current Depth and Immensity, paired with the access you gained by collapsing an Absolute, an unknown percentage of THE First Tongue and how it interacts with Observable Existence is free for observation and manipulation at the most basic degree.|

BOOM!

In THE Agora of Primordial Judgment, The First Tongue permeated through every faction’s territory like an invisible ocean that all beings swam through without knowing. The Glossarians naturally had denser concentrations, but even the Paradoxians and Chaosites and Existentialists utilized language. Even they spoke. Even they wrote. Even they thought in words that were derivatives of The First Tongue. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

It was fundamental.

It wove through the components of the other three Weavings of the Oldest Paradox of Existence in ways that were both complementary and essential.

Where Paradox twisted reality, The First Tongue provided the framework for that twisting. Where Chaos disrupted order, The First Tongue gave names to that disruption. Where Existence simply was, The First Tongue described what that being meant.

The First Tongue touched all of them.

He perceived all lines of Principles nearby, golden threads of Fate and silver threads of other concepts and crimson threads of yet others, all of them surrounded by the blue-gold sea of linguistic authority. He even sensed all of THE Infiniverse, his own Early Veiled Shore where his Civilization grew and flourished.

He felt portions of Muspelheim, the Primordial Realm of fire where Skoll had originated. He touched the edges of the Early Veiled Shore of THE Creature himself, that vast domain where the most powerful of THE Four had built his Belly of Existence.

And moments later, Noah could also perceive the countless Corrupted Growths hugging different areas of this sea like parasites or weeds.

They were everywhere.

But not evenly distributed.

Some areas were fairly empty of them, the blue-gold sea running clean and pure as if they had recently been cleansed. These regions sparkled with stability that spoke of diligent maintenance.

Other areas were more filled with corruption, green-obsidian masses clustering around linguistic concepts and slowly transforming their meanings. These areas had not been cleansed in a while, or corruption was propagating at higher frequencies due to instability in the underlying Weavings.

Noah observed the patterns with the calculating eye of a farmer assessing his fields.

The regions most infected with Corrupted Growths were concentrated primarily in two areas.

Paradox.

And Existence!