Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 5222

Chapter 5222: The Tongue! The Tongue!!! I

The warmth arrived first.

That glorious warmth of Infinity in its most concentrated state, pressing against every surface of his dissolving weavings with the patient embrace of a medium receiving something back into itself. Noah was smiling inside it!

A genuine smile, the specific expression of a being who had just had an extraordinarily good time doing something that had ended badly and was already mentally replanning the next attempt.

He replayed the battle.

The moment Ragnar’s fist had landed before his perception had finished calculating where Ragnar’s fist was going. The moment his tail had driven into Ragnar’s midsection and found nothing to devour because the man drew on Prime Causes rather than Infinity. The specific quality of being held and swung and driven face-first into the Wandering Territories.

He replayed it again.

And again.

The exhilaration was not diminished by the outcome. It was produced by the outcome, the specific pleasure of battle that had genuinely exceeded his current capacity and had shown him exactly where his current capacity ended and what the space beyond that ending looked like. He needed to know these things!

Calibration through comfortable engagements produced comfortable calibration. Calibration through Ragnar V49 produced brutal but accurate calibration.

He could feel his power across the brief duration of his recovery.

It had grown. Not dramatically. But measurably, genuinely, the foundations he had brought into THE Apeiron Hadean Organ of Infinity carrying a slightly different density than the foundations that had entered the engagement in the Wandering Territories.

THE Bellum Cause integration had deepened through the fight, the Prime Cause settling more naturally into his foundational architecture now that it had been tested under actual Paleozoic Scale pressure rather than only under Dreamstone contact.

He had to fight and war more to gain an even deeper integration!

The flow of Infinity through his Apeiron form had become more familiar, the Observable Force channels more responsive, the relationship between what he intended and what his body produced tightening toward the automatic that mastery produced.

Ten minutes.

That was his return window as THE Primus Apeiron. And the Gilded Ones in the Wandering Territories were currently sitting with significantly reduced Infinity reserves, the gigaparsec-radius detonation having reduced their cultivation capacity in ways they had not anticipated and could not immediately replenish.

They would not expect him to return. They had watched him get ripped apart. The reasonable assumption was that whatever he was, it was finished.

The singular obstacle was Ragnar.

He turned the entity over in his mind with the specific attention he gave to problems that had clear solutions that he hadn’t found yet. An Ira Gilded One operating at Silurian Paleozoic Scale, integrated with THE Dominion Cause and THE Bellum Cause at levels that made the Prime Cause authority a native expression of his foundations rather than an accessed capability.

No Infinity in his body for the Devour to grip. A body that treated Noah’s most powerful strikes as mild ambient information. Speed that bypassed the Hadean Mind’s perception extensions.

And behind Ragnar, a Superbius Gilded One who had not even entered the engagement, standing back with the cold composure of a being who had sent their instrument and found the instrument sufficient, which meant the being controlling Ragnar’s deployment was operating from a position of such genuine confidence that Ragnar’s capabilities had not prompted them to contribute.

Silurian Paleozoic beings were not to be underestimated!

Gilded Ones truly were genuinely powerful!

The other thing that sat in his mind was the specific detail Pillow Talk had delivered just before the collapse. Ragnar V49. Not Ragnar. V49, which implied a versioning system, which implied that V49 was the forty-ninth iteration of a cloned and engineered Ira Gilded One built to the same specifications.

Which meant there were at minimum forty-eight other versions of this entity somewhere in the broader arrangement, potentially hundreds, potentially a production methodology that could generate more on whatever timeline the engineering framework required.

He had started as a man struggling against monsters in dungeons. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"Hoooo."

He belonged where he was. He fought to be where he was. He was just as grander...if not grander than the monsters that had lived for eons.

What if they were Gilded Ones? What if they steered THE First Cause itself? He was steering his own Infinite Cause. He had his own Scales. He had his own framework that operated outside every framework they had spent seven ages building!

He mattered. His dreams mattered. His ideals mattered. The Bounded woman his existence had come from mattered, her Infinite Cause originating something the Gilded had never managed to produce despite their eons and their engineering and their Prime Cause access and their seven ages of methodology!

He was ridiculously young in their terms.

That was not a weakness.

HUUM!

Infinity buzzed through the Organ as his form rebuilt with the specific quality of something returning grander than it had departed. The strength flowing outward confirmed it, the rebuilt Primus Apeiron configuration carrying the same measurable growth he had registered in his first moments of recovery, the battle’s adversity having done exactly what adversity was supposed to do.

He checked his other bodies.

One was in THE Braneworld Observable Existence, inside the Ubergulden vessel, in a situation that involved the specific risks of tasting the lips of a Royal Gilded One as he tasted her existence while surrounded by Magna Sorora and a Superbius brother who had recently attempted to throttle him.

A challenge and a risk of an entirely different category than Ragnar’s fists, but a challenge and a risk nonetheless, and the power augmentation flowing from the Primaris Bond was genuine regardless of the social danger of the context producing it.

One stood before THE Cognitio Dreamstone in THE Sanctum Velanthra, his palm making contact as the stone had begun to illuminate. Old Man Zeke was presumably watching.

Maybe before he returned to the Wandering Territories and resumed the battle with Ragnar, he would have another Prime Cause integrated into his foundations!