Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 5407

Chapter 5407: THE Hall of Swords II

The sensation Noah felt was truly inexplicable.

His body in THE Infiniverse had to sift through boundless weavings of information, the breakdown of THE Sealed One pouring recovered knowledge into him faster than any heartbeat could have managed, and out of all of it he had to decide on the direction of his Osmontian Tongue, because he could finally enact its backbone. THE Genesis Tesseract had been a truly terrifying loot to make all of this possible at once!

A First Cause’s worth of beginning, eaten and refined into him, and now he stood at the threshold of authoring a foundational language of existence around nothing but himself.

But even as that body dealt with those boons, another of his bodies was arriving somewhere that made his existence buzz.

So he split his attention cleanly. He let one part of himself digest and quantify the finalized boons of THE Genesis Tesseract, working through the Tongue and the recovered records at leisure, while he turned his focus to the body that was about to come face to face with the true powerhouses of the Swords of Existence.

And here, he planned to test yet another of his Foundations.

THE Third Foundation. THE Mirror That Keeps. Any capability his existence observed was studied and quietly retained, made his over time without any conscious effort. He grew stronger in the presence of stronger beings rather than diminished by them, their excess feeding his becoming, and what he learned once he never lost. Proximity to power was, for him, a passive harvest.

He grew stronger around stronger beings. So.

Bring them on!

WAA!

|You have arrived in THE Hall of Swords. This location is accessed through a gateway in THE Hallowed Demesne but does not reside within it. You have entered a separate, self-contained Dimension of Existence. Spatial egress is not guaranteed by your own authority here; you exist at the sufferance of whatever holds this dimension.|

Primordial Source flared, and Noah appeared in THE Hall of Swords alongside Dame Seraphine and several other Mesozoic Scale beings, drawn through the gateway out of THE Hallowed Demesne and into the separate Dimension of Existence beyond it.

He looked around the place at once, taking the measure of it before he let it take the measure of him. It was grand and ancient, a hall that had held its purpose across more ages than most existences lasted. A distant obsidian throne of woven swords rose at its heart, and around it stood shrouded figures of esteemed power, and the moment he and the others arrived, the auras in the hall turned toward them.

No. Not toward them.

Toward him!

HUUM!

He could feel it clearly. Every gaze in the hall settled on him specifically, the new Sword, the survivor, the one who had spoken the buried name. And yet none of the gazes were outwardly hostile, and none of them pressed on him in the way he had come to expect from powerful beings. He hated that particular bullshit, the way seemingly grand entities loved to exert their pressure on lesser ones to frighten them, to remind them of the gap, to make them want to kneel. He felt none of that here. Whatever these beings were, they did not stoop to the cheap trick of it.

But the atmosphere was heavy all the same. Heavy in a different way. The heaviness of a room full of beings who did not need to press on you to make you understand exactly how much power was present.

And then his eyes were drawn to the throne, and his existence buzzed.

Or, more precisely, his Osmontian Source Infinity buzzed. Something within the shroud of vibrant Primordial Source that covered that throne reached out and resonated with the fused authority at the core of him, set it cycling, set it humming, and Noah eyes shone.

Why would his Osmontian Source Infinity react to whatever sat on that throne?

"We pay our respects to THE Domicile of THE Queen Regnant," they said, "and we greet her Majesty, THE First Sword."

HUUM!

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