Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 4235

Chapter 4235: Rebuke! I

A fortress of blue and gold light, covering a space that was easily half the size of the Fold they had been searching for. It was a thing of impossible beauty and terrifying power, a declaration of dominion in a realm that should have had none.

They were alarmed. They were shocked. They were, above all, utterly bewildered. The lead Honored Living Law, his form trembling with the shock of the discovery, instantly sent a message, a desperate, frantic cry for guidance, to those above him, to the very heart of the Transcendent Law Folds!

—

In a corner of the Heart of Law, there was a place of profound, cathedral-like silence.

It was a realm carved from the very concept of absolute law, a sanctuary where the chaotic whims of existence were not permitted entry.

Vast pillars of pristine white marble, each one veined with intricate lines of shimmering gold, rose to support a ceiling that was not a ceiling at all, but a luminous, featureless expanse of pure, structured light.

Unlike the stark, functional design of the Juridical Sanctum, this was no prison; it was a temple, a testament to the beauty and majesty of Law itself!

In a central chamber so vast it could have contained a small Folds, a constellation of massive, marbled white thrones was arranged in a grand, circular conclave.

Some were filled with the silent, imposing figures of the Dukes of Law, their forms radiating an authority that was as constant and as unyielding as gravity.

Others sat empty, silent monuments to beings who were elsewhere, engaged in the endless work of maintaining the structural integrity of reality.

At the center of this gathering, floating in the still, heavy air, was Royal Law Tristesse.

Her dark hair was a stark, beautiful contrast to the brilliant white of her robes, and her expression was one of cool, professional confidence.

She had just concluded her report on the mission to the Desiccated Sleeping Shore, her voice echoing with a final, resonant note in the profound quiet.

For a long moment, there was only silence as the assembled Dukes contemplated her words.

Then, a voice, deep and resonant as a striking gavel, emerged from one of the thrones.

It was Duke Justinius, a being whose form was so perfectly symmetrical it was almost painful to look at.

"You have done well to confirm the path, Tristesse," he began, his tone a perfect balance of praise and scrutiny. "But you say you let the holders of the Enneagram, the very keys to this endeavor, go on alone? Unaccounted for?"

The question was a sharp, pointed blade in the calm of the chamber. Tristesse’s smile, however, did not waver. It was a bright, confident expression, the look of a being who had already calculated every possible variable.

"Alexander Asmodeus is unaccounted for, it is true," she conceded, her voice a smooth, melodic current. "He is unique, an anomaly whose path is his own. But Seraphina... Seraphina is ours."

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