Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 4286

Chapter 4286: Civilization! V

He wasn’t saying these words for the sake of this grand citadel, for the conflict that was about to unfold between Gilgamesh’s Sovereignty and the Early Laboratories.

He was saying them for himself. He had not forgotten why he was here. He was still a man running a desperate race against a clock he could not see. These beings... Vulcan, Gilgamesh, all of them... they were the ones who had likely achieved their dream!

They had built their perfect, isolated civilization, their own version of THE Loom, and they had been saved.

While he, his family, and the countless, nameless sextillions of beings in his own Era were left to face the final, absolute dark of the Collapse and the Fallout.

He had time here, yes.

Days in an age of impossible growth. But in his own time, the sand was running out.

He had to build his own garden. He had to forge his own Civilization. He had to do... whatever it took!

"Whatever it takes," he said, the words now a quiet, unshakeable vow.

He rose fully, his form radiating a calm, absolute resolve. He looked towards the Forgemaster. "Before we get to whatever conflict is about to bloom, I will take the materials here as promised."

...!

Vulcan’s smile was a booming, jovial thing. "Go ahead," he rumbled.

"After all, an existence that can keep up with me and continuously utilize their Everythings to forge Early Omnichalcum Metal, even though they are so much weaker... is someone who is worthy of being part of our Way of Existence and our Civilization. Of even a meeting with Lord Gilgamesh once things settle, as he loves to meet those unique among us the most."

He paused, a new, more appreciative light in his ancient eyes.

"And you said... ’Whatever it takes,’ huh? Haha, you are right about that, Osmont. All of us... will do whatever it takes for our Way. Our Civilization. Come, let us see who is threatening our Way of Existence right now."

With those boisterous words, Vulcan began to walk out of the forge, his massive, bronze form a walking mountain of contained power.

The moment he began to leave, Noah acted.

Glorious, azure tendrils of his Infinite Mana, a thousand delicate, surgical limbs of pure, liquid energy, erupted from his being. They did not surge with chaotic power, but moved with a quiet, terrifying precision. They wrapped around the mountains of raw materials that Vulcan had set aside for him...the pristine, stellar white Early Omnichalcum and the dark, volatile Early Tartarite Metal!

The metals, under the caress of his Mana, lost their solid form, becoming two great, swirling rivers of liquid light, one of white-gold brilliance, the other of obsidian-gold chaos.

They flowed towards the opening in his chest, a portal to his Early Atlas of the Folds, and disappeared in two silent, continuous streams.

He took and he took, his hunger for resources as boundless as his Mana. But as the mountains of primordial metal dwindled to mere hills, the figure of Vulcan, who had been walking away, paused.

He turned his head slightly, his starlit eyes flashing with a light that was both a warning and a compliment. It was a silent, almost imperceptible glance that said, in no uncertain terms... That’s enough.

Noah stopped. The rivers of light ceased. He had taken what he could, a king’s ransom in the most precious materials in existence. He began to walk over as if nothing had happened.

|Omnichalcum and Tartarite Metal Acquired.|

|Analysis: You have successfully obtained a quantity of primordial metals nearly five times greater than the amount from Commander Elara’s personal laboratory.|

|Stored Quantity: Sufficient to forge approximately 50-60 growth-type Living Existential Armors, or a significantly larger number of non-growth models.|

...!

A glorious acquisition!

With it completed...

Noah stepped out of the forge into the brilliant, chaotic light of Aethelgard. The atmosphere was not one of panic or fear. It was... glorious.

The many thousands of Early Creatures were not scrambling to arm themselves; they were gathering. They moved with a calm, almost leisurely purpose, their forms radiating a power that was as constant and as unyielding as the Wheels themselves.

They gathered around Vulcan and others like him, their expressions not of soldiers preparing for war, but of a family preparing to defend their home.

And as Noah looked closer, he saw it and recognized it now.

On the chests, the hands, the sides of the most powerful among them, the ones whose auras blazed with the light of thousands of Quadrillions, were shimmering, conceptual grimoires... Living Astral Codexes.

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