Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 4320

Chapter 4320: An Exchange! I

Inside the small, world-sized isolated bubble that Schrodinger and Leonore Rureaux were invited in.

They walked upon a radiant stellar blue pathway, a bridge of solidified light that cut through an expanse of breathtaking, cosmic beauty. All around them was the allure of a starlit environment, as if this entire isolated domain was a captured piece of the night sky, a private galaxy where the only destination was a single, glowing point of life at its center: a round garden, pulsing with a gentle, welcoming light.

Leonore Rureaux, her form still frail but her crimson eyes now burning with a cold, clear, and rejuvenated light, gazed at the impossible architecture with a flicker of analytical interest. "Before I even meet him," she said, her voice a low, melodic thing that held the sharp edge of a razor, "I am going to bet ten thousand Everythings of Paradox that he is an Early Creature. Would you take that bet, O Herald?"

Schrodinger smiled, a genuine, almost wistful expression. He shook his head, his bearing a stark, absurd contrast to the celestial grandeur around them. "I will agree with you that he is an Early Creature," he said, his voice a quiet, philosophical murmur. "Though none of that would make sense, but existence is filled with impossibilities. Maybe he is simply another impossibility."

With such a conversation taking place, they arrived at the edge of the garden. In the next moment, a figure appeared before them, a silent, graceful materialization at the garden’s entrance. It was Malphas. His obsidian butler’s attire seemed to drink the starlight, but woven within its fabric were invisible lines of brilliant blue that pulsed with a quiet, contained power. His eyes, no longer just crimson, now danced with a dangerous, captivating glow of crimson-blue, and the authority he emanated was enough to stifle the very air.

His cold gaze swept over them, a silent, dismissive assessment, before it came to rest on Schrodinger. "Please," he said, his voice a smooth, cultured baritone that was both a polite invitation and an absolute command, "this way."

The garden was a masterpiece of impossible, beautiful life. Radiant sacred herbs, their leaves shimmering with the light of a thousand different authorities, grew in perfect, geometric patterns. Trees, their bark the color of polished moonlight, bore fruits that glowed with a gentle, internal fire. And at the very center, arranged in a perfect circle, were elevated cushions of a shimmering blue-gold material. They surrounded a low table, upon which sat pristine, white-gold plates and cups.

Malphas appeared at the table, and with a graceful wave of his hand, he revealed a somewhat crude-looking bucket. It was forged from the heated sands of the Early Veiled Shore, now cooled into a swirling, opalescent glass. But from this humble vessel, he began to pour... the Sacred Mead of Existence.

Schrodinger and Leonore’s eyes widened. They could feel it, the terrifying complexity and potency of the white-gold milky liquid as it filled the cups, its very presence a wave of pure, unadulterated life force that made their own ancient existences hum with a forgotten, primal hunger. As for the plates, Malphas waved his hands again, and they were filled with radiant, boiling sacred waters, in which floated perfect, bite-sized pieces of celestial marine life.

After he finished, he rose like a gloriously efficient butler. "The Master will be here soon," he said. "Please, help yourselves."

With those words, he stepped to the side, his posture one of cold, calm, and absolute stillness. Schrodinger couldn’t help but stare, his curiosity a palpable, analytical force. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice a low, intrigued murmur. "You should not be a mere Living Existence or Fold Dweller. And you don’t seem like an Early Creature, as I have not seen an Early Creature serve anyone. And yet, I cannot shake the immensity that you are giving off..."

Malphas turned his head, his crimson-blue eyes fixing on Schrodinger with a cold, dismissive light. "I am merely a servant of The Master. Even my name is inconsequential. Again, enjoy the refreshments. The Master will be here soon."

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