Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3698

Despair was rising like a flood, and this wasn't happening to just some weak entities with lesser complexity who did not have the capability to shift the scale of power… this was happening to beings who had lived for millions of years.

Because the scene they were witnessing was utterly horrendous to behold.

Just now, in this moment, there were quite literally dozens of Converged Architects who were Dead Things.

Even without mentioning or acknowledging the Harmonized Sourcebound Icon Complexity Dead Things.

The Converged Architects alone were equivalent to Resplendent Monads, and on the side of the Living, they had… a single one so far.

A few with extremely Pure or uniquely complex weavings were somewhat close to Resplendent Monads, but they could be counted on a single hand.

"What in fresh hell is this, my friend?"

From above the merging Gateway Domus, the figure of none other than the Origin Singed appeared, of course controlled by the mind of the Great Usurper.

He had just recently delved into the Infinite Ravines, and in this moment, he was already drawn into a singular, unified doorway, where he now stared at a number of terrifying entities.

The only one he recognized was Noah. And so he moved toward him, while the other arriving legends also gathered near the Holder of the True Source of Asche.

Near the only Resplendent Monad here.

Noah gave the Great Usurper a glance and shook his head as if even words could not explain this, continuing to survey the gathering legends. His gaze landed on a woman clad in weavings of Anti-Matter and Dark Matter, her eyes serpentine- was this… the Stellar Weaver?

The question lingered only a moment before another familiar presence stepped forward.

The Omnifather, though ashen, recognized Noah and came forward to ask.

"You… you were in the weavings of the Wheel. Do you know what Bob did within? Are these Dead Things his doing—invited by him after he left for the Nullvein Gravewake Folds?!"

The Omnifather looked injured as he echoed the question.

Noah gave him a glance and calmly replied,

"The chaos Bob caused has been dealt with as these Dead Things...have nothing to do with him."

They had nothing to do with him. But they were here.

They had caused the entire Wheel of Existence to exert its effort, merging every single doorway within the Infinite Ravines. The entire Wheel could now only be accessed through a singular, central focus point.

All defenders were present, and any Living Things that still existed would arrive here too.

The positives and negatives swirled. Even as the descent of a few dozen True Sources continued, the arrival of Dead Things never ceased. After the appearance of three Mawbearers...

BOOM!

Another shattered the folds of collapse and complexity as they appeared.

The 71st Mawbearer.

The 50th Mawbearer.

The 47th Mawbearer.

The 88th Mawbearer!

Noah looked from one to the next, watching them appear in seconds, each leading groups with at least twelve Dead Things, some as many as twenty-seven as his distinction as the Weaver of Existence continued to go crazy!

The more that appeared, the heavier the despair settled into the hearts of the Living who stood opposite them.

And all the while, Veltraxis stood at the forefront, his demonic grin, already stretched from ear to ear, somehow growing wider.

He was looking at Noah and the Holder of the True Source of Asche as if waiting.

Waiting for that face.

That face of despair. _{ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom}

That face of rage and pain.

And yet, even as the expressions of the living legends behind Noah became ashen… Noah remained calm.

His eyes did not so much as flutter.

Veltraxis took that as a challenge.

From the side of the Living...

"Haha… Haha! Just… Haha!"

Veyl'Aethra, the old man, was laughing madly.

His left hand flickered, trembling as it began to phase in and out of existence, as if it were lagging.

His Fractal Collapse… now visible. Everyone around him stepped back slightly.

They had abandoned it.

But not them!

They still stood to defend it as now, a little less than one hundred Defenders of the Wheel remained here.

And yet—what reward did they earn for their loyalty?

Their only recompense was legions of powerful Dead Things appearing one after another in this sealed space.

"What do you think, O Bearer of the White-Gold Flame?"

The voice sliced through the hopelessness, Veltraxis speaking directly.

He looked toward Noah, his dead smile widening, his obsidian hands brimming with decay and death as he raised them, roaring with malicious laughter.

"There are already sixteen Mawbearers here and one hundred forty-three Converged Architects! Meanwhile, you have two flimsy Resplendent Monads to our 143! Tell me, what outcome do you think will bloom from all this?!"

HUUM!

His voice echoed, piercing and heavy. He wanted it.

He wanted that look of hopelessness and despair that had claimed so many faces among the Living.

But most of all, he wanted to see it on Noah.

But he...would never see it.

Because even now, in this woven storm of despair- where even defenders of the Wheel wept and faltered...Noah grasped a Spoke and replied, utterly void of emotion.

"The more of you that come, the more of you there are to kill."

…!

Despair never touched Noah's face.

And he had no intention of letting it.

Because in this very moment...

He continued his preparations!