After two days of nonstop teleporting from world to world—space folding around him in rose-pink ripples, galaxies blurring into streaks of light—Ash finally arrived at the dead world, Blek.
It floated in the quiet emptiness like a lost marble—huge but completely lifeless, a dull gray ball of fractured stone and dust beneath a pitch-black sky. No seas rippled across its surface, no breezes drifted over its vast stretches of dry rock. Craters scarred the land like old injuries, their depths swallowing what little light dared to touch them.
The air was thin and stale, laced with the faint metallic taste of cosmic dust and decay. No life stirred here—no plants fighting to survive, no animals roaming, not even the faintest trace of microbes in the soil. It was a blank canvas, humming softly with potential beneath the heavy silence, waiting for someone to shape it anew.
"I guess they weren't kidding about calling it a blank canvas," Ash muttered, drifting in the empty skies with wings half-spread to catch winds that didn't exist.
[Of course, the Stellar Adaptor will always find exactly what you're looking for… or something close,] Elysia's voice teased in his mind.
[Now, all you need to do is make contact with the world core and link it to your Core.]
"You know, I don't exactly have a core," Ash replied, raising a brow and crossing his arms mid-hover.
[Hehe, obviously, Master. You'll need to connect the world to your inner universe,] Elysia went on, amusement coloring her tone.
[It will also grant this world some unique traits.]
Ash gave a sharp nod, eyes narrowing before he vanished in a shimmer of warped space, diving deep underground—slipping past layers of fractured rock and echoing hollows that rang with the planet's emptiness.
When he emerged, he stood before the core.
Vast—larger than any mountain—it hovered in a gaping void at the planet's center, a dull gray sphere laced with hairline cracks, seeping an aura of death like slow poison. The air was heavier here, colder, with death essence curling unseen through the dark.
With his Law of Death perfected, Ash could feel its nature—ancient, inescapable—but he couldn't break it.
Not yet.
Closing his eyes, he let a single thread unfurl from his chest—rose-pink, fine as silk yet unyielding, spun from the fabric of his inner cosmos.
It touched the cracked core of Blek gently, like a root seeking soil.
The link was made.
Energy began to flow—Primavus essence, the combined traits of Human adaptability, Celestial Fox lunar mystique, Nosferatu's vampiric dominance, and the boundless hunger of Original Desire. No single force ruled; the world would shift, adapt, and grow—forever unbound, always changing with its people.
Three months passed swiftly...
The surface slowly transformed, day by day, into a vast supercontinent brimming with possibility.
Gray dust stirred first—cracks filled with rose-pink veins that spread like living pathways, stone softening into sprawling plains of adaptable crystal shifting hues with light and intent.
Then came the oceans—shallow at first, then deepening into shimmering mana seas that mirrored desires, waters calm yet eager, able to shift into lunar tides, fox-fire storms, or human-forged rivers on command.
Mountains rose in silent grandeur—peaks of paradox stone changing form with a glance, valleys of eternal ash fertile for blood-seed growth, forests of starlight crystal trees whose leaves whispered illusions and lunar songs.
The skies cleared into a perpetual rose-gold dawn—welcoming and endless—where stars danced as fox patterns one moment, human constellations the next, or Nosferatu voids the third.
The supercontinent became a single landmass—endless plains for adaptation trials, lunar forests steeped in mystery, desire-veined canyons for craving growth, and adaptable oceans embracing its edges.
Still barren—life yet to come—but already a masterpiece: crafted for Primavus, blending human adaptability, fox cunning, Nosferatu dominance, and the boundless hunger of desire. A surface home, ever-changing, hidden in plain sight.
Ash opened his eyes.
The core beat in time with his heart, death's aura gone, replaced by quiet, infinite potential.
He drifted upward into the new skies.
The world exhaled.
He gave it a name.
"Primordia Haven."
Ash descended from the skies, wings folding as his feet touched the warm, living crystal plains. The continent welcomed him, rose-pink light flaring across its surface like a newborn's first breath—gentle, alive, full of promise.
[Congratulations, Master. The Originat Clan now claims its first world,] Elysia said, her tone warm with quiet pride.
She went on without pause.
[As you know, faction ranks rise from Unrated, to Stellar, Galactic, Eternal, and Arch Eternal. The path is conquering worlds and expanding influence—fifty worlds for Stellar, five thousand for Galactic, ten thousand for Eternal, along with full galactic conquest and a clan age of at least three World Eras, or 1.5 million years.]
Ash nodded, hands in his pockets as he strolled across the land. The crystal ground shifted softly beneath his steps, humming like a lullaby, rose-pink veins pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
"Right," he said casually. "I'm not in a rush to conquer or play tyrant."
He cracked his neck, a grin spreading.
"By the time 1.5 million years pass, I'll be far stronger than any clan anyway."
At just fifty-seven, he stood at Calamity's peak—ready to step into Stellar Sovereign whenever he wished. His speed was unmatched, still climbing.
[You're not wrong, Master,] Elysia replied gently.
[But a clan isn't just for you—it's for your family. You've said yourself you won't guide them forever. Power's path is unpredictable. You might be gone for long stretches. My advice: build a clan that can withstand any tide, with or without you.]
Ash halted mid-step, clarity dawning.
He knew she was right. His pride had told him his strength alone would shield them. But unseen shadows lingered.
"Thank you, my lovely Nexus~" he said, gazing up at the rose-gold sky with a genuine smile.
"So… what are the most optimal paths right now?"
Elysia's voice brightened, structured yet eager.
[Three paths stand out, Master—each accelerating growth exponentially.]
[First: Gather the balancing races—Luminary Seraphs for radiant light and energy resonance, Eternal Adaptors for supreme adaptability and form-optimization.
Adding them to the Primavus bloodline removes darkness dominance, unlocks Juvenile Stage evolution, and broadens Law resonance across light, life, and infinite forms. Your race becomes truly unbound.]
[Second: Create more Primavus directly.
Use the world core or Desire Manifestation to birth new members—beasts for defense, humanoids for leadership. Numbers strengthen the bloodline network, amplify shared growth, and awaken dormant Progenitor traits faster. A thousand Primavus could push you to Intermediate Baby Stage in centuries.]
[Third: Gain currency. You possess roughly ten million mana stones—insufficient for a clan's sustained growth.
The Resource Fountain generates more the more you invest. My advice: Begin selling artifacts and weapons to auction houses. The Vossmere Consortium Auction is the single largest neutral auction in all of Venia—with ties to other galaxies. Start there. Your forged items will fetch prices that fuel exponential growth.]
Ash kept walking as the crystal plains transformed into soft grass at his command—testing, sensing the world's response.
His smile grew broader.
"All three sound perfect. But let's start with the third option, then go with the first."
[Agreed, Master,] Elysia replied, her voice bright with approval.
[Currency will accelerate everything—resources for the Fountain, bribes for information, purchases for rare materials. Optimal and immediate.]
She carried on without pause.
[The simplest route: craft one-of-a-kind items—Ultimate, Mythic, Divine tiers. Weapons, armor, utility artifacts. Skip overly abstract concepts like systems; stick to tangible, high-demand creations galaxies are eager for.
With the title |Forger of the Unwritten Cycle|, resource costs drop by 90% and time by 99%. Also add three Paragon peak—galaxy-shaking quality items... those are sure to earn fortunes at Vossmere.]
Ash nodded, standing on the vast, adaptable plains of Primordia Haven. The rose-gold dawn light bathed the supercontinent, crystal shifting softly under his feet as if eager to serve.
He began.
No anvil, no hammer—just will.
The world around him responded.
Ambient mana threads gathered like obedient rivers, starlight from the eternal dawn condensing into raw essence. Crystals rose from the ground, ores manifesting from the planet's core—void-forged metals, star-core alloys, paradox shards—all drawn and refined in seconds.
First: Primordia Edge (Paragon Weapon – Sword Variant) A katana twin to his own, forged for others—its blade of adaptable star-metal shifting between sword, spear, and whip at the wielder's whim. It devours enemy Laws on contact, turning them into temporary power surges. The hilt is wrapped in silent paradox runes, making strikes impossible to block.
Second: Veil of Eternal Dawn (Paragon Armor – Robe/Armor Set) Lightweight robes woven from rose-gold dawn threads, able to adapt to any environment—void-proof, flame-proof, illusion-proof. Passive: Reflects one fatal blow per battle as a paradox backlash. Active: Shrouds the wearer in an "unwritten" veil, invisible to Fate and undetectable by scrying below the World Realm.
Third: Nexus Heart Reliquary (Paragon Utility Artifact – Pendant) A rose-pink crystal heart that stores and amplifies Laws, allowing the wielder to "borrow" one Law at full comprehension for a day. In combat, it regenerates mana at galaxy-scale speeds. Unique: Bonds to the bloodline, evolving as its bearer grows.
Hours passed—yet felt like minutes before he had three Paragon peak treasures complete—each radiating power enough to spark wars.
Ash didn't stop at three.
With the title |Forger of the Unwritten Cycle| active, time compressed to a whisper and resources dwindled too almost nothing. He stood at the center of a vast plain on Primordia Haven, wings half-spread, the rose-gold dawn light bathing him as the world itself seemed to lean in, eager to serve.
The air shimmered.
Ultimate-ranked swords rose from the crystal ground—blades of star-forged alloy humming with Law resonance.
Mythic armor sets unfolded like blooming flowers—robes of adaptable mana-weave, gauntlets that shifted to counter any element.
Divine utility relics manifested in swirling vortexes—pendants that stored galaxy-scale mana, rings that amplified bloodlines, talismans that bent probability in subtle, devastating ways.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
A boatload—each unique, each flawless, each carrying echoes of his Primavus essence without revealing its true nature.
Swords that adapted to the wielder's desire mid-battle. Armor that turned enemy Laws into fuel. Relics that whispered silent illusions or devoured incoming mana.
Time continued to pass but by the time he was done, the plain around him became a silent armory—items floating in perfect formation, glowing softly under the eternal dawn.
Ash surveyed his work, satisfaction warm in his chest.
Enough to flood auctions.
Enough to build fortunes.
Enough to arm a rising clan.
He stored them all with a wave—rings filling, cosmos echoing with new power.
Then he vanished as the world of Primordia revealed one of its unique traits, dissolving into the void the instant it sensed vulnerability.