The Philosopher's Stone pulsed in my hand like a second heart, each throb expanding my mind, deepening it, pushing the walls of thought further than I'd ever dreamed. My mental sea surged outward, not a pool anymore, but an ocean.
And then—the chains barring the staircase shattered.
The third floor opened.
I rose, each step echoing like a drumbeat of fate. As the doors parted, the chamber inside unfolded like a universe. Not shelves this time, but whole constellations. Books and scrolls drifted in spirals, orbiting glowing diagrams that floated midair: stars bending, rivers of time splitting, vast geometric patterns woven from light and will.
The Firefly King's voice was softer now, reverent. "Here lies the wisdom of space and time. The breath of heaven and earth that shapes all cultivation, all travel, all inheritance."
I reached toward a hovering scroll. The instant my fingers brushed it, the cosmos bled into me. I saw it:
Spatial arrays of Vestigium force folded into origami.
These folded Orgami of Intent could condense airfields, make flames grow hotter, make blades grow sharper, and minds grow calmer. Inversely they could weaken enemies, as though crushed by unseen forces.
There was a vast field of array knowledge and applications. Poison Arrays, Polar Arrays, even Decaying Arrays of death. All one needed to do was learn the corresponding Origami type to fold with one's Vestigium Force and King level Intent.
Temporal notations for time Arrays were available, faint but there, whispers on slowing time inside a boundary, or hastening recovery within a circle of ''Orgami Force.''
Secrets of rings and wrists—my own artifacts burning in resonance as I realized they weren't mere "containers." They were spatial arrays given shape. On my Ring was something I didn't have the sight yet to recognize, but a small origami creature sat atop the Spatial ring. It was a Hippo! It was folded from crackling purple Animus. On my Spatial wrist was a orgami donkey.
The origami type somehow indicated it's power level, and purpose. This was my concluding thoughts on the matter.
The Starlit Chain in my spiritual pond quivered, and even the Lantern Spear hummed faintly, acknowledging the level of inheritance I was stepping into.
The Heavenly Origami scroll unrolled across my mindscape, each crease of parchment shimmering with impossible geometries. Countless paper beasts and objects of seemingly endless variety hovered in the vast constellation of knowledge—cranes of fire, tigers of stone, serpents of poison. There were just as many unconventional origami arrays as well.
I began to realize that for a practitioner of this heavenly art, folding a sheet of Vestigium force into anything they desired was no task at all. The Scroll contained tens of thousands of folding technique, tips and tricks.
My gaze was drawn, magnetized, to a singular shape drifting like an omen.
A black flag, folded of intent so dark it drank in starlight. Its edges flapped silently though there was no wind, and each ripple pulled the light out of the spiritual pond around me.
"This…" I murmured, my breath echoing inside my own soul. "An Array that dampens strength and defense."
I extended my Vestigium force. At once, the world around me fractured into thousands of fold-lines, as though reality itself had become a sheet waiting to be shaped. My King level Intent shimmered, blue and orange threads twisting together, until I seized them both and folded.
The first crease was agony—my soul resisted, my body shook, my swarm copies flickering at the edges of cohesion. Still, I pressed. The Black Flag bent under my will, paper creasing against the resistance of the entire Beast Vein.
One fold. Two folds. Three folds. Ten folds. Fourteen folds. Twenty-five folds.
On the twenty fifth fold, the black flag array unfurled above me—small at first, then swelling to the size of a battle standard. Its surface gleamed with my frostfire essence, and a wave of pressure rippled outward. The Starlit Chain quivered. The Lantern Spear hummed. Even Felicity's silver essence stirred in recognition.
The world dimmed.
Every pulse of energy within the Array's boundary became muffled—enemy killing intent, beastly roars, even the raw hum of Animus weakened, dragged down as if weighted by invisible chains. It was not suppression through violence, but dampening, an unseen hand pressing down, reminding all within that this was my territory.
I stood beneath the rippling Black Flag, frostfire burning quietly along my veins, and felt the truth of it.
This was not a weapon. It was not even a shield.
This was my first step into true sovereignty.
The moment the Black Flag Origami settled into reality, the first tendrils of energy coalesced above the third floor's library. A pulse of Animus light—deep, resonant, sovereign—shattered the veil of the ceiling and opened a path.
A staircase of shimmering firefly light unfurled upward, spiraling into the unknown. My swarm paused, suspended in the luminous air, each fragment of myself vibrating with anticipation. The Firefly King's voice rang out through the spiritual plane, rich and resonant:
"My pupil… you have bent the battlefield itself. You have mastered not only combat, but dominion. The fourth floor awaits."
I ascended, the steps folding into themselves as my Frostfire flames licked along my feathers, the Solar Pyre veins glowing a deep molten orange in the dim spiritual light.
The Fourth Floor was unlike the others. Gone were the tomes, the altars, the origami scrolls. Only one thing remained, suspended in a nexus of shimmering Animus—a single, radiant schematic of the Seraphic Gates. Golden glyphs shimmered across the floor, ceiling, and walls, casting reflections that danced like living constellations.
"The knowledge here," the Firefly King intoned, "is not a technique for the weak-willed. This floor will teach you how to traverse the Seraphic Gates and enter the True Immortal Core Realm, you must ascend beyond mere Sovereign mastery. Your Frostfire Embercoil must become a Legendary Dragon and carry your constellation in the heavens. Only then will the gates recognize your right."
I stepped closer, watching the intricate lines of the Seraphic Gate design fold, rotate, and shift in impossible patterns, like a living geometry of destiny.
"The Embercoil's evolution," he continued, "is your key. When your spirit beast reaches Legendary Dragon form, it will rise, tearing through the atmosphere, and burn its essence into the heavens. There it will form your constellation—a beacon to the world, a sign that a True Immortal has ascended. Nothing else resides here. All other knowledge pales before this."
I inhaled slowly, feeling the combined Animus of the Frostfire Embercoil thrumming within me. Every scale, every coil, every ember of frostfire energy pulsed with potential, whispering the promise of transcendence.
It was a solitary, merciless path—but one I had chosen. One I would carve with my own hands, claws, and flame.
The Firefly King's voice softened, almost a whisper now:
"Your work is not done, Ash. The heavens themselves await the birth of your constellation."
I knelt in the center of the nexus, letting the spiritual light wash over me. The Embercoil coiled around me, warmth and frost intertwining, its gaze steady, patient. Together, we would rise—beyond battle, beyond the Beast Vein, beyond the mortal plane itself.
And when the Frostfire Dragon erupted into the sky, the world would know the rise of a True Immortal.