Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse
Chapter 3893: Sin of Association! II

Chapter 3893: Sin of Association! II

At the words of the Foldless One, Altheon, Master Neinoro rose tall as if vindicated by the very air, brushing imaginary dust from his white robes as the glow of the Living Origin Authority curled protectively around him. His tone rang with clean-cut indignation, each syllable sharpened like a knife.

"It makes sense now!" he declared. "One Master of Existence distastefully devouring others, and another murdering him in turn. It all stinks of contradiction... of chaos... of Paradox!"

HUUM!

Paradox!

It was always paradox that was problematic. Since the Earliest Folds!

He turned toward Noah as if pronouncing a sentence. "The bane of all existence."

The words slithered like venom through the gathering.

He swept his arms outward, not toward Noah, but to all the Masters and Primarchs floating on frost-covered branches and Yggdrasil roots. His voice rose, carried on falsified concern and hollow leadership.

"Fellow Masters of Existence," he said with performative solemnity, "surely the resources here would be best reserved for those of stable folds. Not for those whose very nature undermines the balance of Existence. The strength of those here, combined, would elevate all."

His eyes glanced toward Kalysta, Master Etheopa... and finally, Noah.

He was standing taller now. Emboldened.

Because he wasn’t afraid.

He wasn’t alone.

This wasn’t the first time Master Neinoro had felt the favor of Foldless Ones.

No, his steps here had already been mapped by whispered promises of a Living Law long before he set foot in this Labyrinth. Promises of transformation. Of freedom from the identity of a Fold Dweller.

Of becoming... a Living Existence should he succesfully clear the Living Origin Labyrinth.

That was the true source of his confidence. Not his strength. Not his insight. But the path he believed he had been given.

He had been told that if he could clear the Living Origin Labyrinth, he would be one of the chosen to pass into the Transcendent Folds beyond. Into the chaotic, death-strewn realm near the Loom itself- where Inevitabilities reigned and where, if one survived, even a Fold Dweller could ascend to something greater.

That was his wager.

That was the reason he could taunt a being like Noah and still smile.

Because he had backing.

And Noah, in his mind, did not.

So when other Masters began to drift subtly toward the treasure chests, emboldened by Neinoro’s claims, Noah’s gaze grew colder!

"You think," he said softly, "just because someone big told you they’ll protect you... that you can do whatever stupid shit you want?"

He looked at the man with a calm, measured stare, as if studying the Existence beneath the skin.

"Okay."

Raw Power versus True Power!

Always, there could be discrepancy when one did not accurate gauge their True Power.

And discrepancies often led to disappointment!

He turned toward Sigrid.

She didn’t need any words. Her golden eyes lifted to the crimson-gold haze above, toward the sphere that floated like an unseen eye. The gaze of Altheon.

Her voice didn’t waver. It carried like a tide of Order.

"All treasures made available by my actions are to go straight to him. No one else from any Folds."

The word him rang heavier than gold. The wind itself seemed to falter, waiting.

Master Neinoro’s brow twitched. He straightened his robe, but his hands curled tightly behind his back as he nearly harrumphed.

"..."

Her words felt like command. No, they were command. And within seconds, as if Time itself had to answer her decree, the voice of Altheon returned almost as if it were disliking the words about to be uttered!

|All resources in this Final Labyrinth Domain are for... him.|

BOOM!

The pronoun landed like a meteor.

Not Paradox. Not Fold Dweller.

Him.

And they all knew who that meant.

Even those who didn’t dare say it.

The gathered Masters and Primarchs turned slowly towards Noah, others towards Sigrid. Some with awe. Some with dawning horror. Others with envy.

Who was she... that she could shift the will of a Foldless One?

And who was he... that she called down such favor for him alone?

Noah didn’t blink.

He simply raised his hand, and from his fingertips, golden strings of authority unfurled like silk, weaving through the air like hungry roots. They found every treasure chest scattered across the vast branches and frozen wind, threading around them in elegant lines of ownership.

And one by one... they disappeared.

The chests folded out of space, drawn toward the one who had been named.

The one who stood beside Order.

Noah’s gaze turned again toward Master Neinoro, whose smile had begun to fracture. His face still wore a look of civility, but there was a stutter in his aura. A twitch of calculation trying to rewrite itself.

"The command," Noah said, "was for all resources to come to me, you sad excuse of an existence."

His voice struck like thunder. "Give back what you took."

Master Neinoro lifted his head slowly, casting his gaze to the air above as if still expecting Altheon’s voice to intervene again. But there was nothing.

"..."

Only silence.

Only the cold.

And Sigrid, standing beside Noah, radiant with calm certainty.

Master Neinoro’s mouth twitched.

Then, slowly, reluctantly, he waved his hand.

An orb of golden light floated forward. It hovered toward Noah’s palm like a sheep returning to the shepherd.

The moment it touched his hand, light bloomed as it also disappeared!

And the moment it did, there was a subtle change.

Altheon’s voice once again echoed across the realm, cold as the deepest void.

|All trials and resources in the Final Domain of the Living Origin Labyrinth have been claimed. Those who have made it and will make it into this region will now gain passage into the Transcendent Origin Battlefront Folds.|

HUUM!

Transcendent Origin Battlefront Folds!

A stillness followed the words.

Because those who knew what that meant... truly knew what it meant.

The Transcendent Battlefronts were a prize...and a place of horror.

They were a warzone.

A contested edge of Existence where Foldless Ones had pushed forward toward the Loom itself, where Inevitabilities were real, and not imitations.

Where the chance to ascend existed... only through slaughter.

The frost beneath their feet cracked.

The Yggdrasil branches groaned in the distant skies.

And in the silence, Noah stood at the center of it all.

Unyielding. Quintessential, and with eyes unfathomably bright as while all of this occured...the slow construction of a wonder of a Tower inside his Existence neared completion!