The Serpent Abyss Forest had entered a state of absolute convergence after Jacob’s arrival.
From every direction, from every poisonous ravine, from every hollowed burrow, from every forgotten ruin buried beneath coils of ancient trees, Autarch’s puppets moved in unity and without excessive movent.
They moved like ants answering a single, unquestionable will as Lamia warriors slithered in flawless formation, Naga battalions marched with synchronized steps, and vipers, serpents, and monstrous hybrids carried crates, bones, ores, relics, venom cores, and treasures ripped from the forest’s deepest mories.
Above them, invisible ethereal strings shimred faintly, taut yet elegant, binding every will into one purpose, and at the center of the forest, the portal to Infinite Space stood open.
It was vast, silent, and terrifyingly calm, like an aperture of pure abstraction, where direction, distance, and hierarchy no longer held aning. One by one, thousands upon thousands of puppets crossed its threshold, vanishing without a sound, like grains of sand slipping into an endless sea.
With those puppets, countless resources followed along with the forest’s ancient bones, which were stripped and sent through; anything that held even the least value was carried into the space without leaving behind a sliver of it.
Furthermore, if anyone was foolish enough to sneak into the portal of the infinite space, then their fate was already sealed, for everything was under Jacob’s perception, even if he wasn’t paying attention.
On the other hand, within the Infinite Space, Autarch stood at the heart of it all, her erald eyes reflecting the procession with chanical serenity.
The Centipede Totem behind the Lamia Queen pulsed steadily as its centipede form coiled protectively, every luminous leg vibrating in harmony.
This was not a retreat of the puppets but was a harvest completed, and yet just as those final legions of Autarch puppets approached the portal, the space above the Marionettist Kingdom rippled!
At first, it looked like a mirage, like heat haze above scorched ground, but then the ripple spread wider, waves overlapping chaotically, as if the fabric of reality had briefly forgotten how to remain solid.
At that mont, even if there was a Quasi-Myth preset and they were monitoring everything with their soul sense, before they could react, the disturbance cald seamlessly as if nothing had happened at all.
The sky returned to normal, and the forest continued its march with no alarm raised, no detection array triggered, nor Autarch’s perception catching hold of anything unusual.
Probably even if a true Mythical had been present, they would have seen nothing because what stood there was not truly inside space.
Behind the final, thinnest veil of reality, between perception and absence, stood a small figure as He hovered silently, barefoot, his porcelain skin untouched by shadow or light.
His pure-white eyes stared unblinking at the scene below, reflecting the forest, the portal, and the infinite procession of puppets vanishing into sothing that did not belong to the Middle Plains.
In his small hand, he held a white hexagon. It was ethereal, weightless, and impossibly still, with no colors, light, or even darkness existing within it, only white.
Yet the longer one stared, the more unsettling it beca, as inside the hexagon, sothing moved, but not energy, law, or ti.
It was like fine sand in a boundless desert, rippling gently under unseen winds, waves passing through perfect stillness without disturbing it.
This small, child-like figure was none other than Higher God Whiteness, who had paid a terrible price to co back after he was ejected from the Middle Plain by Constellation Arbiters!
Nonetheless, with the absolute command of his ’master,’ he didn’t hesitate to return, but after returning, sothing out of the ordinary happened.
In actuality, Whiteness thought he had to take the risk and traveled all the way back to the lesser plains, just like he was originally intended to do.
But all of a sudden, the ’compass’ granted to him by his master suddenly turned active the mont he entered the boundary of the middle plains, which shocked him greatly.
Now that he saw those constant ripples within that compass, Whiteness’s breath grew uneven as his fingers tightened imperceptibly around the hexagon compass.
"This..." He whispered, his voice trembling despite himself as his pure-white eyes widened, reverence and disbelief colliding violently within them.
’According to the ’Supre One,’ this compass shouldn’t be active unless I’m within the sa space and ti as the ’heretic.’ But the ’Supre One’ also told that the heretic’s position is in the Lesser Plains, and I’ve confird it myself before.
’However, now not only has the compass been activated, but it has also led to this place without the previous obstruction. Nonetheless, just a few monts before it again went dormant and only showed vague ripples, just as the ’Supre One’ had warned about....’
The more Whiteness thought about it, the sharper his expression grew with certainty. ’But since this compass is still showing a vague reaction, this ans that the heretic had co into the Legendary Plains, and for so ti, it had beco careless to reveal itself, probably because it was evolving and happened to alert the ’Supre One’...’
A hint of a cold smile touched Whiteness’s lips. ’That heretic probably wouldn’t have imagined that I would be its tale, not to ntion after offending the ’Supre One,’ the only fate that awaits you is eternal misery!
’Now, even if you use so trick to completely isolate or even use severance to detach yourself from the universe, it’s aningless!’
Now that Whiteness knew that he no longer needed to take the risk of traveling towards the Lesser Plains, he was filled with power and confidence, as if that terrible price he had paid were all worth it as long as he could detain the heretic.
At that mont, his gaze snapped toward the portal to Infinite Space, and his eyes narrowed with realization and a touch of unease.
"What is that portal?" He murmured as faint agitation crept into his tone, "Even my vision, as suppressed as it might be, can’t see through it all? Is that the trick the heretic used to elude the ’Supre One’!?"
The hexagon pulsed faintly as if responding to his turmoil, and Whiteness clenched his jaw.
At that mont, he truly believed that the heretic was no longer just a heretic, but he was a variable that should not exist!
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