Amidst the crowd’s blooming flowers and singing and dancing, Bologue deeply felt everyone’s care for him. He exchanged glances with Palr, forced a smile, and accepted everyone’s goodwill.
This feeling was terrible. Bologue couldn’t explain to everyone why he committed suicide. He certainly couldn’t tell them that damned devil was hiding in the afterlife, between nothingness?
No, he couldn’t.
No one said this to Bologue, but he vaguely felt he shouldn’t disclose these secrets, as if speaking them would bring disaster.
Like... the gaze of a mysterious force.
From his conversations with the astronaut, Bologue perceived that even as the embodint of rule power, the all-powerful devil that the astronaut represented was still deliberately avoiding sothing.
So kind of "omniscient and omnipotent" existence?
If Bologue narrated secrets that should be kept, it would draw the attention of that existence, and for this reason, the astronaut dared not reveal his identity.
Who could he be?
Another stronger devil opposing the astronaut? Or... the master of the devils?
Bologue couldn’t figure these things out. He knew very little about the astronaut and the grand sche he was plotting. Bologue felt he needed to find soone to talk to.
Slowly closing his eyes, Bologue leaned against the headboard, expression solemn, as if deeply contemplating sothing.
The others remained crowded around the hospital bed, partly discussing Bologue’s poor ntal state, partly debating how to help alleviate his internal pressure.
In the midst of the noisy chatter, Aimou was the first to notice Bologue’s abnormality. Green light tracks sparkled on his skin, the arcs fluctuating with his breathing.
"Bologue..."
Aimou softly called. She suddenly realized that everyone was bewildered by Bologue’s mad suicide attempt, completely overlooking that he had just completed an ascension.
Deep within Bologue, above the empty soul, a seed had taken root and sprouted. It extended a trunk, and under the impetus of the ascension ceremony, branches sprouted, chaotically growing, supporting the grandeur of the soul.
At first, there were only slight ethereal fluctuations, then more ether gathered, weaving into streams, many streams converging into rivers, flowing straight into the ocean.
Ether surged like tides, condensing visibly around Bologue, and then light arcs danced.
Everyone’s actions halted, collectively observing Bologue’s transformation.
At this mont, Bologue was releasing a significant amount of ether, highly concentrated ether unfurled and rolled, forming tentative solid entities. The condensed radiance flickered continuously, like fireworks.
Bologue observed his hand, witnessing the burning of the fla. He gently waved, the green fla in his hand swiftly spread, and in the blink of an eye, enveloped the surrounding material, covering the entire ward.
Aimou turned to survey the ward, green flas flourished, the places where the flas scorched were filled with green light tracks, extending from Bologue’s alchemy matrix.
Hart displayed so fear upon seeing the flas. His fur, susceptible to flas, quivered briefly. Yet, in his montary panic, he realized these flas weren’t hot; they lacked temperature and seed like re flas without the ability to burn material.
"Ether fire," Belli softly said, extending her hand to touch the flas, "This is an ether phenonon. When the ether concentration reaches a certain threshold, the intangible ether becos visible. Often it produces dazzling light, rging together to form effects similar to flas."
These weren’t genuine flas but manifestations of ether, like the often-seen ether arcs, and the Origin School, employing ethereal blades to fight.
"Continue," Belli gestured.
Without Belli’s prompting, Bologue was ready to proceed. He slowly clenched his fist, and in the next mont, the materials covered by flas began to undergo changes.
As if entering the cultivation room, the smooth walls started to shift rapidly. Neat cracks surfaced, transforming into countless cubes, interlocking, reassembling. Between the gaps, steel bars embedded in cent were visible, cross-sections neat, resembling a giant Rubik’s cube.
Under Bologue, the hospital bed began to alter as flas enveloped it. All structures began to fracture and change. They gently lifted Bologue, stone steps appeared, softly supporting his feet.
Bologue strolled leisurely; more stones rose, forming disks beneath him. He needn’t move himself; the disk turned him, facing a side wall.
A gentle wave, and the entire wall began to shatter, like retreating squares, interlocked openings led to the garden.
"No longer restricted by ’touch’ anymore?"
Palr’s expression turned serious. As Bologue’s partner, he was well aware of Bologue’s secret energy nature. The Secret Energy·Summoning Hand was highly practical, but its biggest flaw was requiring material contact to be effective.
Now Bologue broke this limitation, employing the spreading ether to command distant materials.
Unfortunately, Palr’s seriousness didn’t last long. He mused internally, Bologue dismantling the ward, would the people from the Border Sanatorium co soon?
Rubble flew and danced around Bologue’s body, suddenly he turned, gaze fixed on Palr, gently flicking his fingers, stones hurtled toward Palr. Yet before they neared him, they were diverted by another force, crashing into the ground before Palr.
The light in Palr’s eyes faded, simultaneously, the green light in Bologue’s eyes vanished. The hovering rubble lost its supporting power, plumting down.
Under the warm light, Bologue bowed his head and crossed his arms. As if deep in thought, his musings accompanied the branching tree upon his soul, envisioning the end of this road.
The image of Xilin Kagader.
In front of Bologue appeared the black soldier battling on the chessboard, passing through layers of lines, slaughter reaching the baseline.
If he ascended to higher tiers, breached the baseline, completed the "ascension"...
"Does the power I possess also co from your sche?"
Bologue whispered, as his understanding of the world gradually deepened, the broken mysteries pieced together, revealing the truths beneath the sands of ti.
Currently, the path of ascension was the ancient path of polarization, Bologue’s secret energy nature was further amplified. Under more extre "narrow and sharp" tendencies, Bologue could clearly perceive the ability for more precise, intricate manipulation.
The limitation of "hand touch" was broken. Now Bologue could release ether, high-concentration ether created effects similar to flas, and the material touched by the fla would fall under Bologue’s command.
Bologue glanced at the distorted ward, now completely remodeled, dotted with protruding cubes like a piece of avant-garde design artwork.
Raising his arm, his palm slowly opened. Bologue again released his secret energy, ether spread from the alchemy matrix, like diffuse smoke, though expanding much faster than smoke.
Blue flas ignited on Bologue’s arm, rapidly climbing onto the room, sweeping the twisted hospital bed; they began decomposing, reconstructing. Bologue extracted the tal, discarding impurities.
Within the burning flas, deford tal slowly rose, breaking free from gravity’s bonds, controlled entirely by ether.
Bologue gestured to it, swiftly beckoning it into his hand, clenching the tal tightly within the burning flas. In the fla, it seed countless invisible heavy hamrs fell, pounding the tal, shaping it into a slender, narrow sharp sword.
Amidst the blazing light, Bologue felt akin to a blacksmith, forging steel with ether.
"Fla of the Cauldron."
Bologue nad this secret energy with transford quality.
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