Gurgle gurgle~
A fluid so pure it seed divine echoed throughout the endless void. The surging tide of "mass," "record," and "existence" poured forth like tidal waves, rushing into Selene’s ears with a sound that was crystal clear.
For an ordinary magus—be they one of the Twelve Lords, one of the Five True Magicians, even the Magecraft King Solomon, or the vast majority of gods—if they attempted what Selene had done, touching the Root in this way, they would not last even an instant before being assimilated.
At best, they would vanish without a trace. But more likely, 99.9% of them would be completely erased from existence by the Root itself.
Because they were born of the Swirl of the Root. Their very "record of all" resides there—it is their mother, their father.
Sure, the realms of man are full of legends where the weak overco the strong, where destiny is defied, where mortals slay gods. Selene knew well the myths: fathers slain by sons, kings betrayed by subjects, mortals killing deities...
These tales weren’t rare in the Type-Moon world: Marduk slaying the mother goddess Tiamat, Zeus overthrowing Cronus...
But in all the vast multiverse born from the Root, no one had ever dared defy the Root itself.
There was no precedent of any lifeform actively making contact with the Root. Or perhaps those who tried had been erased so thoroughly that no trace remained.
The Root only ever bestowed its blessing upon chosen guides of fate (like Solomon), or favored—perhaps cursed—individuals (like Mana Ryougi or Ayaka Sajyou).
Anyone who tried to reach out first... usually t a terrible end.
Gulp~
The infinite Swirl of the Root flowed into Selene’s body like a chaotic flood. Visibly, the flow of "mass" accelerated geotrically. In re blinks, enough quantity to crush entire high-dinsional universes vanished without a trace.
In that mont, Selene felt a satisfaction unlike anything she had ever known.
As if all of existence were within her grasp!
But she did not indulge in it—she had business to attend to. The Type-Moon composite multiverse was now her prize. She couldn’t just take and take, lest it collapse.
It was like extracting oil from deep underground. To prevent surface subsidence, drill platforms inject water to replace the extracted oil.
Likewise, the Swirl of the Root was the foundation of the multiverse’s structure. If Selene only consud and didn’t refill, the destruction of countless parallel worlds would follow.
Buzz—!
She opened her eyes. Selene’s gaze shone like a galaxy, the glow between her brows blinding.
Lines and particles danced in her vision. The true face of the world was laid bare before her, fully parsed.
As she sank slowly downward, ti lost all aning. Who knew how deep she had gone? It was as though light and shadow from past and future flowed before her eyes. Human history, alien civilizations—like layers of a cake, stacked one over another.
Galaxies, exoplanets, the Big Bang, the forging of worlds—each scene passed before her eyes.
Thick spiral arms. Twisting tributaries. Stars shimring like diamonds in the void—endless high-dinsional worlds and parallel universes, arrayed like constellations.
The sea of stars reflected a majestic, awe-inspiring panorama.
But—there was a flaw.
Amid the celestial brilliance, the absence of the primordial universe—its void—remained.
From the chaotic vortex rose the Root’s thickest main flow, with its twisted, sprawling branches. Embedded among them were radiant stars, shining with the grandeur of what once was the primordial cosmos.
Even a single glance upward left one breathless at its splendor.
Alas, it had beco a battlefield for a clash of the highest. The once-majestic flow was now a withered, broken stream—its splendor faded. Worse still, large portions of the Root’s currents had been tainted. Among the countless unnad yet vital, life-giving streams, it now appeared jarringly out of place, evoking a deep sense of pity.
"Still... the damage is within acceptable limits."
So long as the Swirl of the Root remained operational, Selene was content. In a conquest, after all, so loss is inevitable.
But Selene had played it smart. She struck from within—"blooming from the center." By first tripping up the Root itself, corrupting its authority while simultaneously attacking its core, she threw it into disarray. Had she tried to breach it from the outside, even without considering the difficulty, she surely wouldn’t have had so many intact worlds left to claim.
Suspended within the boundless Root fluid, Selene looked to the four corners. Endless waves of "mass" churned like tidal surges—capable of devouring and assimilating all. The torrents of the Root tore across spaceti, but none could touch her.
"Curze... Azem... they’re making quick progress. Ah, and little Alyssa, too."
Amid the colorless infinity, the ever-spreading purple-red blots of corruption stood out sharply. These were the very reason the Root had been forced into such a passive state. After analyzing the "Blessing" that Solomon had used—born of the sa Root—Selene exploited their link to deliver a sneak attack.
Simultaneously, she decoded the laws of authority and pierced through the Type-Moon world’s barriers. The Honkai hyperspace network gateway had been embedded directly inside the world’s wall. As Imperial forces advanced, so too did the corruption, further weakening the Root’s defenses.
Selene reached out, grasping a stream of dried, grainy "fluid"—like fine sand. She gazed at the shifting images before her.
"Let’s begin anew, starting from the rebirth of the Primordial Universe."
Buzz buzz buzz!
In that instant, her entire body ignited with a violet, blood-tinged glow. She began to corrupt and reform the Root currents around her—devouring them, imprinting them with her Honkai essence, breaking them down and rebuilding them as her own.
The old Swirl of the Root was consud. A new Swirl of Honkai erged. Bit by bit, it spread, covering every trace of the old.
The once-cool hues were overtaken by limitless purple. Space and ti twisted and warped. The currents near Selene exploded, the embedded blotches of corruption dispersing into shards of energy.
One beca ten. Ten beca hundreds...
In the tremors that followed, the great "arms" of the Root were absorbed, repurposed, and then released—transford into new bridges of ti and space. They pierced into anchor points across the multiverse, binding all nearby high-dinsional worlds.
The usurpation of the Root had officially begun!
Well—perhaps "usurpation" was the wrong word. The Root itself lacked consciousness and direction. It had no will to rule.
More accurately, Selene was setting herself above it—inscribing her will upon it, collecting all permissions unto herself. She was turning the Swirl of the Root into the Swirl of Honkai.
From this mont on, ti, space, dinsion, fate, and aether in this entire domain... all belonged to Selene!
At that instant, countless beings in the Type-Moon world—especially intelligent life—felt a vague sensation wash over them.
...
"Disgusting nightmare... you’re not getting away!" Li Sushang ford a sword seal, her voice clear and sharp, but laced with irritation.
As the fading echoes of her sword array swept across the sea of flowers for hundreds of miles, tearing it apart, the long-neglected structure finally gave out.
Its load-bearing columns collapsed, tipping the entire building thirty degrees. What walls remained groaned under the weight, cracking apart.
The ancient tower—who knows how many years it had stood—crumbled into rubble with a thunderous crash.
The suspended spire, built of alabaster crystal and white chalk, crashed to the ground. As the dust settled, a faint silhouette ca into view.
Though the surroundings had been ravaged several tis, not a speck of dust clung to rlin. The court magician, ever adept with a one-handed sword, wore a troubled expression.
"No chance to catch a breath, is there...?
"Was it really necessary to hold a grudge just because I briefly confused you with illusions? We each served our masters. I’m but a humble support. I never directly hard you lovely ladies, now did I?"
Ignoring his lodious tone, Senti stepped forward, bypassing her own grand-disciple. Her clenched fists crackled like firecrackers. Her grin was arrogant and wild, and her breath—carried by fury—seed to scald the air like molten rock.
"Bullshit!!!"
"What the hell did you show , you bastard?!"
"You think you’re clever, huh?! It took ages to track you down, you damned freak!"
Back when she was fighting in the Foreigner (Alter-Ego) class, Senti and the others had been utterly suppressed. She couldn’t fight at full strength, and her fragnt had essentially been beaten to death. When her consciousness returned to her true body, she exploded in rage!
Even soone as composed as Fu Hua had been incensed by the chaos caused by a certain Avalon sword saint’s support tactics.
Yes, Fu Hua understood that in battle, any tactic that disrupts the enemy is a worthy contribution from a support—but that didn’t an she’d forgive him. She had resolved to settle the score.
Pushing up her red-rimd glasses, Fu Hua looked up, sky-blue eyes gleaming with focused anticipation.
As for why they were so furious—imagine a ga. Who draws the most hate? Not the main DPS—it’s always the annoying support, especially the tricky, infuriating kind.
You try to land a kill—they rescue the target.
You try to chase soone—they stun you in place.
They always stand out of reach, in the backlines, out of sight...
And in that fight, rlin—this damnable old fox—pulled every dirty support trick in the book. His illusions either invoked one’s deepest desires or their greatest fears.
In Fu Hua’s case, the illusion showed the death of her squad leader—the one who helped her gain footing in the MOTH during the last era 50,000 years ago.
Even now, long after that battle ended, she rembered it well. This wasn’t about damage—it was about emotional tornt.
Durandal and Kiana, being heroic epic protagonists with protective Noble Armors, had immunity to curses, illusions, and other debuffs, so they avoided it. Hence, they weren’t present here.
"Bring your head here! Let’s see if this immortal can’t smash that smug face into a pig’s snout!"
Senti had no patience for rlin’s smooth-talking. The mont she saw that flawless white fairy step through the cascading flower rain, she hurled her steel whip.
In response to the incoming barrage of golden chains, the tall figure sighed and planted his staff into the ground.
"—Garden of Avalon!"
Buzz buzz buzz—!
Blush-pink illusory flowers sprouted and spread, covering everything within sight.
But then, the ominous lines of corruption in the sky abruptly vanished. The mournful wails echoing in every soul’s ears ceased. The Avalon fairies struggling to hold on, and the Valkyrie units under Fu Hua’s command, all stopped.
The shattered frawork of the world was repairing itself. Was this victory...? But why did that ominous spatial rift still remain?
rlin looked up, his usual frivolous deanor vanishing. A certain suspicion—one he had deliberately suppressed—now resurfaced.
"So soon..."
Either their side had won and the Swirl of the Root now had the spare power to begin repairing the structural damage caused by forced breaches in world stability...
Or—Selene had won.
If the world had already fallen into her hands, there was no longer any need for invasion or corruption.
A strange wave stirred within rlin’s heart. The next mont, a voice echoed forth—far more sinister than any re string of terrifying words.
"..."
rlin understood instantly. The entity issuing this proclamation to all life from the place that records all things—could only be Selene!
"To all forces: cease hostilities."
"End all extermination campaigns against the worlds. Discussions on terms of surrender are now permitted."
"Those who still resist—kill them all. Any who initiated attacks—exterminate their entire bloodlines. Collaborators—permanent exile."
As if beyond the infinite heavens, two red suns rose like eyes—gazing upon, binding, and oppressing all things. A terrifying pressure bled into the physical universe.
"Nngh..."
The blossoming illusory flowers instantly withered. Bodies buckled beneath the weight of that force. In that mont, they felt like ants beneath a god. The presence exuding this pressure stood above all life, even above the very world itself. Just hearing her voice sent rlin into a mont of ntal disorientation.
But it passed quickly.
As rlin rose to his feet again, he noticed nearby Imperial soldiers were just now starting to stand as well. As a nightmare, he shouldn’t sweat, but in that mont, he felt soaked and cold.
Clang—!
A sound split the air. rlin quickly dove aside like a frog, watching a steel whip slice off several strands of his hair.
Wearing a forced, shallow smile, he said, "Uh... must you insist on beating so badly?"
"You—what are you saying?" Senti, mid-swing, paused as rlin suddenly tossed aside his staff.
"What do I an? Didn’t Her Majesty Selene just issue terms for surrender...? So—I surrender."
Spreading his hands, rlin showed no sha—in fact, he looked pleased with himself. With a radiant smile, he turned the tables:
"Lady Senti, surely... you wouldn’t wish to defy Her Majesty’s command, would you?"
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