In his existence, battles were a di a dozen.
They ca and went like waves upon a shore. So were morable. Most were not. Violence was simply a tool to be wielded when necessary, discarded when it no longer served a purpose.
But he wanted to give special attention to Gilgash.
Purely because of what this being had done when he sent an attack of curiosity across ti.
That golden light that had descended upon Noah and his people in the Early Veiled Shore. That casual display of power that had nearly collapsed everything he was building. That arrogant inquiry from a being who viewed others as interesting specins rather than equals.
Noah rembered.
And he always collected his debts!
Due to how rapidly he progressed, there were tis when enemies he detested... he bypassed their power so completely that it wasn’t even fun when they collapsed beneath his Weight. By the ti he was ready to face them, they had beco insects beneath his heel. The satisfaction of vengeance was hollow when the target couldn’t even comprehend what was happening to them.
Gilgash was at a sweet spot that was just right!
His own Weight and Imnsity was breaking toward Fundantal as Gilgash would be a worthy existence to carve out his glory! A genuine challenge. A aningful victory. Sothing he could savor rather than simply execute.
And as he did this here, he was particularly focused on the actions of his body in the deeper areas of this Vault of Ginnungagap.
He felt like it was ti to spread the Phones he created.
After seeing THE Creature lay out an Embodint utilizing The First Tongue and gaining nothing from it... Noah wanted to collect taxes on all the harvest and usage of The First Tongue. He would be able to do so more closely with his personally forged Phones!
The 18 Core Phones had existed before his Claim. Others had been using them for eons. Harvesting from that usage was indirect, filtered through layers of established practice as the harvest was a re percentage and ongoing.
But his 9 original Phones?
Quintessence. Infinity. Tyranny. Fortune. Advantage. Narrative. Harvest. Hunger. Potential.
These were his creations. His contributions to The First Tongue. Every being who learned and used them would be using sothing that Noah had personally brought into existence.
The harvest from that would be direct.
The harvest from that would be his alone as he would tax absolutely everyone!
So as a glorious battle began to show a supposed leader what a true tyrannical leader was like, his gaze flickered to another place deeper from here.
Back in THE Agora of Primordial Judgnt!
In the library of The Glossarians that represented an opportunity to collapse an Absolute while reinforcing his Way again and again, and obtaining the treasures lying within this Vault of Ginnungagap!
---
In the Logoseion.
The atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
Noah floated above the swirling blue-gold plasma sea, his toga inscribed with shifting Phones, his laurel of crystallized language catching light that seed to co from nowhere. The zero upon his chest marked him as a newcor. A Hoplite with zero rit daring to challenge a Lochagos with nearly 450.
Opposite him, Theoris the Articulate maintained her position with casual elegance. Her vibrant spectacles reflected the plasma sea below. Her dark hair flowed in currents of linguistic energy that swirled around her form. Her toga displayed CDXLVIII in glowing nurals.
The surrounding Glossarians watched in silence.
This was the scholarly air of the Logoseion. Even though many carried looks of mocking amusent, even though laughter had rippled through the crowd monts before, they did not scream or roar out their entertainnt. They stayed silent while watching the debate ahead.
This was a place of learning.
Even foolishness could teach valuable lessons.
Hoplites of various forms sat in circular arrangent, their eyes fixed on the confrontation. Bears and serpents and humanoids and abstract beings, all wearing blue-gold togas, all curious to see how badly this newcor would be humiliated.
The Lochagoi present observed with more nuanced expressions. So showed pity. So showed boredom. A few showed the faintest glimrs of interest, wondering if perhaps this Hoplite knew sothing they didn’t.
Ophelia watched from the crowd with wide eyes, her serpentine form coiled tightly with concern for the newcor she had been assigned to guide.
Lumivara’s tail swished with barely contained excitent.
Ul’moreth’s veiled eyes burned with anticipation.
Skoll sat on his haunches with his tongue out, not understanding what was happening but happy to be here with his new Master.
Theoris gazed at Noah with imperious confidence.
"I will not even push for a complex debate of Logos or Philologies for you."
Her voice carried the patient condescension of a teacher addressing a particularly slow student.
"We can simply conjure a single Phone and see who writes it out the best. To its truest expression."
She adjusted her spectacles with one finger.
"This is the most basic test of linguistic understanding. If you cannot even express a single Phone with clarity, there is no point discussing higher constructs."
Her lips curved into a smile that held no warmth.
"Consider this a lesson, Hoplite. Learn from your failure today, and perhaps in a few centuries, you might be worthy of standing where you currently stand."
...!
Her words were calm with a hint of majesty.
As if she was taking the ti to educate a junior!
As if this debate was already decided and she was simply going through the motions out of obligation!
The surrounding Glossarians nodded with approval at her generosity. She was giving this foolish newcor the simplest possible test. She was being rciful.
Theoris raised her finger.
Light began to gather at its tip.
She inscribed the Phone of Fire into the air before her!
The construct blazed into existence with fiery brilliance! Crimson and blue light intertwined in patterns that spoke of combustion and heat and transformation! The Phone burned above the plasma sea with intensity that made nearby observers shield their eyes!
It was beautiful.
It was precise.
It was the work of soone who had spent eons refining their understanding of this single concept. Every curve of the inscription was perfect. Every line carried aning that supported and enhanced the whole. The Phone of Fire as Theoris expressed it was a masterwork of linguistic artistry.
The crowd murmured with appreciation.
This was why she was close to becoming a Polemarch. This was the standard against which this foolish Hoplite would be asured.
Noah looked at it.
His eyes traced every line. Every curve. Every subtle inflection of aning that Theoris had woven into her expression of Fire.
Then he nodded.
"Adequate."
...!
The word hung in the air.
What?
Adequate?
ADEQUATE?!
Whispers erupted through the Logoseion! Hoplites exchanged glances of disbelief! Lochagoi raised eyebrows at the sheer audacity of this newcor!
Theoris’s expression flickered with the first hint of irritation.
"Adequate?" she repeated, her voice carrying dangerous edges. "You dare call my expression of Fire rely adequate? Do you have any idea how many years I have spent refining-"
But before she could finish.
Before anyone could react.
Noah waved his hand.
And he revealed not rely the Phone of Fire.
He revealed THE Absolute Seal of Fire!
BOOM!
The mont it fully ca to fruition, the entire Logoseion shuddered!
The Seal blazed into existence above Noah’s palm with radiance that made Theoris’s Phone look like a candle beside a sun! It was massive, perhaps ten ters in diater, and it burned with patterns of such impossible complexity that observers felt their minds straining just to perceive its edges!
This was Fire.
Not the Fire that mortals understood. Not the Fire that even ancient scholars had spent eons studying.
This was Fire as it existed in the deepest foundations of reality. Fire as a concept so fundantal that it predated the formation of stars. Fire as one of the 18 pillars upon which The First Tongue itself was constructed.
And more than that...
Within the Seal, compressed and refined and made infinitely more dense, were the Stanchions that Noah had absorbed into this singular expression. Every aspect of combustion. Every facet of heat. Every nuance of transformation through burning.
All of it contained in one perfect, impossible construct.
Theoris was stunned!
Her vibrant spectacles seed to fog over as she looked the Seal up and down, her enhanced perception struggling to process what she was witnessing!
It was the Phone of Fire.
But so much more glorious!
So much more... complete!
She had spent years on years perfecting her expression of Fire. She had believed herself among the greatest practitioners of this particular Phone in all of THE Agora of Primordial Judgnt.
And this newcor had just casually displayed sothing that made her life’s work look like a child’s first attempt at writing!
She was not the only one affected.
When Glossarians looked up and saw the Seal, they were initially confused.
What was this? It looked like the Phone of Fire, but the structure was wrong. No, not wrong. Different. More. It was as if soone had taken the Phone they all knew and revealed that it was rely a shadow of sothing far greater.
Then shock rippled through the crowd!
This was real. This was actually happening. A Hoplite with zero rit had just displayed mastery of Fire that exceeded anything the Logoseion had witnessed in recorded mory!
Then contemplation descended.
An imnse silence fell across the entire chamber. All eyes focused on that Seal. All minds struggled to understand what they were seeing. All preconceptions about this debate were being violently restructured.
That Seal!
That impossible, glorious, reality-defining Seal!
Even Ul’moreth and Lumivara looked at it with vibrant eyes!
They had not fully seen Noah’s Seals before. They had witnessed his mastery of The First Tongue. But seeing it displayed here, in this ancient place of linguistic study, surrounded by beings who had dedicated their entire existences to understanding these concepts...
It hit differently.
At this ti, Noah allowed the Seal to continue burning above his palm.
He looked out at the gathered Glossarians with eyes that held the calm certainty of one who knew exactly what he was doing.
"Today, I wish to do many things."
His voice carried across the silent Logoseion with weight that pressed against every listener.
"This is just a glimpse."
He gestured toward the Seal of Fire, toward the impossible perfection it represented.
"Barring this debate, I wish to make a contribution and elevate what the Glossarians know about The First Tongue."
The Seal pulsed with radiance that made the plasma sea below churn with excited energy.
"Today..."
His eyes swept across Hoplites and Lochagoi alike.
"I wish to teach."
...!
BOOM!
The words landed like hamrs upon the foundations of everything the Glossarians believed!
A Hoplite.
A newcor with zero rit.
Claiming that he wished to TEACH those who had studied The First Tongue for eons?!
But that Seal continued to burn above his palm.
That impossible, undeniable proof of mastery that exceeded anything they had achieved.
And slowly, one by one, the mocking expressions faded from faces throughout the Logoseion.
Sothing was happening here!
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