The silver-fluid guardians still held firm.
No matter how violently Nakoro ramd into them, no matter what desperate attacks he unleashed, the flowing tal absorbed most of the force. A few dents appeared along their surfaces, but nothing significant. Rowan barely spared them a glance. Compared to what he planned to unleash next, those scratches were nothing.
Rowan drew in a breath, feeling the familiar surge of power coursing through him. His fist tightened. At once, a brilliant violet glow flared to life across his knuckles. The Power Stone's energy roared like a storm, and the air around him twisted as currents of wind spiraled outward. He layered the strength of his five Domains into the punch, and the force skyrocketed once again.
"No no no, do not kill ! I surrender! I will beco your servant, your slave, anything you want! Please, great one, spare !"
Nakoro collapsed to his knees. Every trace of defiance evaporated as raw terror seized him. His eyes trembled, unfocused, desperately searching for rcy.
"Oh? I never forced you," Rowan replied lightly.
"No, never. I offer myself willingly," Nakoro babbled, voice cracking. The truth was simple: he still had no idea what Rowan truly was or how he wielded such ridiculous power.
Because Nakoro's rank was too low, he couldn't sense the Infinity Stones properly. To a Realm Lord or an Immortal, the Power Stone's presence would have been as obvious as a blazing sun. But Nakoro? He was blind to it.
"Do not resist. Accept my soul brand."
Rowan did not withdraw his attack. He had lived long enough in dangerous corners of the universe to understand the cunning of cosmic wanderers like Nakoro. Submission could be faked. Desperation could be a trap. If Rowan let his guard down for even one heartbeat, soone like Nakoro might try a suicidal reversal that could kill him.
The silver guardians held Nakoro down. The trembling warrior lowered his weapons, let his breathing even out, and willingly exposed his mind. The next mont, Rowan pressed the brand into his soul.
A shimr of golden runes flickered within Nakoro's pupils before fading.
"Master…" Nakoro whispered, bowing low.
Rowan dismissed the silver guardians with a wave. "Good. I will keep my word. I will not mistreat you. And when your service is no longer needed, I will release you. In the anti, I will give you so proper cultivation thods."
He spoke calmly, but excitent stirred in his chest. He had just acquired a cosmic-level warrior without spending a single coin.
A cosmic fighter of the third tier normally cost five trillion Black Dragon Coins. Even back when Luo Feng purchased Di Fan, a ninth-rank psychic, he had only paid one hundred billion. Psychics always cost more than physical combatants.
Five trillion. For free.
Rowan could hardly complain.
"Now, about the two cosmic-level assassins who chased you on Qiu-Long Star," Rowan continued. "Was it because you were carrying flesh from the Shadowfiend Clan?"
Nakoro froze. Then a sudden realization hit him, his eyes widening. "Master… you were that man at the hotel. The one outside the lobby."
"Yes."
Nakoro gulped. "The box indeed contains a Shadowfiend's arm. I intended to auction it through the Galactic Bank, but two thieves discovered it and tried to rob ."
He retrieved the box from his storage space. Rowan didn't care how Nakoro obtained it. The only thing that mattered was the Shadowfiend's remains. He needed it. He needed it for his new body.
Inside lay a pitch-black arm, ink-dark with strange silver-gray runes curling along its surface. Though the owner had long died, terrifying energy still clung to the limb, making the very air hum with faint distortions.
Even in this weaker Marvel-universe frawork, the arm's spatial resonance was unmistakable.
"Incredible," Rowan muttered. "Even dead for so long, it still stirs the fabric of space."
"Based on my information, its owner was a peak Realm Lord acknowledged by the Law of Space," Nakoro explained.
"Oh? And how did you acquire it?"
"It was part of my teacher's legacy. He was a Realm Lord who died on the outer battlefield. This was all he left behind."
Rowan nodded. "Stay here and guard ."
"Yes, Master."
With a cosmic-rank guardian watching over him, Rowan could safely begin his work.
He sat down, legs folded, and wrapped the Shadowfiend arm in his spiritual power. His innate ability activated.
Golden filants stread from Rowan's inner world, weaving around the limb. The arm did not need to be intact. A small portion of its genetic essence was enough.
Rowan dissolved half a fingertip's worth of flesh. The defenses of the arm, once nearly invincible, had long degraded with ti and death. The dissolution was smooth.
Ti passed.
At last, the golden strands faded, and a glowing sphere ford within Rowan's inner world. A new life. A new body.
Nakoro watched in awe as Rowan cultivated a clone. To him, such a feat ant only one thing: Rowan was backed by an Immortal-level master.
And he wasn't wrong.
But Rowan frowned.
"It will take over ten years at this rate."
Too slow.
He had assud the Shadowfiend bloodline would take perhaps three years to gestate, similar to Luo Feng's Mosha clone. But the Shadowfiends were far stronger. Warriors of pure battle, wielders of space. Their genetic complexity demanded ti.
Too much ti.
Rowan lifted his hand. The Infinity Gauntlet glead. The Ti Stone pulsed.
The world shone erald.
Externally, nothing changed. But within that sphere of green light, ti accelerated at an impossible pace.
Ten years passed in ten seconds.
The golden egg cracked.
A new Rowan stepped out, naked, identical, eyes sharp and aware.
A Shadowfiend clone.
Stronger than a Mosha clone. The genes were different, but the replication ability remained. One bloodline walked the path of spatial law. The other, temporal.
Both supre.
"Hello," Rowan said.
"Hello," the clone replied.
Rowan outfitted him with an SS-grade suit. He would upgrade later, once his funds were unrestricted.
Next ca the true experint.
Could a clone maintain contact across universes? Would a clone in one cosmos die if the main body left the dinsion entirely?
There was only one way to know.
Rowan took Nakoro and activated the Dinsional Ring. Nakoro shut his eyes, following Rowan's command to avoid sensing anything.
Reality twisted.
Stars shifted.
Rowan stepped back into the Marvel Universe.
And at once, he sensed his clone.
Clear. Distinct. Connected.
It worked.
Their consciousnesses touched across worlds without interference. If one died, the other would feel it instantly.
Perfect.
Rowan returned to the Devouring world, hid his life-core inside the Shadowfiend body, and left three silver guardians with his clone. The clone remained on the barren planet to ditate on the Law of Ti.
Then Rowan resud his journey with Nakoro.
He asked about Nakoro's techniques. The man used twin axes and cultivated a manual that only reached the Domain Lord level. His teacher had been rely mid-tier among Realm Lords.
Rowan gifted him a Marquis-level technique. The first half only. Nakoro would never reach Immortal rank without enlightennt, but with this manual, he could at least touch the threshold of true power.
Then Rowan rembered another matter. He opened the box that sealed Babata.
The AI erupted like a volcano.
"You ungrateful little disciple! Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused? I was your master's closest companion! Your guardian! And you sealed in a box like so trinket! This is betrayal, this is disrespect, this is "
Rowan ignored her entirely, munching on the snacks Xiaoya brought. The girl happily tended to him. She couldn't play instrunts or paint, but massage and cooking? She excelled.
Babata spun around mid-rant and froze when she saw Nakoro's fiery aura.
"How is a cosmic-rank warrior standing here?"
"He's my slave," Rowan answered casually.
"Slave? You enslaved a cosmic-level tier three?"
Rowan leaned back in the command chair, crossing one leg lazily over the other. "If your eyes still work, you can see for yourself."
Nakoro bowed deeply. "Greetings, Master's companion."
Babata stared in disbelief.
And Rowan simply smiled.
Another step forward. Another piece of the universe under his control.
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