Ethan was extrely excited beyond words. That ant, from today onward, he wouldn’t need any external energy for breaking through or using any of his skills. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and a boundless sense of freedom welled up inside him.
Again, a system notification chid crisply in his mind.
[Ding! Chaos law detected. The clone skill can be elevated to genesis level. Want to do it?]
"Genesis level?" Ethan murmured, raising an eyebrow. "What can it do?"
The genesis level clone skill can produce one single clone every ti with similar stats as you, and it can sustain as long as it isn’t killed. If killed, another clone can be created. The clone would be a blood-and-flesh person.
He thought carefully, weighing the benefits and the drawbacks. So the genesis level was taking away the power of making an infinite number of clones and, instead, granting him one single clone as powerful as himself. Wasn’t that, in a way, a loss? He valued flexibility far more than raw duplication of strength.
"Ah... I’ll pass on this for now," he decided. He would think of so other thod to create a clone as strong as himself later. Perhaps with the Law of Chaos as his foundation, he might eventually invent a skill even more terrifying.
anwhile, his core continued absorbing energy at a terrifying rate and expanding further. Ethan folded his arms and closed his eyes, trying to estimate just how far it would grow.
One basic law could expand the core up to a hundred tis. So nine basic laws would yield nine hundred tis expansion. As for the supre laws, each should individually expand the core five hundred tis. Two supre laws would thus create a thousandfold increase. So in total, it should have expanded up to one thousand nine hundred tis.
But this ti was different. His core was expanding based on the Law of Chaos—the ultimate law that governed and transcended all others. Nobody in history had docunted how far a core would grow under the influence of this primordial force.
"I guess I’ll just have to wait and see," he muttered, exhaling slowly. A faint smile curved his lips.
While he waited, one of Ethan’s clones sent him a ssage: the teleportation chamber had already been built. He had so ti before he inevitably broke through. Once he ascended to the planetary realm, all his clones would ascend along with him. That was why he wanted to use the remaining one day and six hours to enter the battlefield of other races while still in the Emperor Realm.
"Hehehe..." He couldn’t help the evil grin that spread across his face. "I’ll destroy those punks from the other races before my promotion."
Imdiately, he dispatched ten of his clones at 5% of his power, along with twenty clones at 2% of his power. The thirty figures moved in perfect unison toward the teleportation station.
Along the way, guards stood watch, clad in futuristic exosuits and ard with high-tech rifles that glead under the overhead lights. As soon as they saw thirty identical warriors clad in sleek, matte-black body armor marching in step, the guards stiffened in astonishnt. For a split second, the entire corridor fell silent.
Then, without hesitation, they all stood at attention and saluted as if they were welcoming an emperor. After all, these were the president’s clones—the president himself had co to inspect the teleportation chamber.
Ethan stepped forward and addressed one of the guards. "Do you know how to use that thing?"
The guard, a young man with neatly trimd hair and clear blue eyes, looked as if he might faint on the spot. He started nodding his head frantically, like a child eting his lifelong idol. Ethan had long since beco the living legend of Earth.
"Good," Ethan said with a slight nod. He paused, then spoke inwardly to the AI in his mind. "Queen Freya, I’d like to visit the battlefield of the other races."
The gentle yet commanding voice of Queen Freya responded. "That place is dangerous. Are you sure you want to proceed?"
"Yes," Ethan said calmly. Even if that place was perilous, these were rely his clones—he could create more of them infinitely. There was no real risk.
He stepped into the teleportation chamber, the reinforced steel floor humming softly beneath his boots. He handed the coordinates to the guard, which he’d received from Queen Freya.
The young guard adjusted the glowing control panel, his fingers trembling as he keyed in the location. Once the last rune locked in place, he swallowed nervously, looked up at Ethan’s helted figure, and pressed the activation rune.
All thirty clones shimred with radiant blue light before vanishing in an instant, their departure marked by a low-frequency thrum that rattled the walls.
After they were gone, the guard exhaled shakily, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. He felt like a child who had finally finished the hardest exam of his life.
"Damn, you’re so lucky," another guard muttered with envy, clapping him on the back. "The president actually spoke to you. Why wasn’t I the one stationed here today?"
The young man was still smiling from ear to ear. When he finally spoke, his tone was grave. "I... I don’t even know where the president went. Those coordinates were very, very far away."
anwhile, Ethan’s clones opened their eyes at once.
They had arrived on a star whose gravity was at least fifty thousand tis that of Earth. Even the air felt heavy, pressing down on them like a physical weight. The golden sky shimred above vast obsidian plains that stretched out to the horizon.
"So this is the galaxy of Neolance..." Ethan muttered through one of his clones, scanning the alien terrain. He turned slowly to take in the colossal mountains that ringed the plain like dark sentinels.
This was the border between the Primordial Humans and the Vampire Race. This star—known as Planet Xerox—was where the younger generations ca to fight.
The battlefield existed because countless small conflicts arose whenever the two races’ interests clashed. If high-level powerhouses took action over such trifling matters, the entire universe would mock them for their pettiness. So they had created a dedicated arena where these disputes could be resolved in honorable combat.
Every month , a battle erupted here. Each ti, about a billion warriors from each race participated, their combined might enough to crack moons.
"This place feels... alive," Ethan thought, his clones sharing the sa sentint.
He strode toward the human city where warriors gathered. All thirty clones moved in perfect synchrony, their armored boots thudding against the ancient alloy streets.
As they approached, several Emperor Realm martial artists cast curious glances their way. Most of the core mbers of the Primordial Humans didn’t bother to co to this place—usually, only low level contracted civilizations sent their soldiers to earn contribution points.
When Ethan reached the main city gate, a squad of guards stepped forward. One of them raised a hand, a polite but firm gesture. "Please remove your helts and place your hands on the identification machine."
Without hesitation, every clone complied. As their helts hissed and retracted, thirty identical faces were revealed—faces so devastatingly handso that several of the female martial artists nearby gasped audibly. But more importantly, every face was unmistakable.
The guard who had requested identification looked up, and for a split second, his eyes widened in disbelief. Then he dropped to one knee with a dull thud.
"Young Supre, forgive for the inconvenience! Please forgive my ignorance!"
Ethan wasn’t surprised at all. He gave a faint, reassuring smile. "Please do your duty. You don’t need to give special treatnt—enemies could copy my appearance to infiltrate this city. You know that."
The guard flushed with embarrassnt, his head bowed low. "Y-Yes, sir."
Ethan stepped forward, placing his palm against the scanner. One by one, each clone did the sa. A soft chi sounded as the machine confird their identities.
[Identity Confird: Ethan Hunt.]
The guard sighed in relief and waved them through the gate. Clone skills weren’t especially rare, so this didn’t cause much commotion—though the thought of so many powerful clones at once made so of the onlookers shiver.
Inside the city, Ethan took his ti observing everything. Although this settlent couldn’t compare to Solaris, it was at least fifty tis more advanced than Earth’s most modern cities. Crystal spires pierced the sky, their surfaces etched with living runes. Hover platforms zipped along transparent roadways, carrying armored warriors to and fro.
He walked into the nearest restaurant, a sleek place with shimring silver walls. The mont he entered, every patron fell silent, watching him with wide eyes.
He approached a young waiter, whose jaw went slack. "I’d like to know more about the battlefield," Ethan said calmly. "The rules, the customs... everything."
The waiter swallowed hard, blinking like he couldn’t believe this was real. "Y-Yes, sir..." He spoke as if in a daze. "There will be a battle in five hours. This will be a massive clash—five billion warriors from each race. The vampires are incredibly powerful, and most of our forces are not core mbers of the Primordial Humans, so we’re usually at a disadvantage. We lose about seven battles out of ten."
"The result is that bad?" Ethan asked, his tone curious.
The waiter nodded solemnly. "Yes, sir. Tomorrow’s battle is especially critical. A resource point was discovered in this galaxy, and both races want control over it. The higher-ups have sent many young geniuses from high-tier civilizations—perhaps even so core mbers."
Ethan tapped the table thoughtfully. "I see. Five billion per side... a humongous battle."
Before he left, he handed the waiter a thousand contribution points as a tip. The young man blanched and shook his head fiercely. "P-Please, sir—it’s my honor to answer your questions. I can’t accept this."
"What an honest guy," Ethan thought, smiling. He ordered more food just to ease the man’s embarrassnt.
Once he had eaten, he made his way to the city hall to et the City Lord—a Black Hole Realm powerhouse who oversaw this entire battlefield.
A guard saluted him crisply, then guided him through a labyrinth of polished corridors. Inside the main chamber, an imposing man with silver hair and deep blue eyes awaited him.
Ethan smiled. "It’s nice to et you, City Lord. I ca to participate in the upcoming battle."
City Lord Boris inclined his head respectfully. "It is my honor, Mr. Hunt. Your status is exceptional—though you are an Emperor, you are a young supre. If you wish, I can appoint you as a commander."
Ethan shook his head lightly. "I won’t communicate with the others. Just include in the roster. I’ll fight alongside my clones. Thank you for the offer."
Boris nodded gravely. "Understood. You are free to rest or tour the city—the battle will comnce in four hours."
Ethan left the hall, wandering back into the bustling avenues. As he walked, he considered what unique impression he could leave on this battlefield—how he might carve his legend into the minds of friend and foe alike.
A sly smile tugged at his lips. "That’s right," he thought. "It must be the BGM—the protagonist’s own background music when he enters the field with overwhelming aura."
He could picture it vividly: twenty of his less-powerful clones standing behind him as a battle band, their instrunts singing a fierce anthem that sent goosebumps down the spines of every spectator.
With the idea set in his mind, he created twenty violins instantly. As the clones took their instrunts, Ethan began recalling the grand battle songs of his past life—lodies that could shake worlds.
He would recreate those songs here and wipe out those vampire punks with a wave of hands. That would surely make a unique entry,hehe.
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