"I have already made the rule in the Geneline that no one is allowed to speak anything of our powers, but all of us still need to make an arcane oath."
"An arcane oath that we will not betray the House of Regalons in any form, way, or thought."
Almond declared. "Do it now."
All Regalons, numbering above two billion, made an oath, except for the kids below the age of 10.
But they could make the oath after turning ten years old.
Almond checked and nodded as everyone had indeed made the oath.
"Now, we will start shaping up this Spirit Voiderran Realm so that the non-combat force can start settling down."
"I am going to connect to roughly two thousand Regalons. We will have a shared network to create our civilization, with the main command being Krala and Neo."
"We will have a shared pool of spirits we have gathered by killing monsters and people alike, and we will be using Spirits to shape so of the things and giving them semi-consciousness."
"Let's start."
The void rippled.
At Almond's command, two thousand Regalons responded—no hesitation, no spoken word. A golden lattice of energy linked them across the horizonless expanse, threads of mory, power, and precision weaving into a living web. In its center, Krala and Neo flared—twin nexuses of will, accepting the command authority like breathing fire into a throne.
Then—creation surged.
From the silent pool of spirits harvested through blood and war, clouds of essence blood outward as everyone used their God Energy and wielded their elents.
Glimring fogs of fractured sentience, waiting to be shaped. Dozens of Regalons reached into them, fingers glowing with invocation. The spirits scread and shimred, then cald—as they were bound into new forms.
Mountains rose, breathing.
So with beating crystal hearts, so wrapped in spiraling forests, or veined with red-glowing ore that pulsed like arteries. Rivers of molten gemstone slithered between them, defying gravity, flowing upward and sideways. Where the rivers passed, buildings grew.
Not built—birthed.
Sprawling towers spiraled up, woven from tal-glass vines and blessed stones. Each structure was different—so wide and do-like, humming with peace, others narrow and tall, humming with vigilance. The semi-conscious spirits embedded in their walls shifted them subtly, opening or closing, changing shape to suit the needs of those who approached.
Floating platforms connected the cities like petals in a celestial lotus. Between them, bridges of iridescent force stretched and coiled, occasionally folding into themselves like sentient serpents. So of the roads are thought. So of them dread.
In the sky, sentry-spirits gathered—beings made of armor and light, birthed from warrior souls taken in battle. They nested in sanctuaries built from mirrored moonstone and obsidian alloy, where they whispered between each other in a language of pulses.
Krala and Neo's shared will reached deep into the foundation, drawing from reservoirs of stored energy, deploying it in fractal bursts to stabilize the ecosystem. Cities arranged themselves in geotric harmony, rging aesthetic grace with soul-level functionality.
Gardens unfurled, not with flowers, but with dream-beasts made of vines and wind, roaming lazily through lush glades, to be used later for transportation.
Trees with translucent bark bore fruits of healing, providing fresh air while singing lullabies to soothe the spirits embedded in the land.
Massive archives erged from the ground—pyramidal, tiered, with floating layers and inkless tos that glowed when touched. Knowledge is encoded directly into the spirit-fabric of the walls. Each archive housed a whisper-core: a thinking node made from spirit, reford and purified, serving now as custodians for people.
Workshops and forges clustered across a massive-sized platform ring, humming with magic-tech so advanced it made the air buzz. Forge-spirits shaped matter like sculptors dreaming in tal for people to forge tools, weapons, armor, everything else. So creations road freely—intelligent, but loyal only to the Geneline.
Across the Realm, towers of weather control, spirit guidance, and dinsion defense slowly rose, synchronized to one another by Neo's shared field. Krala whispered continuously to the spirit matrix, keeping harmony in their evolving pseudo-conscious network.
In this world, the law must be maintained. Almond didn't want any nefarious minds and the birth of criminals.
And above it all, a single monunt was raised.
An eternal spire, a hundred kiloters tall, wrapped in flas that whispered the oath that everyone made. Inside, a fragnt of every Regalon spirit burned like a star, feeding the realm with loyalty, mory, and strength, so when the Regalons use the Voiderran Spirit Phantom technique to venture into the Grimworld and die, they could be reborn here as long as the tower had sufficient energy.
In just several hours, the Spirit Voiderran Realm was no longer an empty world.
It had begun to breathe.
It had turned into a civilization.
It had beco a ho.
…
The Regalons settled in the cities according to their power level.
Those at Mythical rank and below, the Mortals, were sent to the Mortal region. The things and training facilities here were for people to reach the peak of Mortal-rank.
Those at High-moral and above, until Immortal Sovereign, were sent to the Immortal region.
And lastly, the Gods went to the Godly region.
There was still so much to develop and gather because to sustain this, they needed more things, and Almond and Lily planned to suck the Grimworld Tree to sustain and truly complete this Spirit Voiderran Realm to keep it self-sustained.
First, all the Regalons who were at God-rank or above were called to the central plaza to learn the Voiderran Spirit Phantom technique.
Without it, going outside was impossible.
As the originators of the Voiderran, Almond and Lily could stay outside as long as they wished, unless they were killed.
But for others, it depended on their proficiencies.
After everyone gained the basic mastery, they began individual training on their own.
Chief of Roxenvale hurried to Almond and Lily, who were on the top of the spire, in the garden of ditation.
"Chief Almond, you pulled quite a ground-breaking event," Kedarran said with a wry smile as he stood before the duo. "Since this is the case, I wonder if you will allow the rest of my familia to enter here?"
"I can allow that." Almond nodded. "I can give you the permission to turn others into Regalons, but I am giving you a choice now. Are you sure you want to remain a Regalon?"
"In this path, we are ultimately going to tear through this grimworld forcefully, or we will die trying. We are the enemy of the entire world," Lily said flatly. "So make your choice."
Kedarran's expression was somber. "If what you said is true, and I actually do believe that, I don't want to make myself stronger just to be a slave in the end."
"Alright. Then once the Grimworld's transformation is over, we will go to your familia and turn them into the Regalons."
"Alright," Kedarran said with a nod, a newfound fighting spirit in his eyes.
Although he wasn't expecting sothing like this even in his wildest dreams, he was thrilled to be a part of this grand adventure that the House of Regalon had embarked upon.
anwhile, in the depths of the Grimworld Tree, multiple eyes lit up.
"Oh my...Almond and Lily, you two really freaking did that."
"Now this is exciting and hopeful."
"Hmm, I should try to exert myself a bit. During this transformation, I might just be able to connect with that realm if I see an opening."
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