The majestic, maximum overdrive thrumming of the Al-Me’raj died a sudden, agonizing death.Though Kaelen’s raw physical heroism had successfully driven the ancient Void Leviathan back into the boiling dark whirlpool of the Obsidian Trench, the sheer kinetic shockwave of the beast’s final, desperate struggle had left a catastrophic mark on the ship’s lower frame.
High above the deck, the massive dark-matter sails violently sputtered, losing their smooth traction against the liquid starlight currents.
Deep within the secondary steering mechanisms, a heavy, critical star-metal rudder had fractured under the immense gravitational pressure, forcing the colossal cruiser to forcefully drop out of its un-trackable slipstream and limp helplessly into the brightly illuminated boundaries of the inner trading sectors.Sargon sat upon his grand obsidian throne, his posture slightly stiff.
He raised his left sleeve, checking his arm.
Beneath his pale skin, his spiritual veins were violently throbbing with a faint, erratic purple light.
The internal system interface hovered before his vision, flashing with an unyielding, cold text:
[Warning: Severe structural vibration has destabilized the unsealed gate’s core equilibrium.][Current Core Energy Reserves: 14.2% (Critical Low Status).][Emergency Protocol: Forcing a concept deletion via ‘Ultimate Attribute: Sovereign Void’ against any entity possessing a Tier 6 or higher soul-density will trigger immediate, fatal physical disintegration of the user’s human shell.]
Sargon let out a slow, silent breath.
His face remained expressionless, but beneath that calm, Gintama-like mask, a sudden, deep pang of bitter familiarity rippled through his mind.Weakness.This cold, suffocating limitation was exactly what he had felt for seventeen agonizing years in the desolate deserts of Aethelgard.
It was the exact same feeling of being completely helpless while the cultists of Calamity stepped on his face, treating him like lower than dirt because he was born hollow, with no soul or magic veins to defend himself.
The memory of his mother’s final, desperate whispers flashed behind his closed eyelids—”Hide your eyes, Sargon.
Do not let the heavens see the vacancy inside you until the gate can hold the weight…”He opened his pitch-black void eyes, the miniature stellar galaxies within his pupils spinning in slow, frustrated circles.
He was still too weak.
In front of the true, established heavyweights of the wider Ether Sea, his current unsealed stage was nothing but a fragile glass cup waiting to be shattered.CLANG.A heavy metallic step broke his train of thought.
Sargon looked down the long, star-metal deck.
Kaelen was standing near the fractured helm, his muscular body leaning heavily against the console for support.
The mercenary’s arms were completely soaked in cosmic green blood and sweat, the heavy cloth bandages unraveling to reveal deep, raw physical tears across his flesh.
Yet, despite the immense exhaustion, Kaelen’s sharp, battle-hardened gaze remained locked onto the dark horizon, his hand still gripping the hilt of his curved scimitar.
Looking at the warrior, a rare, quiet surge of genuine emotion passed through Sargon’s imperial detachment.
It was an unspoken, deep respect.
Kaelen had literally torn his own muscles to pieces to save the ship while Sargon’s sealed body coughed up blood.”Stand down, Kaelen,” Sargon commanded softly, his quiet voice carrying a calm but immovable weight.
“Do not draw your steel.
This time, we do not fight.””By your absolute will, My Lord,” Kaelen replied, his voice raspy and thick with physical fatigue as he slowly stepped away from the wheel, bowing his head in absolute reverence.Ahead of the ship’s limping prow, the open vacuum of the star ocean was no longer empty.
Emerging from the shifting gold nebulae was a massive, floating fortress built from interlocking slabs of white marble and reinforced brass arrays.
This was Checkpoint 44, a heavily fortified border outpost controlled by the silver-plated corporate forces of the Aurelian Merchant Guild.
Surrounding the fortress were ten colossal, pristine planetary battle-cruisers, each radiating a dense, suffocating aura of Tier 6 Sky Archon mana.
Sitting atop the central command tower of the outpost was a single, brilliant figure clad in flowing silk robes and intricate platinum shoulder guards.It was Commander Vane—a Tier 6 Sky Archon whose raw soul-density was so immense that the ambient starlight around his body physically bent, creating a natural shield of absolute authority.
He was a true powerhouse of the inner territories, an entity whose trained mortal mana core was as dense as a miniature moon.”Identify yourselves, drifting vessel!” a booming, high-frequency sound array thundered from the outpost, the pure sonic pressure causing the Al-Me’raj’s remaining dark-matter sails to ripple violently.
“You have entered the trade jurisdiction of the Aurelian Guild with a heavily damaged hull and an unregistered energy signature! Drop your anchors and prepare for boarding, or you will be categorized as a rogue pirate anomaly and vaporized by the fortress defense arrays!”Sargon slowly stood up from his obsidian throne.
His purple and gold embroidered merchant robes trailed elegantly across the floorboards as he walked toward the bow railing, his messy white hair brushing against the golden headband on his forehead.
System, Sargon thought, his internal voice completely flat.
Keep the Sovereign Void hidden.
Do not trigger the registry arrays.He stepped onto the outer edge of the bow deck, looking across the open void at the approaching silver-plated boarding skiffs containing thirty elite, Tier 4 Guild officers wielding enchanted mana halberds.
For the first time since launching his journey, Sargon could not use force.
He had to play by the harsh, structured rules of the wider cosmos.The boarding skiffs locked onto the Al-Me’raj’s hull with a sharp, magnetic hiss.
The Guild officers marched onto the deck, their silver armor plates gleaming under the artificial light of the checkpoint.
Leading them was a sharp-eyed, high-tier elven adjudicator holding a glowing holographic ledger.”This vessel matches no known blueprint in the Prime Axis,” the adjudicator said coldly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the ancient geometric runes carved into the star-metal deck.
He glanced at Kaelen’s bleeding, hostile form, then turned his gaze toward Sargon.
“Your hull is heavily fractured, and your servant radiates the scent of a primordial concept beast. Under Section 9 of the Aurelian Trade Code, an undocumented vessel carrying high-risk structural damage must pay an emergency boundary stabilization fee of fifteen thousand high-grade cosmic tokens. If you cannot pay, your vessel will be impounded, and your crew will be delivered to the local Archon court for interrogation.”
Kaelen’s fingers violently twitched against the handle of his scimitar, a low, dangerous growl vibrating in his throat.
But Sargon raised a single pale hand, silently commanding his first mate to maintain his stance.Sargon looked directly into the adjudicator’s eyes, his face maintaining that unbothered, Gintama-like calm.
He knew he had no cosmic tokens.
His currency cache was completely empty after Kaelen’s transaction at the lawless outpost.
But he possessed something far more valuable.”We carry no tokens,” Sargon spoke, his quiet voice echoing through the deck with a chilling, imperial serenity that made the silver-plated officers unconsciously step back.
“But we carry the raw elements of the deep trench.”With a slight mental twitch of his evolved [Ruler of Authority: Mass Control] law, Sargon targeted the central cargo hold below.
He didn’t use force to attack; he simply manipulated the density of the air, causing a heavy, floating crate to rise smoothly from the lower decks and hover precisely between him and the adjudicator.The crate lid slid open outward, revealing ten massive, unrefined blocks of pure Space-Time Ore and glowing violet Void Shards that Sargon had harvested from the crescent asteroid in Chapter 13.
The moment the raw elements were exposed to the air, a dense, intoxicating purple mist of pure space-time essence filled the deck, causing the adjudicator’s holographic ledger to wildly flicker with chaotic data readings.
The adjudicator’s eyes widened in pure, unadulterated greed.
“This…
this is raw, unrefined Space-Time Essence from the deep trenches…
It hasn’t been touched by the Eon filters…””Twenty tons of pure, raw space-time minerals,” Sargon said coldly, his galaxy-filled eyes locked onto the elf.
“More than enough to buy our passage, cover the emergency boundary fee, and secure three hours of undisturbed anchoring time in your lower docks to repair our steering rudder. Take the ore, or watch us execute a manual drift through your fortress walls. The choice is yours, adjudicator.”The threat was subtle, cloaked in absolute, detached confidence.
The adjudicator looked from the glowing violet minerals to Sargon’s bottomless pitch-black eyes, feeling an instinctual, cold sweat trickling down his spine.
Even though Sargon was internally weak and suffering from a critical energy low, his ancient, primordial demeanor made him look like a hidden, terrifying Eon Lord playing a dangerous game.The adjudicator swallowed hard, slowly lowering his mana halberd.
“Twenty tons of raw space-time ore… The Aurelian Guild accepts this toll. Your passage token is granted.”
The elf tapped his ledger, transmitting a silver clearance sigil into the Al-Me’raj’s navigation console.
“You have exactly three hours to clear the lower docks and complete your repairs.
If your vessel remains within the checkpoint boundaries after the timer expires, Commander Vane himself will intervene.””Three hours is more than enough,” Sargon replied flatly.The silver-plated officers carefully secured the heavy crate of minerals, marching back onto their boarding skiffs with their prize.
This victory had come with a heavy, painful cost—Sargon had been forced to trade away nearly half of the precious space-time ores he had risked his life to harvest from the crescent planetoid just to secure a safe passage through a single minor boundary gate.As the boarding skiffs disengaged and flew back toward the marble fortress, the Al-Me’raj slowly glided into the dark, protective shadow of the lower repair docks.Sargon walked back toward his grand throne, his purple robes rustling against the metal floor.
He sat down, leaning his head back against the stone cushions as his short, exhausted breaths began to steady.
He looked at his left hand, where [The Sovereign’s Signet: Nihil] was spinning in slow, lazy circles, its purple light dimming to match his low core energy.
The cosmos was vast, organized, and filled with terrifying powerhouses that could crush him in his current stage.
He had survived this checkpoint using nothing but his cold intellect, sharp strategy, and a painful material sacrifice.
He had been forced to bend to the rules of the lower gods.
But as his galaxy-filled eyes focused once more on the massive, glowing golden towers of the inner territories unfolding past the gate, the ruthless, imperial detachment inside his mind only hardened.The balance of the Prime Axis was shifting, and the road to becoming the King of the Three Heavens was going to be painted in blood, sacrifice, and strategy.
For now, the void would wait, heal, and watch from the shadows.
Thank you so much for reading today’s chapter!The journey across the deep cosmic currents of the Ether Sea is only getting started, and the stakes are rising with every single universe Sargon and Kaelen navigate.
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