The collective breath of the Empyrean Bazaar hitched, freezing the bustling grand plaza into a state of sudden, absolute silence.
Thousands of inter-dimensional merchants, cloaked travelers, and high-ranking emissaries from various distant star systems stood completely still beneath the towering white marble minarets of the Nexus.
Their eyes were locked onto the ten-pace gap separating the elite bronze-clad enforcers of the Olympus Sector from a lone, pale youth who wore nothing but the slightly frayed, ordinary silk garments of a lower-realm traveling merchant.For a long moment, the only sound that echoed through the vast marble courtyard was the violent, rhythmic crackle of white lightning dancing across the shoulders of the golden-haired guard captain.”What did you just say, you insignificant worm?” the captain hissed, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble that caused the ambient air around him to smell heavily of burnt ozone.
The electrical discharge flowing from his arms intensified, arcing outward and scorching the crystalline tiles at his feet.
“You dare speak of the Thunder King as if his sovereign domain means nothing to you? You dare insult the absolute authority of an Eon Lord in his own designated trading sector?”
Sargon did not answer.
He didn’t even shift his weight.
His hands remained tucked deep within the loose, flowing sleeves of his silk merchant robes, his posture relaxed and entirely detached from the hostility radiating before him.
His pitch-black void eyes, filled with the lazy, majestic rotation of miniature stellar galaxies, remained fixed on the golden-haired warrior.
To an outside observer, Sargon looked like a helpless mortal who had lost his wits from sheer terror.
But to the fabric of reality itself, Sargon was an immovable mountain staring at a passing gust of wind.”Men!
Draw your blades!” the captain roared, his patience instantly snapping as his face contorted into a mask of pure, unadulterated fury.
“This defective piece of trash thinks his silence can protect him!
Shatter his limbs, drag his companion to the execution square, and ensure every lower-realm merchant here understands the price of disrespecting the Olympus crest!””Haaah!”
With a synchronized, guttural battle cry, the twelve elite bronze-armored guards behind the captain stepped forward simultaneously.
The heavy metal plates of their gear clattered loudly against the stone floor as they drew their heavy, double-edged broadswords.
The steel blades instantly ignited with jagged arcs of white-hot lightning, the crackling energy hum emitting a pressure that caused several nearby weak-souled merchants to stumble backward in panic, desperate to create distance from the oncoming slaughter.The squad moved with perfect military precision, their heavy bronze boots stamping hard against the pristine white marble as they rushed forward to encircle Sargon and Kaelen.Two paces behind his master, Kaelen did not flinch.
His hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sheathed scimitar, his expression completely blank and devoid of personal fear.
Under the permanent, absolute sedation of Sargon’s command law, Kaelen’s mind was an unassailable vault of pure obedience.
He did not care that twelve elite thunder-warriors were rushing toward them with planet-scorching blades.
He only waited for the single mental signal from the Sovereign.
Sargon calmly took one step forward.His bare right foot came down directly atop the fist-sized, radiant violet crystal that had rolled across the floor—the Eon-Grade Astral Ether-Core.
The moment his skin pressed against the crystal’s surface, a tiny, undetectable thread of his Primordial Consciousness leaked into the core, completely subduing the volatile cosmic energy trapped within it, forcing the crystal to go completely silent beneath his heel.Sargon looked at the rushing squad of guards, their glowing lightning broadswords less than five paces away from his face.
He didn’t lift his hands.
He didn’t chant an incantation.
He simply willed his left chest to pulse.[Ultimate Attribute: Ruler of Authority] unsealed.Bow.
The command did not leave Sargon’s mouth as a spoken word.
It was a silent, absolute mental edict thrown directly into the universal ledger.
Sargon’s consciousness reached out and grabbed the fundamental concept of “Weight” and “Gravity” embedded within the heavy bronze armor worn by the twelve guards and their captain, violently manipulating the physical laws governing their gear.BOOM.An invisible, catastrophic shockwave of pure, artificial mass slammed downward into the plaza floor.It was so sudden and violent that the air itself groaned under the abrupt shift in atmospheric pressure.
In less than a millisecond, the weight of the bronze armor worn by the guards did not just double or triple—it multiplied by a hundred fold.
The pristine metal plates, previously light enough for the high-tier cultivators to wear effortlessly, suddenly transformed into the weight of twelve collapsing mountains pressing down on their shoulders.”Gah—!”
The captain’s battle cry cut off into a strangled, agonizing gasp.
The sheer, crushing gravity tore his boots right through the crystalline tiles.
Before he could even swing his broadsword, his knees violently slammed into the white marble floor, the intense impact shattering the stone beneath his joints into a massive spiderweb of deep cracks.
Black blood sprayed from his mouth as the immense pressure compressed his lungs, forcing the white lightning arcing across his shoulders to violently sputter and die like a candle in a storm.CRASH!
CRASH!
CRASH!A rapid succession of heavy, metallic impacts echoed across the central plaza as the remaining twelve elite guards collapsed simultaneously.
They didn’t just fall—they were brutally, helplessly flattened against the ground.
Their heavy bronze broadswords slipped from their numb fingers, clattering uselessly away into the dirt as their armored chests were violently pinned flat against the shattered marble tiles.
The intense weight of their own gear was crushing their ribs, forcing them into a state of absolute, unbreakable submission.
From an outside perspective, it looked as if an invisible, omnipotent hand had descended from the heavens, forcing the entire proud vanguard of the Olympus Sector to bow flat in the dirt at the feet of a tattered youth.The thousands of watching merchants in the Empyrean Bazaar stood completely paralyzed, their jaws dropped in a state of pure, mind-breaking shock.
These were the elite executioners who served the Eon Deity Zeus—immortal warriors who had slaughtered entire dimensional armies in the star seas.
Yet now, they were lying in their own blood, unable to lift a single finger, completely defeated without the pale youth even moving a hand from his sleeves.”W-What…
what is this…?” the guard captain choked out, his golden hair trailing in the dirt as he desperately tried to lift his head.
Every time he attempted to channel his mana pool to spark his lightning, the ambient elemental streams of the plaza refused to answer his call.
The air itself seemed to have turned its back on him, obeying a higher, ancient authority that bypassed his soul completely.
“My mana… my core… it’s locked… Who are you, you freak?!”
Sargon looked down at the kneeling captain, his gaze completely cold, flat, and empty of personal emotion.
To the spinning galaxies within his pitch-black eyes, the captain’s rage was nothing but the meaningless buzzing of an insect.
Sargon did not hate him; a sovereign does not feel hatred for a speck of dust.”You speak of your Eon King’s laws as if they are absolute within this bazaar,” Sargon said softly, his voice echoing cleanly through the absolute silence of the plaza.
“But you have forgotten a simple truth. The armor you wear is forged from the metal of creation. The elements you command are drawn from the streams of reality. And reality… must always obey my voice.”Sargon slowly bent down, his hand sliding out from his silk sleeve.
His pale fingers wrapped calmly around the fist-sized violet Astral Ether-Core crystal sitting beneath his foot.
The moment his skin made contact with the core, the system notification manifested directly in his vision, flashing with a brilliant, universal starlight:[Notice: High-Grade Energy Catalyst ‘Eon-Grade Astral Ether-Core’ has been successfully secured.][Notice: The volatile divinity locked within the core has been fully subdued by the User’s Primordial Consciousness.][Vessel Link Active: Remote refueling sequence for the ‘Al-Me’raj’ has been initiated. Current Void Drive capacity is rising: 24%… 40%… 65%… 90%.]Sargon felt the deep, resonant hum of his hidden obsidian ship amplify far across the western docks of the port, its dark-matter sails vibrating with a newly restored, hungry cosmic power.
The core reserves were replenished.
His primary mission within this neutral port was officially complete.
Sargon stood back up, casually slipping the glowing violet crystal into the small, invisible tear in space he created using his void power, storing it safely within his personal sub-dimension.
He didn’t glance back at the shattered stall or the old masked merchant, nor did he look at the groaning, bloodied guards pinned to the ground.”Kaelen,” Sargon commanded quietly, turning his back on the plaza.
“We are leaving.
The ship is ready.””Yes, My Lord,” Kaelen replied instantly, his voice level and steady as he stepped over the flattened body of a bronze guard, following exactly two paces behind Sargon like a silent, loyal shadow.
The crowd of thousands of cosmic travelers violently, frantically parted as Sargon walked forward.
They practically threw themselves into the shadows of the silk tents, trembling with a profound, instinctual terror as the pale youth passed them.
They didn’t know his name, they didn’t know his lineage, and they didn’t know where his terrifying, silent authority came from.
To the entire Nexus of Babylon, Sargon had just become an absolute, unexplained cosmic mystery—a walking void that had effortlessly crushed the pride of an Eon Lord.As Sargon’s figure slowly vanished into the crowded arches of the bazaar, heading back toward the western harbor, the invisible gravity vice pinning the guards finally snapped.
“Haaah… haaah…” The golden-haired captain gasped violently, his chest expanding as the hundred-fold weight vanished from his bronze armor.
He dragged his bruised body out of the shattered marble crater, his hands shaking so violently he could barely pick up his dropped broadsword.He looked toward the empty exit of the plaza, his lightning-filled eyes flickering with a toxic mixture of deep humiliation and existential dread.
He knew he had survived only because the white-haired youth had deemed him too insignificant to delete from existence.”Report…
report this to the Olympus Core immediately,” the captain wheezed, turning to his bleeding guards who were crawling out of the dirt.
“An unknown anomaly… a soul-less entity with a law above the elements has entered the Prime Axis. Tell the High Archons… the Thunder King’s treasury has been plundered.”
High above the floating marble island, the deep purple waves of the Ether Sea continued to roll silently, completely unaware that the first true tremor of the Sovereign’s return was already spreading through the immortal courts of the Eon Deities.
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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