The pair of soul-bonded partners begin to forget they are even standing in an ancient room within the Fortress.
The swirling ether around them that flows into their bodies, minds, and souls continues to increase their understandings of Celestial Energy to a staggering degree. It is as though ether maturity is flowing through their souls, adding to their foundations as if the remains of this Wyvern’s soul are now their own.
They see through the white-winged Wyvern’s eyes, both below in the Lower Realm when it once thrived and looking over many Wyvern worlds in a white star system of its own in the Elites’ star sector.
However, their planets, and many others with enough energy to produce high-potency Noble life, were targeted over the years by the ruling Royal Family Demons.
As the previous Overseer’s seat was that of a Wyvern, many advantages were still held by their race, with defense systems and hidden areas in the massive void of open space that lasted through the Imperials’ and Vanguards’ reign.
However, thousands of grand wars stream through Abby and Seraphel’s minds, from millions of years ago. The destructive power of the attacks from yellow-cored demons in the lower realm is almost unfathomable. Noble and High Nobles were of common origin in both the Wyvern and Demon Races. Many of their wars destroyed entire star systems and tore artificial tears through the realms, creating dead areas of space where entire stars once rested.
The slow and steady infiltration of stronger Demons over time in the green zone is shown to them, how Lucian rose from the Lower Realm, and bested this white Wyvern in a great war.
However, a strange fact that stands out in these passing inherited memories is the constant ascension of elves to the higher zones.
The two races have come to an agreement for the armies of elves to hold back Demons from progressing in the higher zones. However, the agreement itself is fuzzy, its details happening before this white Wyvern’s time.
By the time it lost the green zone, there were little to no elves left.
This timeline repeats over and over, and every time it does, certain techniques are more of a focus, to let the inheritors’ minds subconsciously absorb them more naturally.
Each time these battles, cultivation techniques, and moments of grand epiphanies pass, more details seep into Seraphel and Abby’s minds. Many of which reveal the recurring appearance of a sharp, crimson-eyed dragon.
–
In this state of enlightenment, many hours pass, and the physical state of the two inheritors do not change as they absorb more and more knowledge.
The ancient arrays that have activated outside the Citadel continue to slowly spin, maintaining the state of this chamber and security commands that were put in place by its creator long ago.
The fluctuations in the air can be felt tens of millions of kilometers away, at the floor of the green zone, below the newly built grand citadel.
Hours have passed since the beam of Celestial light elf magic burst through the sky, and Ember has already walked all the way over to the reactor that has been used in the past for zone to zone travel within the Upper Realm.
He lets out a thin smile as the subtle fluctuations from the Fortress hit his subconscious.
In his right arm, a sleeping elf still lies unconscious. However, his left palm is touching the reactor without any barriers keeping it away.
The dangerous waves of silver threads pulsing through the machine are colliding with his soul, and in return, a silver glint shines in the dragon’s eye as he sends pulses of his Celestial Energy into the reactor. It fluctuates with white surges of its own ether commands, and the silver threads within it react in strangely symmetrical patterns, different than the unpredictable and erratic flow this reactor usually shows.
Fatigue builds up in Ember’s body again, growing worse and worse as the hours pass. However, he is not manipulating a large scale of threads like he was in his massive Celestial Battle Form that spread across tens of thousands of kilometers.
This is a more intricate task where he can focus and not cause too much mental stress.
Ember murmurs to himself after a shift in the reactor makes all of the silver threads stop moving entirely. “I will not be risking another fall into the Ravine myself… We will have to meet once you make it out and become a True Royal…”
He sighs and looks down at the sleeping elf in his arm. “I have a lot of work to do with this one before that happens. I must fulfill a promise of the past. Where we’re going, it appears we will have even more time to prepare.”
A white glow floods out from the still reactor.
The area around it for thousands of kilometers appears to become a white void.
An outsider looking in would only see dense tendrils of higher-quality ether than anything in this zone, shooting up into the air, and disappearing as though they’re shifting through the realm. It is identical to the holographic manifestations that appeared when Miriel would speak with the Royal Family heads.
Ember sends a final series of ether commands into the reactor, then releases his hand from it, holding Ren in both arms and closing his eyes with a calm expression.
Both of their bodies are covered in a white glow and disappear from the green zone entirely.
The only hint left behind, seen by no one, is at the very top of the ether tendril they stood beneath. It flickers with a dull purple glow at its highest point before the entire reactor starts to move again.
Its frozen silver threads begin to twist and swirl, and the burst of ether in the air all contracts back toward its center.
The bottom of the green zone is empty, without a single soul left behind.
–
A zone above, in a Cyan Palace, a Royal Demon walks down from his throne after many years of waiting.
The monstrous Demon in his base form stands over 2 kilometers tall.
The hundreds of High Noble guards that line his palace walls are protected by the unique arrays made of Celestial energy and Royal Vibrations, as if they were truly standing in his presence. Without the atmosphere suppressing his aura, they would all be torn to microscopic shreds and killed instantly.
None of them move, nor even think about turning a pupil in the direction of their Family Head. They have been ordered to stand and wait until spoken to, doing otherwise would be a severe breach in loyalty and would lead to certain death.
Lucian Morvale walks through his palace until he makes it to the end of the entrance hall.
He looks down a flight of Cyan stairs that stretches hundreds of millions of kilometers down into a white misty void.
Very potent clouds of Celestial Energy fill the air, and Cyan threads are tethered together to create this palace, held in place by its ruler’s vibrations.
The Family head stares off into the endless Cyan Zone, seeing the outlines of Cyan Towers over a billion kilometers away. It is where the Noble Demons and their Dragons live, those that ascended with him long ago, and a small few he has accepted as offerings afterward.
Lucian lifts a hand and manipulates strands of white energy that reach far throughout this zone, making sure his orders for preparations of the sealing are being followed.
He shows a light smile as progress is moving along smoothly, but it turns to a slight grimace shortly after as another system alert from the Lower Realm rings in his inner ear.
This has been happening for over a decade now, ever since the Realm Wave came through. All of his hidden armies and claimed planets in the Lower Realm have been losing battles unlike anything he’s seen before. It’s already hundreds of millions of worlds lost, and a large chunk of the Morvales’ private armies being systematically destroyed by an organized team of humans.
“It does not matter… All of these resources would have been lost in the sealing anyway. We have drained the Origin Plain dry of resources. They can fight over the scraps all they want.” He murmurs, then breathes in a dense breath of Celestial Energy in the atmosphere.
Once exhaling, the Royal Demon flicks a few strands of white threads, and his mental vision stares down through an enormous rift in space that is merged with this zone. It is as dark as this paradise is bright.
Lucian’s eyes scan the entirety of the Ravine in less than a second, mentally tracking all of the deaths and new Noble breakthroughs of 1st Class Demons throughout the pocket realm.
“Still no sign of them… It appears they really did perish only 2 years in. A shame, I was hoping for more of a show.”
Lucian smiles slightly wider, showing a few of his sharp white teeth when he sees one of his experiments looking up at the fluctuating rift in the sky with hatred in his eyes.
“Maybe I should have chosen you to guard the Green Zone after all. You took longer to bloom than Miriel, but you have become a fine Royal. I must admit I’m glad the Imperials’ seal is impossible to break. If anyone could best me in this era, it could have been you.”
The Cyan Cored Royal lets out a laugh as the Demon in the Ravine stares up with hatred.
The palace shakes, and the entire zone bends under his pressure. Many Nobles in the city over a billion kilometers away faint from the aura that the family head doesn’t bother to suppress.
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