Adrian rose before dawn. The stars above the Hub’s artificial sky were still dim, their faint glow casting long, quiet shadows across his chamber.

He stood by the glass wall for a moment. Below, the territory slept peacefully under his protection.

His mind was clear now. Sleep had cleared the fog of exhaustion, leaving only focus.

He made his way to the library. The corridors echoed with his footsteps, servants bowing as he passed.

The massive doors opened at his approach. Thousands of skill books and scrolls lined the walls, their spines glowing faintly with contained knowledge.

He set his goal plainly in his mind. “Comprehend everything here, fill every gap, then pass it on.”

Not for himself alone, but for his people. His mother, Selena, would need these truths as much as he did.

He activated the Temporal Veil, stretching his perception sixfold. The world around him slowed to a crawl.

He moved through the aisles. He pulled the first skill book free, the language of mana symbols rippling across its surface.

“Abyssal Flow,” a water-based galactic skill. The cover felt warm beneath his fingers.

It described how to bend fluid essence across multiple gravity lines, using orbital motion to turn water into both shield and blade. The runes pulsed faintly, echoing the flow of tides.

Adrian absorbed it instantly. The concepts flowed into his mind like water finding its level.

It was basic, yet elegant. A planetary concept elevated by precision.

Another skill book described “Earthen Pulse.” The leather binding cracked as he opened it.

It detailed how resonance within essence could solidify space, the groundwork of defensive formations. Each diagram built upon the last.

He passed through dozens more, each concept connecting to another like pieces of a grand puzzle he was slowly remembering rather than learning. His Source eyes devoured every symbol.

He absorbed lightning fundamentals, frost theory, even obscure affinities like metal resonance and plant growth. The knowledge settled into ordered layers within his mind.

Each concept revealed another truth of the galaxy’s structure, elemental harmony as language, each concept a dialect of the same universal tongue. The patterns became clearer with every page.

Adrian’s comprehension flowed faster and faster. Books that would take scholars years to master dissolved before him in minutes.

Rare concepts were not here as skill books. But he noticed some rune scrolls had some of these rare concepts.

Healing scrolls, gravity scrolls, their inscriptions were far more complex, layered over one another in micro-patterns invisible to normal eyes. The symbols seemed to shift and dance.

These weren’t meant to be read, these were just one time activation scrolls, which could be used by only specific affinity users. Their true purpose lay hidden beneath surface runes.

But Adrian’s Source eyes saw through them. He absorbed their patterns, their sequences, their logic.

The micro-inscriptions revealed themselves. Each layer held secrets that even master inscribers missed.

Adrian slowly comprehended everything inside the library. Hours passed unnoticed as knowledge flowed through him.

But this did nothing to increase his overall power. His Source seed was already filled with these concepts due to the Abyss core.

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So this just majorly served as filling his knowledge. Like organizing a vast collection that had always belonged to him.

By the time he closed the last book, his body hadn’t changed, but his mind was an ocean. The library’s silence felt profound around him.

He understood the depths of thousands of years of inscriber work, how each concept branched from the same universal root. Every technique was merely another expression of Source itself.

…

Meanwhile, throughout the Origin Clan, the others had already begun to move. The stillborn Drakenholt structure was being stripped apart and reforged under new hands.

Septimus and Selena took charge of the Inscriber Wings, establishing the archives, teaching runes, and managing the scattered inscribers still loyal to the clan.

Their voices echoed through the corridors as they sorted through centuries of accumulated knowledge.

Scrolls were sorted, categorized, and rewritten properly in the Language of Mana. Selena’s golden tattoos glowed as she corrected flawed inscriptions that had been passed down for generations.

“Half of these are wrong,” she muttered, crumpling a fire enhancement scroll. “No wonder their success rate was so low.”

Septimus nodded, adjusting his spectacles as he examined a spatial storage rune. “Drakenholt valued quantity over quality. We’ll change that.”

…

Draven and Kael assumed control of the military division, auditing the remaining armies. The training grounds buzzed with nervous energy as soldiers waited to learn their fate.

Draven’s voice thundered across the field. “You’re not slaves anymore, so fight like you choose it! Protect, don’t plunder!”

Kael followed beside him, recalibrating formations. He was strict but fair, and despite his youth, the soldiers obeyed him.

“Form up properly,” Kael commanded, his space affinity creating precise geometric patterns in the air. “Your lives depend on coordination, not just individual strength.”

The veterans watched with surprise as formation efficiency improved within hours. These weren’t the same brutal drills they remembered.

…

Lucian and Cassian formed the Intelligence and Observation Wing, mapping potential threats and neighboring clans’ movements. Their combined abilities created an information network that stretched across star systems.

Cassian’s murmured prophecies often dictated their next step before logic even caught up. His eyes would glaze over as visions flickered through his mind.

“The Emerald Serpent’s Patriarch will seek revenge soon,” he whispered, fingers tracing patterns on a star map. “We should be ready to face it.”

Lucian’s silent nod confirmed the intelligence.

…

Thomas remained in the Fire Simulation Chambers, training soldiers with the same affinity that once belonged to their oppressors. The chamber’s crimson glow painted his face as he demonstrated proper flame control.

Under his teaching, warriors learned that fire could protect, not just destroy. His patient instruction transformed their understanding of their own power.

“Fire isn’t rage,” Thomas explained to a young soldier struggling with control. “It’s life. It warms, it illuminates, it purifies.”

The soldier’s flames shifted from wild orange to steady blue. Others watched in amazement as their abilities stabilized under Thomas’s guidance.

…

Aurelia and Elara met with vassals and administrators, reading endless reports from the twenty-three star systems. The conference room’s holographic displays showed system after system marked in red.

The damage was staggering, empty mines, ruined trades, failing crops. Even with tribute gone, the systems barely survived.

…

That evening, in the Clan Hall, Varik stood before Adrian’s throne. Holographic displays shimmered above his tablet, showing red-lined graphs and crumbling financial data.

The hall’s obsidian walls reflected the glow of the displays, creating an atmosphere of stark reality. Adrian’s companions gathered in a semicircle, their faces grave.

“The vaults will last five years at best,” Varik said grimly. His voice echoed in the vast chamber.

“With the mercenary contracts gone, rival clans have claimed our former deals. The army’s cost alone could consume half the treasury.”

Septimus frowned, “Five years is generous. I’d say three if nothing changes.”

Aurelia crossed her arms, her expression troubled. “The problem runs deeper. Those twenty-three systems were stripped bare for centuries. Even if we demanded tribute again, they have nothing left to give.”

Draven slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair. The sound cracked through the hall.

“Then we fight again!”

“No.”

Adrian’s voice was calm but absolute.

Draven stopped instantly, his scarred face showing surprise at the finality in Adrian’s tone.

Adrian rose from his seat, stepping down the dais. His footsteps echoed against the polished floor as he moved toward them.

“We won’t survive by patching Drakenholt’s rot. That clan built its wealth on slavery and blood. If we walk the same path, we’ll die the same death.”

He looked at them, every one of them, from Aurelia to Varik. His eyes held absolute conviction.

“Origin will not sell lives for crystals. We will find another way. Something new, something the galaxy has never seen.”

A heavy silence followed. The holographic displays continued their silent dance of red numbers and declining graphs.

Varik broke it at last, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then, my lord… what will our new path be?”

Adrian’s hand clenched slightly, the faint glow of Source flickering around his fingers.

“The galaxy thinks strength is only in blood and fire. But true strength is in knowledge, in truths that can be taught, built, and spread.”

“The Origin Clan… We will be the forge of knowledge itself. A power no empire can steal, no vault can empty.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep