They had to use multiple nexus gates, without that, it’s not possible to reach their destination within hours.

Each transition flared like a burst of light across the viewport, folding space again and again.

Varik monitored the route in silence, his hands steady on the console.

The ship shimmered as it exited the final Nexus Gate.

Before them, the Aethelian Imperial Capital System unfolded, not a planet, but an entire star system built as a capital.

The viewport tinted automatically, adjusting for the sheer brilliance of the light ahead.

At the center of it all burned a colossal star, brighter than any sun Adrian had ever seen.

Around it, thousands of orbital formations spiraled in perfect geometric rings, each glowing with runes visible even from this distance.

From those radiant bands extended threads of energy, connecting to dozens of habitable worlds, artificial moons, and floating space stations.

It was like architecture on the scale of gods.

Varik gripped the edge of the console, his mouth parting slightly.

“I’ve seen the pictures of it, but seeing it… this is beyond anything.”

He shook his head, unable to find words.

Even the mighty Drakenholt Clan, at their peak, had only ruled twenty-three star systems. That alone had once made them a power worth fearing.

But what stretched before them now made that legacy look like a candle before a star.

Adrian said nothing.

His gaze swept across the system, across the dozens of habitable worlds orbiting the central star, each glowing with cities, and the chains of space stations strung between them like bridges of light.

The smallest of these worlds, Adrian realized, held more people than the entire Solvaris Hub combined.

The population of the imperial system wasn’t in billions.

It was in hundreds of billions, all bound under the single banner of Aethelia.

Adrian’s voice was low. “So this is the weight of an imperial clan.”

Not just the imperial clan, most of the top clans were like this.

Adrian had seen the records from the galactic net, the top clans did not live in the hub, just the number of clan members in one of the top clans would exceed the population of the hub.

The top clans were just that big.

Unlike Adrian’s 23 star systems, a top clan might control 200–500 star systems, with billions under their banners.

So they create their own capital and live there.

And the one in front of him was the capital of the imperial clan.

Compared to them, even the twenty-three star systems of the Origin Clan were a spark beside a sun.

Varik exhaled slowly. “My lord, we’re receiving a navigation corridor.”

The ship’s AI chimed softly, displaying the authorized route.

Their ship followed a designated corridor of light, guided by AI-controlled fleets to the Throne World, Aethelia Prime.

Hundreds of vessels moved in perfect coordination along the glowing paths, massive cargo haulers, diplomatic ships, military cruisers bristling with formations.

As they approached the throne world, Adrian saw thousands of defense formations layered to guard every planet.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Each layer pulsed with distinct energy signatures, overlapping in patterns so complex they would take lifetimes to unravel.

The closer they drew, the more his Source Eyes picked out details, and what he saw made his expression tighten.

Every transport hub, every space station, every defense formation pulsed with inscriptions and Lexarian seals.

The distinctive flowing script glowed faintly across structure after structure, binding the entire system together.

Even here, at the very heart of the Aethelian Empire, the signature of Lexaria still bound their systems together.

Varik noticed Adrian’s focused gaze. “The Lexarian monopoly runs deep.”

“Deeper than I thought.” Adrian’s jaw tightened slightly.

His thoughts turned quietly. “The Knowledge Spheres opened one crack in their wall… but the wall still stands.”

The ship descended toward Aethelia Prime, the throne world growing larger in the viewport.

As they entered the atmosphere, the scale of Aethelia Prime came into view.

Cities stretched for thousands of kilometers, glowing like living constellations across the continents. Floating platforms rose above the clouds, each crowned with crystal towers that pierced the sky.

The ship descended through layers of defense formations, each one pulsing with inscriptions that made the air shimmer.

And at the heart of it all stood the Imperial Palace, a fortress so vast that it could be seen from orbit, its surface carved with runes the size of mountain ranges.

Adrian’s Source Eyes traced the patterns, recognizing fragments of concepts he’d studied, gravity anchors, spatial locks, temporal wards, all woven together in configurations that would take centuries to decode.

Dozens of floating stations circled it like moons, connected by shimmering energy bridges. Entire fleets hovered above its skies, their hulls glowing with royal crests.

Varik exhaled shakily. “Even a single section of this… would take a lifetime to build.”

His hands trembled slightly against the console.

The scout vessel touched down on a designated platform, one of hundreds extending from the palace’s outer ring.

As they landed on the designated platform, a line of armored guards awaited them, silent, motionless, each exuding the steady pressure of SSS-rank or higher.

Their armor wasn’t decorative, every plate bore active runes, overlapping shields that flickered like heat waves.

Adrian stepped off the ship, Varik a pace behind him.

An Imperial Court Official in shimmering blue robes approached and bowed gracefully. His tone was respectful but measured, every word carefully chosen.

“Lord Adrian of the Origin Clan. His Majesty the Emperor welcomes your arrival. The Grand Banquet will be held tomorrow at dusk, where you will be granted audience.”

He straightened slightly. “Until then, quarters have been prepared for you within the palace. You are, of course, free to move within your quarters.”

The subtle emphasis on within wasn’t lost on Adrian.

Adrian inclined his head. “Understood. Lead the way.”

They were escorted through winding corridors, hallways wide enough for ships to pass through.

Every wall glowed faintly with inscriptions. Massive murals depicted Aethelia’s long history, war against demons, the founding of the Empire, and the forging of alliances that had shaped galactic civilization.

Adrian’s gaze lingered on one scene, a lone figure standing before a tide of darkness, their hand raised as light consumed the void.

Golden statues of past emperors lined the way, their eyes set with crystals that radiated essence.

Each statue stood three times the height of a man, carved from materials that pulsed with faint life.

It was a place built to remind every visitor that you stand in the presence of eternity.

Varik’s breathing had grown shallow. His eyes darted from one wonder to the next, unable to settle.

Finally, they reached their quarters.

The doors parted without sound, revealing a space that stole Varik’s breath entirely.

The suite was larger than the entire Origin Clan’s main hall. Entire gardens bloomed under artificial sunlight. Fountains shimmered with mana-infused water.

Trees grew from soil beds inscribed with growth formations, their leaves glowing softly.

Every room hummed with soft runic energy.

The court official bowed once more. “If you require anything, the palace systems are at your command.”

His gaze lingered on Adrian for just a moment, curiosity flickering behind his controlled expression.

When he departed, silence filled the space.

Adrian walked through the suite, he passed through chambers meant for servants, for advisors, for entire delegations, all empty save for him and Varik.

Adrian stepped onto the balcony. The city stretched below, a living ocean of light, starships gliding between towers that pierced the clouds.

The wind carried no scent, everything was filtered, controlled, perfected.

Varik stood beside him, still lost in awe.

Adrian said nothing. His reflection shimmered faintly against the glass, the young man who had once stood in a small rune hall on Earth, now looking down upon the heart of the galaxy.

Somewhere below, billions lived their lives beneath the Empire’s shadow, never knowing the weight of the formations that kept them safe, or the chains that bound them.

Adrian’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “This is what the Imperial Clan and the top clans enjoy. To them, we’re not rivals. We’re not even visible yet.”

He turned slightly toward Varik, whose expression had shifted from wonder to something quieter.

“But they’ve begun to look in our direction.”

Varik swallowed. “The Knowledge Spheres?”

“The crack in their foundation.” Adrian’s voice was calm.

The Origin Clan had risen fast, too fast.

One duel, one revolutionary technique, it had drawn eyes from across the galaxy.

But here, standing beneath the weight of millennia, he understood something vital.

Compared to this, his clan was still a single drop in an endless ocean.

The Empire had built this over millennia. Every stone, every formation, every alliance, forged through blood and time.

And yet…

A drop could ripple.

A crack could grow.

He closed his eyes, the faint glow of the Source rippling behind them.

His essence stirred, responding to his will, formless, infinite, the origin beneath all concepts.

Through those cracks, Origin would rise.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep