The void stretched in endless stillness. From where Azrael hovered, wings folded close, he saw something that made even a being of his age pause in silence.

Dozens of planets, moons, and suns moved in harmonious orbits across the Origin Capital System, perfectly aligned across the velvet sea of space.

And at the very center, what had once been a barren sphere of stone now pulsed with life.

The Origin Construct.

Fleets of starships drifted around it, cranes made of condensed runes lifted entire towers into place.

It wasn’t just a construction site. It was the birth of a civilization.

Azrael, who had seen clans rise and burn through millennia, could not help the faint flicker of surprise that crossed his face.

When he first agreed to move his world, he had imagined some crude attempt at consolidation. Another petty lord’s dream of power, trying to replicate the top clans’ capital system.

But now, this was happening for real.

“He did it,” Azrael thought, his wings shifting slightly. “He actually built this.”

He had been entirely disconnected from the galaxy, isolated on his mist-veiled world. He did not know of the Origin Clan or about Adrian beyond their brief encounter.

So this was a surprise to him.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned his own world’s new orbit. The positioning was precise, a steady flow of sunlight, balanced moon shadows, no interference from nearby gravitational paths.

The work was careful, deliberate. Not the rushed placement of someone grasping for power.

He turned to Adrian, who hovered a short distance away, watching the system spin with quiet focus.

“You’ve placed it well,” Azrael said finally, his deep voice carrying a hint of reluctant respect.

“My people will endure here.”

Adrian inclined his head, expression unchanged. “That’s the goal.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, two Stellars adrift in the vast emptiness, watching a newborn star system spin into order.

Azrael’s gaze lingered on him, measuring. This young Stellar possessed something different, not arrogance, not the hunger for dominion that marked so many who reached their stage.

Something quieter. Something that reminded him of warriors who built civilizations rather than razed them.

“I will watch what you build, Adrian.” He turned, wings spreading wide. “For now… I return to my world.”

His form dissolved into dark light, vanishing toward the planet below.

Adrian watched him go, the void settling into stillness once more. Then he turned toward the center, toward the Origin Construct, and blinked.

…

The once-barren world now shone with life and light.

As he descended, he saw fleets crossing its orbit, cargo ships unloading resources from the other worlds. Construction formations solidified foundations within seconds.

Cities were growing from nothing.

Aurelia’s fleet hovered above the upper atmosphere, maintaining defensive spacelanes while supervising planetary rotation adjustments.

He landed atop a vast tower made of shimmering light-metal, the unfinished skeleton of what would soon be the Origin Clan Hall.

From there, he could see everything.

Below, Varik stood on a command platform, surrounded by flickering holo-displays, his hands moving swiftly as he adjusted incoming reports. Administrators rushed past, carrying data tablets and shouting orders.

The sound of construction echoed across the horizon, metal striking metal, formations humming with power, the deep rumble of earth being shaped.

Varik looked up as Adrian approached, relief flashing across his face.

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“My lord, you return at last.”

Adrian walked beside him, gaze drifting across the holo-map of the Origin Capital System. Seventy planets now orbited in synchronized patterns, each one glowing faintly on the display.

He had brought in all the Emerald Serpent Clan’s worlds, cleansed them of corruption, and arranged them with care. With that, the count increased to seventy.

And to do all this, Adrian had taken more than a month. Many things had happened with the Origin Clan during his absence.

“Report. What’s the situation?”

Varik gestured to the screens, data streams flickering with progress reports. Production numbers, revenue figures, construction timelines all flowing past in organized chaos.

“Even with the limited people we could get into the hub, the Knowledge Sphere production went steadily.”

He tapped a display, bringing up sales figures that climbed into the billions. “The demands are still high, but we tried to meet a decent production number. Even with this, our revenue already measures in billions.”

Adrian’s eyes tracked the numbers, noting the exponential growth. In just over a month, they had gone from a struggling clan to one of the wealthiest clans in the galaxy.

“And as you were busy moving planets, we already started the work on the capital system side by side, my lord.”

Varik expanded the holo-map, showing the Origin Construct in detail. Sections of the planet glowed green, indicating completed zones. Others pulsed amber for ongoing work.

“We started building essential quarters, production factories, and structures in the Origin Construct.”

He zoomed in on a cluster of towers near the equator. “The residential districts are taking shape. We’ve housed nearly two million workers already, with capacity for ten times that within the year.”

“But proper cities would still take years.”

Adrian looked toward the horizon, where rows of half-built towers reached toward the clouds.

Tiny figures moved across the structures, workers infused with essence, capable of feats that would have been impossible back on Earth.

Varik continued, “Temporary embassy halls have been raised for visiting envoys. The Duranthian and Volkrith representatives have already requested long-term space, but the current structures won’t suffice.”

He smiled faintly, a glimmer of satisfaction crossing his features. “They seem eager to make themselves comfortable here, my lord.”

Adrian’s lips twitched. “Of course they are. Everyone wants to be the first to tie themselves to something new.”

Binding themselves early meant better terms, better access, better positioning when the Origin Clan’s influence inevitably grew.

“Also, works for barracks and void hangars for soldiers are going on.”

Varik pulled up another section of the map, showing massive crescent-shaped structures anchored to the planet’s upper atmosphere. “The hangars can already accommodate mid-sized fleets. Within three months, we’ll be able to house larger ships.”

He paused, eyes flicking up. “The spacelanes are also being built, my lord. When we open the capital to the public, we should maintain all the incoming fleets properly.”

The spacelanes would control traffic flow, prevent collisions, and ensure that no hostile force could approach without detection. Essential infrastructure for any capital system.

“If all goes well, in another month, the key structures will stabilize. But for a true capital, for something on the scale of the great clans, it will take years, my lord. Years of building, fortifying, etching defenses, establishing economies.”

Adrian nodded, understanding the weight of what they were building. This wasn’t just a base of operations. It was meant to endure millennia.

Varik hesitated before adding, “Word has spread across the galaxy. Everyone knows we’re building a capital now. Clans, traders, mercenaries, they’re all waiting for us to open the capital.”

Some would come with opportunity. Others for causing trouble.

Adrian nodded slowly, scanning the galaxy map. The star system ring glowed faintly, light rippling across the perfect alignment of seventy worlds.

Planets filled with people who had suffered under the Drakenholt and Emerald Serpent regimes. People who were now free, who were building something new.

“You’ve done well, Varik.”

Varik hesitated again, “There’s one concern that haunts me still.”

Adrian turned toward him, the construction noise fading into background hum.

“Defense,” Varik said simply.

He gestured toward the void beyond the atmosphere, where seventy worlds spun in perfect harmony. Vulnerable. Exposed.

“A capital this size, built beyond the galactic routes… it will attract demons.”

His jaw tightened, the words coming slower now.

“Without layered formations, without barriers, the Origin Capital System is a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked.”

Adrian remained silent, listening.

Varik grimaced, clearly uncomfortable with what came next. “Normally, clans hire Lexarian experts for the major inscriptions like this. But we… well, you know.”

Adrian’s eyes faintly glowed, the white-grey light barely visible in the sun’s radiance. “Yes. We broke one of their monopolies.”

The Knowledge Spheres had shattered Lexaria’s stranglehold on galactic education. They wouldn’t forget that insult easily.

Varik nodded reluctantly, “So, unless we crawl to them…”

He trailed off, leaving the implication hanging.

Small-level formations could be done by anyone with sufficient skill. Weapon enchantments, personal barriers, storage arrays, those were common enough.

But planetary formations? Especially ones designed for defense against Stellar-stage threats and demon invasions?

Only Lexarian experts handled those. The Lexarian empire had spent millennia monopolizing that knowledge, hoarding the techniques, ensuring dependence.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then Adrian said, “Leave that to me.”

Varik blinked, confusion flickering across his features. “My lord?”

Adrian looked up toward the sky, where the aligned worlds shimmered faintly like scattered gems across black velvet.

“I’ll take care of it.”

Varik frowned, stepping closer. “But we have no inscriber capable of etching planetary-scale formations.”

None of their recruited talent had that level of mastery. Septimus and Selena were skilled, exceptional even, but planetary defense required knowledge that took centuries to acquire.

Adrian turned to him, “You will see soon.”

He began to walk, his figure bathed in the glow of distant suns as he moved toward the tower’s edge.

Varik watched him go, questions forming and dying on his lips.

The galaxy knew Adrian Blackwood as the slayer of Tharion and Veythar, the wielder of the unidentified essence, the Patriarch of the Origin Clan who had risen from obscurity to shake empires.

What they did not yet know was that he was also an Inscriber.

And one who had already broken the very logic of inscription itself.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep