In the throne hall of the Empire of Lexaria, Archscribe Morvain Stood at the center of the grand chamber.

Before him sat the Empress of Lexaria.

He had served Lexaria for millennia, his mind second only to the Empress herself.

Yet in this moment, his face carried something rare.

Hesitation.

The Empress listened, her expression unreadable, as he finished recounting everything from the Origin Capital.

Holograms flickered across the vast hall, projections cast from nodes embedded in the floor.

Everyone in the chamber watched Adrian erase the entire Demon Fleet, watched the impossible formation that blanketed an entire star system like a sky.

Some Ministers moved forward, others gripped their seats.

Then the Archscribe spoke again, recounting the banquet.

How Adrian rejected the offer to trade the knowledge of his formation.

How he instead extended trade for Knowledge Spheres, and nothing more.

Hearing that, the ministers shifted uneasily.

A moment later, the silence broke.

Minister Veyth, the same elder who had spoken of the Astral Omen to the Empress, stepped forward. His voice came out with fury.

“Archscribe Morvain, how could you bow to that boy?”

Veyth’s face flushed with indignation, his hands clenched at his sides.

“After his refusal? Do you realize what message that sends to the galaxy?”

His voice rose, echoing through the chamber.

“You handed Lexaria’s dignity to a newly risen clan! Do you want others to think we kneel now? That we yield our supremacy?”

Morvain remained silent.

Veyth pressed further, stepping closer, “His strength is impressive, yes, but what of it? We have beings who wield three essences! Alliances with ancient cultivators who predate the empires in this galaxy!”

“We have stood for millennia! And you would trade with someone who could be crushed and dissected for his secrets?”

Several ministers nodded, murmuring agreement.

But the Empress raised a hand. The entire hall fell silent instantly.

“Enough, Veyth,” the Empress said softly.

He stepped back, bowing his head.

Her gaze turned to Morvain, “I have known you for millennia, Archscribe. You do not act without reason.”

She leaned forward slightly, “So tell me. Why?”

Morvain finally lifted his head, meeting her gaze directly.

“Your Majesty, my first instinct was the same as Minister Veyth’s.”

“To dismiss the Origin Clan as a curiosity. A spark, nothing more. To remind myself that Lexaria’s might has no equal.”

The ministers exchanged wary glances.

The Empress’s expression did not change, but her eyes sharpened.

“And yet you bowed,” she said. “What changed your mind?”

Morvain’s eyes glinted, reflecting the holographic light.

“A single thought, Your Majesty.”

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He straightened slightly, his voice steady.

“What if Adrian Blackwood… is the anomaly of the recent Astral Omen?”

The throne room froze. For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then a dozen ministers rose from their seats at once, exclaiming in disbelief.

“Impossible!”

“Blasphemy!”

“Not even a year has passed!”

“The anomaly should be SSS-rank at most!”

Their voices overlapped, chaotic, disbelieving.

Veyth barked out a harsh laugh, “You’ve gone senile, Morvain! Not even a year has passed since the omen!”

He gestured wildly toward the holograms.

“How could a newly born anomaly rise to Stellar, much less wield that kind of power?!”

Other ministers voiced agreement, their faces twisted with scorn.

But Morvain’s tone sharpened, “I did not wish to believe it either.”

“But set aside your logic for a moment and look at the pattern.”

He lifted his hand.

Dozens of holographic scenes unfolded around him, layers upon layers of recorded data.

Adrian’s journey, step by step, battle by battle.

“When Adrian registered into the Galactic Net, the timing matched the Astral Omen almost exactly.”

The ministers leaned forward despite themselves.

Morvain gestured, and the projection shifted.

“Look closer. In his first battle, he erased Veythar’s son, Darius. We assumed he was Stellar then.”

“But watch this.”

The projection shifted, showing Adrian fighting Tharion in the arena.

The clash of domains, fire and space colliding.

“See how he moved? His strikes lacked rhythm. He fought like one who had just stepped into the galaxy.”

Morvain’s voice grew quieter, more deliberate.

“He was nearly beaten to death, until he used that unknown essence and that strange form.”

He turned toward the ministers, his gaze sweeping across them.

“Tell me. How could a dual-essence wielder, one with both Space and that unidentified essence, struggle against a single-essence Stellar?”

Silence answered him.

“Does that make sense to you?”

The hall murmured, unease spreading.

Ministers glanced at one another, doubt creeping into their expressions.

“That was the first sign,” Morvain continued, “He fought like a newborn, yet carried comprehension beyond any newborn.”

“And within weeks, the same man who barely survived Tharion annihilated Veythar, a veteran of the frontlines who wielded dual-essence.”

“If he could kill Veythar, then logically, he could have done the same to Tharion easily.”

Morvain’s eyes gleamed.

“But why did Adrian struggle so much in the arena?”

The ministers frowned, confusion deepening.

“Didn’t that mean Adrian was truly just a novice in galactic battle and only his comprehension and that strange form made him equal to Tharion’s in the arena?”

Morvain paused, letting the question sink in.

“And within weeks, he grew strong enough to kill Veythar?”

Veyth’s frown deepened, the outrage on his face fading into uncertainty.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Morvain pressed on, “And it didn’t stop there. He created the Knowledge Spheres, and he built an entire Galactic Net in months.”

The holograms shifted again, showing the golden-white glow of the Origin Net.

“He discovered the Mind of the Formation, which we have sought for millennia.”

The projection displayed the system-wide formation, its runes indecipherable even to Lexaria’s brightest scholars.

“He learned, adapted, and surpassed every boundary at impossible speed.”

Morvain’s tone grew heavier, “Knowledge that took Lexaria millennia to collect, he reproduced in months. He created technologies we’ve theorized but never achieved.”

He gestured toward the final hologram.

Adrian standing in the void, his form blazing white-grey, erasing the Demon Fleet with a single word.

“And then… he erased an entire Demon Fleet.”

Morvain lowered his hand slowly.

The room fell utterly silent.

“Strength, comprehension, invention. Everything about him grows exponentially.”

He looked up at the Empress, his gaze unwavering.

“Your Majesty, that is not evolution. That is an anomaly.”

The weight of his words settled over the chamber like a shroud.

Ministers stood frozen, their faces pale.

Some gripped their armrests. Others stared at the holograms, disbelief warring with dawning realization.

Morvain bowed his head deeply.

“That is why I bowed, Your Majesty. That is why I traded.”

His voice dropped to a near whisper.

“Because I believe Adrian Blackwood is the anomaly of the Astral Omen. The being that the galaxy itself warned us of.”

For the first time, even the Empress was silent.

Her fingers curled slightly against her throne’s armrest, the only sign of her reaction.

What Morvain said had no way of confirming it, but what if, as he said, Adrian was merely SSS-rank, and grew so strong in days and weeks, becoming stellar?

The thought was absurd.

And yet…

The silence stretched…

Finally, she spoke, “What if you are right, Morvain?”

The Archscribe lifted his head slightly.

“If Adrian Blackwood truly is the Astral Omen’s anomaly…”

“Then he is a storm. And who can stand against a storm?”

The ministers shifted uneasily, some looked away, others stared at the floor.

She leaned back, her eyes closing briefly.

“We cannot know for certain. But the uncertainty alone demands caution. If we strike now, and he is what you say…”

She opened her eyes, “It will destroy us.”

Morvain bowed his head deeply, relief flickering across his features.

“Your Majesty, the Aethelian Empire already points its knives against him slowly.”

“If Adrian is the anomaly… something unimaginable will soon unfold within their borders.”

The Empress’s fingers drummed once against the armrest.

“We only need to wait and watch,” Morvain continued. “If Adrian was the anomaly, then his fate will reveal itself soon.”

The Empress studied him for a long moment.

Then she nodded slowly.

“So be it,” she said, “Lexaria will watch.”

“And when the truth reveals itself…”

Her eyes gleamed.

“We will decide whether to embrace the storm, or hide from it.”

The decision was made.

Lexaria would wait.

The ministers bowed as one, their voices silent, their minds churning.

The galaxy had shifted.

And Lexaria, for the first time in millennia, had chosen to step back.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep