Adrian’s doubts gnawed at him. The revelation about galactic concepts left him questioning everything about his own power.

He asked, voice steady, “Lord Sentinel… I never comprehended any galactic concepts. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Then how did this seed bloom inside me?”

The Sentinel regarded him with calm eyes. “You said the seed awakened when you touched the core stone,” he murmured. “That is answer enough.”

“Comprehension of galactic concepts is the truest path, yes, but it is not the only one. There are… other ways.”

His eyes narrowed. “Natural treasures.”

The chamber grew still.

The Sentinel lifted a finger. “Natural treasures. Stones, crystals, fragments that drift endlessly through the void.”

“As they travel, they bathe in concepts. Burning suns, collapsing stars, worlds unknown. Slowly, they change.”

“They become treasures that carry fragments of those galactic concepts within them. Anyone who consumes or fuses with such a treasure can bloom an essence seed.”

The S-ranks in the room stiffened, eyes widening.

“But,” Sentinel continued, “this is a path for those who lack comprehension. For those who cannot grasp concepts on their own.”

“It has downsides. You have an essence seed now, yes. You can cast skills in the void.”

“But your skills are still born of planetary concepts. If you face one whose essence was forged by true galactic comprehension… they will step on you as an ant.”

Adrian lowered his eyes, frowning. His fingers curled into fists.

So even his seed… might be flawed? The thought stung deeper than he expected.

Yet the Sentinel’s next words cut through the doubt. “Do not mistake me, child. What you carry is no weakness.”

“These treasures are common out there, used even by the strongest races. Even we Twelve… bloomed our seeds this way.”

Gasps broke around the chamber. Elara’s hand flew to her mouth.

“In the old war, we had no time to chase comprehension. We reached for survival.”

For the first time, the truth of the Guardian and the Celestial Eleven’s path was spoken aloud. The legendary figures had taken shortcuts too.

“I do not know where that Abyss Core came from,” Sentinel said grimly, “but it does not belong to Earth.”

Ironwood stepped forward. “You mean it came from space? From those civilizations?”

“Most likely.” The Sentinel’s expression darkened.

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Then his eyes turned back to Adrian. “Child, have you ever tried injecting mana into your seed?”

Adrian shook his head. “No. Even when I healed after the battle, I used liquefied mana, converting it myself.”

“I never touched the seed directly.”

“Then try now,” Sentinel said simply. “Even I want to see how your Echo looks as essence.”

The others still believed it was Echo. Even Sentinel accepted that explanation.

Everyone leaned forward.

Even the Sentinel himself looked intent, his eyes fixed on Adrian’s form.

Adrian nodded and closed his eyes. He willed his liquefied mana inward, toward the compressed seed inside him.

The seed throbbed once, like a second heart awakening. Then it drank greedily, pulling his mana in with ravenous hunger.

The transformation was immediate. His mana dissolved completely, restructured at a fundamental level.

Pure Source essence seeped out of his palm, white-grey and absolute. It was denser, purer, more terrifying than anything he had ever manifested.

This was more terrifying than the energy he had unleashed in his source form.

That form was activated purely with liquefied mana and affinity. At that time, he did not have this seed or essence. And now it’s different.

The Central Tower shuddered. Runes along its walls blazed defensively, ancient inscriptions flaring like dying stars. Outside, alarms screamed as the entire HQ quaked under the pressure.

Every defender in the complex felt it. Concepts themselves bent around Adrian’s presence. Affinities shrank back like frightened children before their origin.

Sentinel stiffened, his own seed throbbed inside him, as though it feared what stood before it. His eyes widened in raw disbelief.

“Impossible,” he whispered, voice cracking for the first time in millennia. “How could your essence stand above mine without a single galactic comprehension?”

Thomas stumbled backward, pressing his hand to his chest. His newly liquefied mana recoiled from Adrian’s presence. Elara gasped, her golden eyes reflecting terror and awe.

Ironwood dropped to one knee, his S-rank breakthrough feeling insignificant. Kael’s spatial mastery wavered, reality itself bending around Adrian’s unleashed essence.

Adrian pulled back the essence at once. The Tower’s groaning stopped, leaving only deafening silence. His voice was quiet, almost apologetic.

“I don’t know why it’s like this.”

The Sentinel exhaled slowly, each breath deliberate. But his gaze never left Adrian, studying him like a puzzle beyond comprehension.

“Even one who has mastered galactic truths would not bloom essence this strong at the start,” he said slowly. “Only years, decades of comprehension should forge such weight.”

He paused, the words heavy with implication.

“Child… you are an anomaly.”

The words struck like a verdict. Adrian felt the weight of being something outside natural law, something that shouldn’t exist.

“An anomaly this world needs,” Sentinel continued, his tone carrying rare approval. “Only such cracks in the rules give us hope against what comes.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. The truth only fanned his hunger for answers, for the power to protect everything he valued.

He lifted his gaze, determination burning in his eyes. “Lord Sentinel… then tell me. What are we truly surviving against?”

“What lies beyond Earth?”

The Sentinel’s expression shifted. His eyes sharpened to killing intent, his voice edged with hatred accumulated over millennia.

“Since you are strong enough now… You deserve to know.”

The air itself seemed to recoil from what came next.

“The enemy waiting for us beyond the stars… are demons.”

The word rang with pure hate. It carried the weight of endless war, of civilizations burned to ash. Of eleven heroes who would never return home.

The chamber froze.

The air trembled under Sentinel’s killing intent. Thomas, Elara, and Ironwood stiffened, their bodies screaming at the oppressive weight.

They were not ready. They had no seeds, no comprehension of Essence. Instinct told them to retreat, to flee this space meant for those qualified.

They had not earned the right to hear this truth.

But Sentinel raised his hand, stopping their retreat. “Stay. Do not run from what you must face.”

“You may be weak now, but your paths are tied to this child. If his destiny is to face what lies beyond, then so is yours.”

His voice carried the weight of prophecy.

“Know this truth, and let it forge you into something worthy of the stars.”

They froze mid-step. Then, despite every instinct screaming otherwise, they remained. For the first time, they would learn what humanity was truly fighting against.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep