The chamber was still thick with tension.

Aurelia finally broke the silence, her tone brisk. “Enough. Staring won’t change him. Septimus, take them to the Middle Ring. Let them see the life of the galaxy for themselves. You know its streets better than I do.”

Septimus inclined his head, staff clicking softly against the floor. “As you wish. Draven, with me.”

The broad-shouldered warrior grunted, cracking his neck. “Hnh. Babysitting duty. Fine.”

They left Aurelia and others behind and stepped into Solvaris’ bustling corridors. Septimus walked at the front, posture straight, his voice carrying the weight of a tutor addressing young disciples.

“The Outer Ring, where we stand now, is nothing but docks and residences.”

He gestured ahead. “But the Middle Ring, that is where the hub’s heart beats.”

Draven snorted. “Heart? More like stomach. It eats crystals and spits out debt.”

As they descended into the Middle Ring, the change was immediate. The cramped corridors gave way to polished stone walkways that stretched wide enough for a dozen people.

The streets widened, clean stones inlaid with glowing runes. Tall rune lamps lined the way, casting steady golden light that made Selena’s eyes water with the complexity of their inscriptions.

Above, floating walkways crisscrossed the air, banners rippling with soft radiance. Each bore the sigil of Lexaria, interlocked arcs glowing like starlight.

“This is Lexaria’s mark,” Septimus explained, raising his staff toward the banners. “The Lexarian Empire is the only neutral empire, so you can find it everywhere.”

His fingers traced patterns in the air. “Their reach stretches across other empires, across clans. Here, they run the auctions, the stores, the knowledge markets.”

Thomas muttered, “Feels like we’ve stepped into a city written in runes.”

Draven grinned. “That’s because you have.”

Adrian let his Source Eyes linger on the carvings lining the stone bridges and archways. The runes, etched on those, whispered their meanings into his mind as the Source translated them effortlessly.

He caught glimpses of elemental flows, inscriptions for stabilizing bridges, even patterns of defensive wards hidden in lamp posts.

Yet as he absorbed them, something strange occurred. Unlike the space concepts in the Nexus, these didn’t stir his seed at all. No pulse, no growth, only understanding.

“Why?”

He slowed his pace, realization dawning. The Abyss Core. Natural treasures weren’t just raw power, they were saturated with concepts. His seed had bloomed with it, already carrying every fundamental woven into these stones.

That was why he could tear through SSS-rank warriors without even touching higher comprehension. His foundation wasn’t “empty” like theirs, it had been flooded, preloaded with truths he hadn’t earned.

A hollow edge. An upstart’s strength.

But if he wanted to grow beyond that? He couldn’t rely on what the Core had given. Only advanced concepts, the kind hidden in advanced skill books, storms, stars, and the void itself, could push him forward now.

He closed his eyes briefly, suppressing a thrill.

They turned down a broad avenue with rows of shops. Glass displays projected holographic advertisements in the language of mana.

One glowed with shelves of skill books, titles projected in hovering holograms. Another hawked rune scrolls, categorized by affinity in neat, glowing sections.

Others displayed shimmering rune cloths, weapons whose edges burned faintly, and even quills, papers, and satchels etched with inscriptions.

“Skill books, rune scrolls, rune cloths, weapons, even runic ink and brushes,” Septimus explained. “Everything a cultivator needs, if you’ve got the crystals.”

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Elara paused at a weapon display, watching a blade that seemed to cut through air itself. “The craftsmanship here…”

Draven jerked his chin at a line of mercenaries outside a building. “And there, contracts. Sell your blade, spill some blood, earn a handful of crystals.”

His scarred face split into a grim smile. “If you live.”

Resource halls shimmered with raw ores and natural treasures behind protective barriers. Nearby, entire bays sold transports and logistics contracts to groups of alien traders.

They walked further. Selena lingered at rune shops, comparing theories advertised on glowing banners with what she’d learned from Adrian.

Adrian paused at every inscription store, his Source Eyes aching to see the runes themselves. But the displays showed only descriptions and names, the actual inscriptions locked away.

A being with translucent skin drifted past them, its veins glowing faintly as though stars pulsed beneath. It hissed in a tongue no human ear could follow, but the Node translated, “Fresh contracts, mercenary slots open.”

Then Kael stopped dead at a resource stall. A crystalline shard floated in a case, deep blue, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

His fingers curled unconsciously. The space essence within the shard called to his affinity like a siren’s song.

“Void Crystal,” Septimus explained, voice calm. “Space essence in solid form, enough of these, and a ship can travel the void for decades.”

“One of the rarest fuels in existence.”

Kael’s throat tightened. “How much?”

“A lifetime,” Septimus said simply.

Draven barked a laugh. “Don’t drool too hard, Space boy. Even if you sold yourself ten times over, you wouldn’t afford a splinter of that.”

“That single void crystal is priced for a million mana crystals. Even I earn only a few hundred crystals a month.”

Kael’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. His gaze lingered on the shard, memorizing every facet of its impossible beauty.

Thomas frowned, studying the bustling market around them. “Then how does anyone buy anything? How do you earn mana crystals?”

“Many ways,” Septimus said, tapping his staff against the polished stone. “You may inscribe and sell scrolls. You may gather treasures, if you’re lucky.”

He gestured at a towering marble hall marked with a clan’s crest, “Or… join a clan. That’s the simplest answer.”

“Mercenary clans, transport clans, Lexaria’s inscriber clans. You join, you serve, you earn.”

He pointed with his staff toward a towering building where sleek ships were docked, “There, a transport clan. They recruit those who can build, maintain, or pilot ships.”

Then to a fortress-like structure marked with crossed weapons, where armored figures sparred in the courtyard. “That one, mercenary clan. The entry requirement is strength enough to bleed for them.”

His tone hardened, “But understand this, clans aren’t employers, they’re chains.”

“Once you sign yourself into one, leaving requires a fortune. Some clans turn failure into slavery.” Septimus’s knuckles whitened around his staff.

“Every clan demands something from you.” He sighed, gaze distant as memories flickered across his features.

“That is why we never joined. Better hunger than chains.”

Kael’s brow furrowed as he watched a group of young warriors entering the mercenary hall, their faces bright with hope. “Then how do you survive? If not by clans… how did you earn?”

Septimus’ staff tapped once more against the ground, the sound echoing off nearby walls. “The other way. The frontlines.”

“Fight the demons. Contribution there earns crystals directly from the empires.” His voice carried both pride and weariness.

“Risky, yes. But no collars.”

“That is why six of our brothers are not here.”

The group fell silent, the weight of realization settling over them. The bustling market sounds seemed muted now.

Draven muttered, his scarred face grim. “And bleed for every crystal they earn. Don’t think the empires are generous.”

“But it’s where I prefer it.” He cracked his knuckles with deliberate menace. “At least demons don’t stab you in the back with contracts.”

Finally, Septimus brought them to a towering hall glowing with runes, its crystal spires reaching toward the station’s ceiling. “This is Lexaria’s grand store, directly managed by Lexaria’s imperial clan. This is where you find the most complete skill books, scrolls, and devices.”

“Here, even Stellar beings come to trade.” The reverence in his voice was unmistakable.

Inside, Adrian found only floating holograms with names and descriptions shimmering in mid-air. “Spatial Displacement – 85,000 Crystals.”“Lifewoven Healing Sigil – 120,000 Crystals.”

He thought that with his Source Eyes, he could quickly comprehend these runes without purchasing them. The same window shopping method he’d used back on Earth.

But what he saw was entirely different. Empty displays with price tags but no actual inscriptions.

“Where are the runes?” Adrian asked, frowning at the deceptive holograms.

Septimus shook his head, “They never show them. If you want to see a single symbol, you pay.”

“Once, people took pictures and tried to replicate what they saw. Lexaria closed that loophole millennia ago.”

Adrian felt the sting in his chest. His Source Eyes were useless here if he couldn’t even see the actual runes in the scrolls.

And the prices, tens of thousands of crystals for simple scrolls. Hundreds of thousands for advanced works.

Selena glanced at one listing, her face pale with shock. “Ten thousand crystals… for a single scroll?”

Her voice trembled as the memory of Draven’s words hit her. A few hundred a month, even for him. Then ten thousand for one scroll meant decades of saving.

Septimus’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “That’s normal. Here, knowledge is hoarded. Shared only for a price.”

“This is why clans thrive. Alone, an individual can buy a trickle.” He gestured at the vast displays around them.

“A clan can purchase rivers.”

Selena exhaled sharply, her tattoos seeming to dim in the harsh light. “No wonder clans hold all power. Who else can afford this?”

Draven growled, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Welcome to the galaxy. Here, crystals and clan decide who breathes.”

Adrian’s fists clenched at his sides. Without joining a clan, even the greatest warriors starved in the galaxy.

And if survival itself demanded so much… then what would it take to form a clan of their own?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep