CHAPTER 416: THE SEEDS ARE READY...

The Labyrinth Grove pulsed with power so immense that, for a fleeting instant, the whole of Anbord quivered.

Yet no one noticed. The tremor passed like a whisper beneath their feet, dismissed as nothing more than a passing breeze. The empire remained alive and bustling under the afternoon sun, the hour striking 12:00, a time when the great cities were at their liveliest.

Merchants haggled with boisterous smiles, students hurried across magnetically levitating walkways, and sleek transport skiffs zipped through the sky lanes above. The Skyline Veins, glowing threads of blue-white energy, pulsed through the air like living rivers, connecting towering arcologies, markets, and hubs together.

But beneath that calm surface, everyone was talking about one thing.

The Emperor’s announcement.

The morning press conference had swept through the entire empire like wildfire. Screens suspended over floating plazas replayed it on loop. Media feeds were ablaze. Social spheres had ignited.

"Old Gassendi is where I got my power. The residents of the place are family, and they helped me. So, what do you say, we bring them back home?"

Those had been the exact words of the Emperor of Anbord, spoken with a calm, confident smile that carried the same kind of weight as an oath carved in stone. Everyone knew the Emperor was strong, legendary, untouchable, but bringing people from another world?

That was something only gods were said to do.

"You Majesty? How do you plan on bringing our brothers and sisters from another world here?" a young, visibly nervous host from VelRay Media House had asked.

Ethan had tilted his head, grin widening.

"What’s your name, bro?"

That single, casual "bro" had rippled through the room like a glitch in the imperial script.

"Revel Jr, sire!" the young man had practically screamed.

"No need to work yourself up, okay? Just chill and relax and leave everything to me. I will be personally handling everything. And, for confusions not to arise, I’ve sent a couple of images and videos to all the media houses on the races of Old Gassendi, so you don’t mistake them for beasts or monsters."

Gasps. Whispers. Fingers typing furiously on glowing holopads.

"There’s already a growing kingdom in Old Gassendi called the Will Clan, which I founded. It will become the next kingdom of Anbord."

Those words detonated like a shockwave across every network node in the empire.

Ethan had leaned forward, his silver eye gleaming faintly beneath the holo-lights of the chamber.

"If there aren’t any more questions, then I’ll be taking my leave. You might feel some pulses and vibrations. That would be me working, so don’t worry."

Then he’d turned back to Revel, who was nervously adjusting his spectacles.

"And, Revel, right?"

"Ye... yes, Sir!"

"Would you like to join the KDC(Knights of the Dawn Cross)?"

"Me?"

"Mm."

"I..."

"Just think about it and give me a call. You already have my contact details."

"Right... huh?"

"Hammer Lord, from Ascedia Rising. That’s me."

"No WAY!"

"Haha! See you later, Apocalypse!"

...

Which brought us to now.

High above the Labyrinth Grove, amidst a slowly spiraling constellation of glowing glyphs, Ethan Voryn Kael’Dri sat floating cross-legged in the air.

He wore a plain black hoodie with the sleeves lazily rolled up, silver hair catching the sunlight as his silver left eye burned with intricate geometric rings of light. In his right hand, because why not, he held a bucket of popcorn, occasionally tossing a piece into his mouth as if this entire reality-bending process was nothing more than light work.

All around him, mystical sigils and computational runes pulsed in harmony, woven together in an intricate matrix. Towering pylons surrounding the grove came alive with silent power, their surfaces flowing with streams of neon-blue light.

The Grove itself was like a living machine, a forgotten relic of the old world, now thrumming under Ethan’s command. The air was thick with quantum resonance, but stable. Controlled. His domain.

"Hmm... the seeds are ready..." Ethan murmured, his tone calm but edged with quiet satisfaction.

Above him, the sky shimmered faintly, reality itself beginning to flex and respond.

The world of Anbord might not have felt it yet...

But the door was already opening.

...

The Will Clan had developed a great deal after Ethan’s last visit. Their pilgrimages had also borne fruit, and they’ve gotten three more races onboard. First was the race of the Frost Spirits, the angels of the Beast Plane. The second race was a beastkin race called the Brelores. They weren’t exactly beastkin, but they could use certain traits of beasts they had a link to.

These beings were humanoid and could be taken for humans with the exception of their common dark golden eyes and the lifelike tattoos of beasts on their backs. They barely wore clothes, as it was in their very blood to display their life tattoos.

The third race was a race of Druids. Coincidentally, they were evolved forms of thermalions, Ethan’s first enemies in the Beast Plane and other tree species. And, they looked nothing like their tree forms. If one word could describe them, it was... beautiful.

They could easily pass for succubuses, and the strange part was that they were all female. Their appearances were those of known Amazonians, but much taller and with darker skin and dreadlocked hair.

Apart from that, the Will Clan stronghold had expanded from the Will Planes to Babel’s Hive, and their current settlement had also changed from caveman style to proto-city style, like in the Bronze Age.

Today, they were going about their usual stuff: pilgrimage to other regions to get more members, warrior trainings, council meetings, and others.

Specifically, the council meeting today was very lively. Why?

Their clan leader and master had contacted them the fifth time since his last visit, and his message was the source of their current happiness.

"Lord Ethan will be performing the plane-linking ritual, which would link us to our brethren in Anbord. Because of that, we must prepare. Call back the pilgrims, let everyone prepare," Queen Ashtoria commanded with a lively tone, unlike her usual cold and commanding tone.

"The seeds are ready... the Lord says!"