CHAPTER 959: WORLD HEART

They all watched as Vlad was devoured by the new eye upon his forehead—his body vanishing into the swirling darkness of that impossible organ. For a moment, there was only silence and a faint hum rippling through the void. Then, before anyone could react, the same eye manifested once more before them, opening in midair like a black sun.

Space itself unfurled outward, and Vlad reappeared in front of everyone, standing unharmed.

The eyes of every witness widened in shock and awe. Everybody stared as the True Depravita of Wrath smiled beneath that new cosmic gaze.

He had phased through the deadly radiation of the nebula effortlessly, as if the laws of matter no longer applied to him. His new eye had swallowed his body into some unseen dimension, allowing him to vanish and reappear without any spatial fluctuation or ripple of energy.

It was flawless—a teleportation beyond comprehension.

No distortion in the fabric of space. No disturbance in the cosmic Laws. It was silent, perfect, and impossible to trace. The effect was on par with Negative Teleportation, yet without the need for emotional resonance or external gateways. This Gift relied solely on the power of the True Depravita himself.

Vlad’s smile deepened as he studied his new Gift—Quantum Expanse. The sensation of existing both within and beyond space thrilled him. But he was no fool; even as he savored his newfound might, he could already sense its boundaries.

Powerful, yes. But not without cost.

During Quantum Expanse, he was literally rewriting the space surrounding his body, forcing the universe to treat him as a ghost between dimensions. Yet such manipulation came at a staggering price. Remaining motionless, he could maintain the state for perhaps a full minute. But once he began to move, resistance from the Law of Space would build rapidly, tearing at his essence. In battle, that meant he could only maintain it for a few seconds before the strain shattered the stability of his soul.

And when the process ended, his body and spirit required time to realign with the Laws of reality—a cooldown during which he would be vulnerable.

Then there was the Quantum Eye, the organ born from the Gift’s manifestation. Its capabilities were formidable but limited. At present, it granted him the ability to perform this silent teleportation, passing through barriers and dimensions as if they were mist. Yet it was slow—a technique of precision and stealth rather than speed or combat. In a prolonged battle, it would serve as a tactical tool, not a weapon.

Ultimately, Quantum Expanse was awe-inspiring, but it did not make him invincible. And perhaps most critically of all, he could only access it while fused with the other four True Depravitas.

Even so, the potential was enormous.

"It has room to grow," Vlad murmured, a faint grin on his lips. "If I refine it properly, this could be the weapon I need against the storms that are coming."

With that, he took a deep breath and released the fusion.

A collective wave of exhaustion washed over the fused souls as their essences separated. The immense strain they had borne together pressed down like a mountain upon their spirits, yet now that it was over, relief slowly took its place.

They turned their gaze toward the nebula—the once-blinding sphere of chaos and cosmic radiance that had birthed their transcendence.

Its energy was unraveling.

Slowly, gracefully, the nebula began to dissipate, its once-violent storms of power softening into gentle streams of starlight that flowed back into the fabric of the universe. It was like watching the death of a god: sorrowful, magnificent, inevitable.

Even amid the ruins of annihilation, there was beauty.

The universe was a cycle—death feeding life, destruction paving the path for rebirth. The nebula that had once belonged to the Zanis Homeworld was no exception. Though it had burned itself into oblivion, its energy would one day nourish new stars, new worlds, and perhaps even new civilizations.

In the eyes of the cosmos, a million years was only a heartbeat.

Three and a half days passed before the final wisps of the nebula’s energy faded completely. Yet what remained at its center silenced all present.

It was not emptiness.

Floating amidst the faint glow of cosmic dust was a small object—no larger than a clenched fist—but radiant beyond words. It pulsed gently, every beat exuding warmth, serenity, and divine harmony.

The soldiers and Lords alike stared, their expressions overtaken by wonder.

"A... World Heart?"

Altharion’s voice broke the silence, filled with awe and disbelief. Immediately, all eyes widened, and murmurs spread like wildfire.

A World Heart—a treasure beyond measure.

It was the very core of a world, containing the primordial essence that had once given birth to an entire planet and its natural Laws. Under normal circumstances, it could never be touched or extracted. It had no physical form, existing only as intertwined currents of cosmic energy deep within a planet’s core.

Only through the death of a world—a violent collapse of unimaginable proportions—could the immense compression of cosmic forces forge it into solid form.

The odds of such an occurrence were astronomically small. In truth, this was the first time anyone present, even the White Death himself, had witnessed such a phenomenon.

Altharion turned to his father, his face bright with joy. "Father, this will be a blessing beyond measure for the Empire—"

But he stopped.

Instead of triumph, the White Death’s expression was that of bitter resignation. His smile was crooked, tired—almost pained.

The Emperor of the Graecia Empire clenched his fist slowly, eyes twitching as he gazed upon the radiant sphere before sighing.

Everyone was confused, and the feeling only grew as the Archangel Overlord floated forward, his golden wings glimmering softly in the starlight. Without a word, he extended his hand toward the World Heart, and it drifted gently into his grasp. He turned toward the White Death and gave a subtle nod.

The onlookers whispered in disbelief.

Why would the Emperor of the Graecia Empire—who had every right to claim this treasure—simply hand it over?

The answer came from a time when the Zanis Homeworld was still in place.

During the negotiations that had sealed the alliance between the Graecia Empire and the Xaos Kingdom, Overlord had offered several major concessions—resources, artifacts, and divine armaments—in exchange for one clause: if a World Heart were ever to emerge from the death of the Zanis Homeworld, it would belong to Xaos.

At the time, the White Death had agreed easily. The probability of such an event was less than one in ten thousand. A fair deal, he had thought.

Now, watching Overlord cradle the glowing treasure, he felt as if he were swallowing molten iron.

Still, a deal was a deal.

The Emperor straightened his posture and nodded back to Overlord. He might have lost the World Heart, but not his dignity.

Yet deep inside, one thought lingered.

"Was this luck... or calculation?" The White Death could not help but ask himself.

Had Overlord predicted this? Was the A.I. Chip Clone’s computational foresight truly so vast that it could foresee even this outcome?

No answer came.

The Archangel remained silent, his face expressionless.

The White Death finally raised his hand, signaling the end of the campaign. The surviving forces of the Graecia Empire and Xaos Kingdom began to withdraw, their ships and war platforms turning back toward the White Blade, their colossal flagship.

It was time to return home.