CHAPTER 189: ATTACHMENTS [2]

Ethan then turned towards Ezekiel, his cosmic gaze settling on the weathered city lord who still clutched his damaged spear. "I promised you Gold rank, didn’t I?"

Ezekiel nodded his head, memory flooding back to their conversation from what felt like lifetimes ago. Before the Tower. Before the transcendence. When Ethan had been someone who made promises with warmth in his voice rather than cold certainty.

"You did, my lord," Ezekiel replied, his voice hoarse from the recent battle. "But I never expected—that is, I thought perhaps when you returned from the First Sanctuary..."

Without warning or ceremony, Ethan reached out and placed his palm against Ezekiel’s forehead. The contact was gentle, almost tender, but the power that flowed between them was anything but.

Ezekiel’s eyes rolled back as energy unlike anything he had ever experienced coursed through his body. His Silver-rank core, cultivated through decades of careful advancement, suddenly expanded beyond all recognition. The barriers between ranks—walls that typically required years of preparation and perfect conditions to breach—shattered like glass.

His muscles redefined themselves, bones became denser than steel, and his mana channels widened into rivers of pure power. The transformation was so rapid, so complete, that reality itself seemed to pause in acknowledgment.

When Ethan withdrew his hand, Ezekiel staggered backwards, his entire being humming with newfound strength. The damaged spear in his grip began to glow, its metal reshaping itself to better channel his dramatically enhanced abilities.

"I have given you the power of Platinum rank beings," Ethan stated matter-of-factly, as if he had just handed over a simple gift rather than ascending someone through multiple tiers of existence. "The rank above Gold. Far beyond what I initially promised. Even if you went to the first sanctuary, you would have never achieved such a power. Simply because you can’t."

Ezekiel’s jaw dropped as he examined his transformed body, feeling power that dwarfed his previous capabilities by orders of magnitude. His enhanced senses could now perceive layers of reality he had never even suspected existed. The world looked different—sharper, more detailed, alive with currents of energy.

"I know that you wanted to go to the First Sanctuary," Ethan continued, his tone remaining conversational despite the magnitude of what he had just accomplished. "But I closed that place. I destroyed it. There is no longer a Sanctuary—it’s a thing of the past."

The words carried finality that made the air itself feel heavy. Ezekiel’s dreams of ascending through the legendary trials, of proving himself worthy of the higher realms, had been rendered moot by the very person who had just granted him power beyond those dreams.

Ezekiel looked absolutely delighted, his weathered features lighting up with joy and disbelief. He immediately dropped to one knee, his new Platinum-rank strength making the gesture effortless despite his recent injuries.

"My lord, I cannot begin to express my gratitude," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You have given me more than I ever dared hope for. This power... this gift... I am forever in your debt."

He remained kneeling, overwhelmed by the transformation and the casual way Ethan had rewritten the fundamental limits of his existence.

"Thank you," Ezekiel repeated, his voice cracking. "Thank you for everything."

Hong Wei looked conflicted about everything happening, his eyes darting between the being his brother had become and the devastation surrounding them. Bodies littered the streets, smoke rose from burning buildings, and the cries of the wounded echoed through the air. Despite the overwhelming presence before him, his compassionate heart couldn’t ignore the suffering.

"Big brother," he said, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and desperation, "we need to deal with the aftermath. We need to help these people."

His words cut through the tension like a blade. Here was Ethan, wielding power that could reshape reality itself, and Hong Wei was asking him to tend to the wounded like any ordinary healer might. The innocence of the request, the pure humanity behind it, hung in the air between them.

Ethan’s gaze swept across the carnage once more—the broken families, the destroyed homes, the lives cut short by golden claws and vengeful fury. For a moment, something flickered in his cosmic eyes. Not quite emotion, but perhaps the memory of what emotion had once felt like.

"Return," he said simply.

The word carried the weight of absolute command, spoken not just to the immediate vicinity but to the very fabric of reality itself. The air shimmered, space folded, and time began to flow backward like a river suddenly changing course.

Everything around them began changing in ways that defied comprehension. The world started going back, unwinding the threads of causality with surgical precision. Buildings rose from their rubble, flames retreated into nothingness, and most impossibly of all—lives started coming back too.

Bodies that had been torn apart by golden claws reassembled themselves, flesh knitting together as if the wounds had never existed. Hearts that had stopped beating resumed their rhythm, lungs drew breath again, and consciousness returned to eyes that had gone dark.

Ethan and Ezekiel watched with shock as Ethan had breached multiple laws of reality with ease, casually undoing death itself as if it were merely an inconvenient mistake. Even Ezekiel, now possessing Platinum-rank power and enhanced perception, could barely comprehend what he was witnessing.

"This is impossible," Ezekiel whispered, his newly enhanced senses telling him that what he was seeing violated every principle of existence he had ever known. "Death... death is final. Irreversible. Even the greatest healers can’t—"

The resurrection wave spread outward from their position like ripples in a pond. Throughout the city, people who had fallen defending their homes suddenly gasped back to life. Children who had been crushed by debris opened their eyes in their mothers’ arms. Warriors who had died with weapons in hand found themselves standing again, confused but breathing.

"I... I’m alive?" stammered a merchant who remembered golden claws piercing his chest. He touched the spot where the wound had been, finding only unmarked skin beneath torn cloth. "How? I died... I remember dying..."