Chapter 850 - 851: Elixir Of Pseudo Immortality

Published Mar 17, 2026, 07:33 AM

Chapter 850: Chapter 851: Elixir Of Pseudo Immortality The space was white, endless, with pillars rising from a ground too far below to see. A solemn, holy atmosphere weighed heavily on the air, pressing down on all who entered and instilling an unspoken reverence. At the center of the countless pillars floated a sphere, encircled by golden rings. Within it, a luminous liquid churned slowly, spinning in measured cycles as if obeying an unseen will. A man walked into the white expanse. His heart was heavy, though his expression remained calm. A parasol rested in his hand, its handle adorned with a thin chain that jingled softly with each step. The sound echoed faintly, swallowed by the vastness. He stopped atop a pillar near the center of the chamber, not far from the floating sphere of gold. The Elixir of Pseudo Immortality. His gaze lingered on it. He had seen it before, though never without feeling a quiet dread. It was said the elixir had been refined by the god Aetherus himself, distilled from the blood of all the lesser gods. Those who drank it gained a form of pseudo immortality. But greed had followed its creation. Even the lesser gods had coveted it, and so it was entrusted to Seraph Null. It was ordered to be guarded here, alongside the blasphemous god Lazarak, who was imprisoned in the deepest layers of Eidolon, never to see the light of day. Half of the elixir had already been consumed by Aetherus. If the god lived, so too did the world. Any means to keep him alive were justified, even layering immortality upon an already timeless being. Yet were minor world gods truly immortal. Even planets died. Stars endured for billions of years, yet they too eventually faded. The elixir did not extend lifespan. It granted the state of being virtually unkillable. ’If so, then why is it called pseudo immortality.’ The answer was obvious. Even this creation of Aetherus, the god of life, was imperfect. The moment the thought surfaced, he stiffened. Blasphemy. His chest tightened as he shut his eyes and whispered a prayer for forgiveness. He was already wrong. He was already here to be punished. Yet he had still dared to think such thoughts. With a soft thud, he dropped to his knees upon the pillar. Before him sat the Apostles. Wardens like himself. Ones who should have been his equals. He should have been seated among them, elevated, respected. Instead, he knelt. "I stand before the Apostles, humbled by my failures," he said, voice steady despite the weight bearing down on him. "You have failed, Wind." The cold voice belonged to the Apostle of Fire. Flames licked along his form, restrained but ever present. "Your actions have insulted all Wardens and besmirched the great name of our lord and master, Seraph Null." He bit down on his lip. The Apostle of Fire had never liked him. This was his chance to tear him down. Still, he swallowed his anger. "I am ashamed." A wet sound echoed as water pooled and shifted. The Apostle of Water sneered, her form rippling. "You are ashamed. You should be. You left this place full of boasts about dealing with that Evangel, yet even with superior numbers and advantage, you were bested by an unknown nobody." The kneeling man lowered his head, shoulders tensing. That person was no nobody. Arrogant, powerful, and able to back it up. Worse still, he had a way of influencing others, bending them without force. Grains of sand trickled down the pillar where the Apostle of Earth stood. His voice was firm, unmoving. "Rumors of your loss are spreading. Our grip on the branded weakens. They now know hope. They see that we are flawed." The words struck deeper than any blade. He had no excuse. No justification. That man had slipped through his grasp. If only he had another chance, if only he had been given more time. "Enough." The chamber brightened as the Apostle of Light spoke. His form radiated white brilliance, composed entirely of living light. "Your actions leveled several districts. Thousands were killed, including chained knights we invested heavily in." The light pulsed, vibrating with restrained authority. "Times have changed. More and more powerful beings are being imprisoned in our world. Those deemed too dangerous are cast into Eidolon, but those left here still grow in number. Their combined strength now exceeds what our raw might can crush without effort." The Apostle of Darkness shifted beside him, his voice a low growl. "They are ants." "Those ants outnumber us a thousand to one." Water sloshed outward as the Apostle of Water spoke again, her tone unusually gentle. "We cannot allow doubt in our supremacy. If we do, we lose our way of life." The Apostle of Earth leaned back slightly, arms crossed. "And yet we still have the great god Seraph Null. With him behind us, their numbers mean nothing." Laughter echoed among the Apostles. All but one. The Apostle of Wind remained kneeling. "What if they have a god of their own." The laughter died instantly. "You already know," he continued quietly. "Lazarak is imprisoned here. And we have lost contact with the Arch Archivist." Silence followed. "No one can escape Eidolon," the Apostle of Fire said sharply. "It is impossible. Not even the sinful god Lazarak." The Apostle of Water hesitated, her form rippling. "We have already sent a scouting unit to investigate Eidolon. Though I doubt they will even be able to enter." "Then it is a pointless endeavor," the Apostle of Earth said flatly. The Apostle of Light glowed softly before speaking again. "There has been unusual movement within the city. Branded citizens are not merely dying. They are disappearing. Most notably within the Grinding Gate." "Hm. A new movement," said the Apostle of Chains, his body bound in clinking metal. "Defiance will be punished." "Send in the knights," he continued. "Cull their numbers." The others nodded in agreement, their expressions unchanging as they silently condemned millions to death. "For now," the Apostle of Light concluded, "the Archivist will continue investigating." Finally, their attention returned to the kneeling figure. "Now," the Apostle of Fire said, flames flaring slightly, "your punishment."

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