CHAPTER 274: Caution & Undercurrents
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The Orpheus Clan Elder clung to the Origin Glaive with all his strength. His knuckles turned pale as he glared at the intruder.
His voice, thick with desperation, rang out into the air. "Clan Head, this mortal has tried to steal our Guardian Weapon. Capture him and deliver the punishment he deserves!"
The space around them shifted, growing dense with a crushing power as the Clan Head arrived. His presence was overwhelming, his towering form radiating authority and strength.
Without saying a word, he extended his hand, and from it, an ethereal arm of silver energy materialized, flowing with the same power Jay had witnessed and experienced firsthand on multiple occasions, the Origin Energy.
With a simple, effortless wave of his hand, the ethereal form wrapped itself around the Origin Glaive. What had been an intense struggle for the Clan Elder moments before had became a matter of ease for the Clan Head.
The weapon, though still resisting slightly, calmed under his control, as if it recognised the direct descendant of it's previous owner.
For Jay, terror gripped him in an instant. The moment the Clan Head arrived, his body froze, paralyzed by a fear so overwhelming he could hardly breathe.
He stood as vast as his predecessor during his training session on the hypergaint star—when he stood tens of thousands of kilometers tall, a colossus radiating the full weight of his power. Every breath Jay took felt like a struggle, as if the air itself was too thick under the pressure of the Clan Head’s gaze.
Ozias’s eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned Jay from head to toe. The intensity of his stare made Jay feel as if his very existence was being measured, scrutinized in ways beyond comprehension. After a moment of silence, a flicker of surprise passed across Ozias’s otherwise impassive face.
"How is it," Ozias said, his deep voice vibrating and distorting the very space itself, "that a pure-blood of our Orpheus lineage is in a Universe that hasn’t even completed its assimilation?"
The Clan Elder looked at Jay with a puzzled expression, his brows furrowing as the weight of the revelation settled in. The revelation had clearly unsettled him, yet he wasted no time in addressing the towering figure beside him.
"Clan Head, a century ago, there was an anomaly detected near the Founding Ancestor’s Eternal God Body. I immediately ordered the royal guards to investigate, but they found nothing out of the ordinary—no signs of an intruder, no damage, no lingering energy signatures."
He paused, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "Except..." His voice trailed off, a shadow of unease crossing his face.
The Clan Head, Ozias, fixed him with a hard stare. His voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the tension. "What is it? Speak."
Reluctantly, the Clan Elder continued, "The remains of a pure-blood who died at birth... vanished. During the breach, the body disappeared without a trace. We scoured every possible lead, investigated every potential angle, but there was nothing. It was as if the remains had never existed." His voice lowered, tinged with both frustration and unease, the mystery of the event clearly lingering in his mind.
Ozias, the Clan Head, stood still, deep in thought. His sharp features grew darker as he considered the implications of the Clan Elder's words
Ozias, the Clan Head, stood silent, his eyes narrowing in thought. His face, though unreadable to most, bore a hint of disturbance as he considered the implications of the Clan Elder's words.
'Has he finally made his move?' Ozias wondered, his thoughts swirling. 'Despite being warned to leave things be? If he knew the successor was to emerge, why take the risk of raising him in such a far-off, unguarded place? Wouldn't it be safer here? Why allow the successor to grow in such a fragile universe, vulnerable to threats beyond our reach?'
His gaze fell on Jay, who stood silently, his body still under constant pressure from the presence of the two immense beings before him. There was something about the young man—something that tugged at the edge of Ozias’s instincts. For a moment, Ozias pondered deeply, his brows furrowing as he weighed the situation. Finally, with a long sigh, he reached a decision.
Without another word, Ozias released his hold on the Origin Glaive. The weapon, free from his control, began to move on its own. It phazed and passed effortlessly through the existential divide, as though the very laws of space and time bowed to its will.
The Glaive then traveled through the space breach, shrinking as it moved with graceful swiftness. In an instant, it plunged into Jay’s body, disappearing completely within him.
Jay’s eyes widened in shock, and a sharp, agonizing pain ripped through him—far more intense than anything he had ever experienced, even more excruciating than the pain of entering Inverse Mode.
The searing heat of the Glaive’s energy pulsed through every fiber of his being, and his senses were overwhelmed by the sheer force of it. His vision blurred, and his thoughts grew distant as his consciousness slipped away. But just before the darkness claimed him entirely, he heard the voice of Ozias, the Clan Head, echo in his mind—his words a final, grave precaution.
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‘Do not leave your universe until you have reached Tier-10,’ Ozias's voice reverberated in his mind, carrying an unmistakable weight of authority. ‘And if you must leave, do not wield the Origin Weapon in the open. Those who recognize it will know you are Orpheus’ successor. And if they discover that, you will be hunted by an enemy even we fear—a foe so powerful that we ourselves can only hide from.’
As Jay’s consciousness faded, the space breach slowly sealed itself, its edges closing like a wound healing over. The immense power that had once swirled around the area began to settle, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.
Groten, the Clan Elder, stood beside the Clan Head, his immense form casting a long shadow across the sealed space breach. His face, lined with the wisdom of countless millennia, was taut with concern.
Though he had served the clan loyally for eons, that development weighed heavily on his mind. The events that had just transpired unsettled him in a way few things had. Turning toward Ozias, his voice was low, filled with uncertainty.
"Clan Head," Groten began, his words careful, "why did you let go of the Guardian Weapon? The Origin Glaive shouldn’t have been allowed to leave our clan. Why hand it over to that... mortal?"
Ozias remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the space breach that had closed moments ago. His expression was contemplative, but calm. "Groten," he finally spoke, his tone steady, “do you think just anyone could command the Origin Weapon the way it responded?”
Groten’s eyes widened, realization dawning on him. His shock was evident as his mind connected the pieces. "Then... he’s the Founding Ancestor’s successor?"
Groten’s voice quivered slightly with the gravity of what he was saying. "If that’s true, we must bring him into the protection of our clan. He is far too valuable to be left out there, vulnerable. We should protect him at all costs."
Ozias let out a long breath, his gaze never leaving the distant horizon as though peering into the unseen forces at play. "I have no doubt that the Karmic Primordial is behind all of this."
The mere mention of the Karmic Primordial sent a jolt through Groten. He was visibly taken aback, his body stiffening as if the very name held an invisible weight. The Karmic Primordial—an enigmatic figure whose influence spanned countless Universe realms—was someone no one had ever seen in full.
He was a being of incredible mystery, one who was said to had shaped the karma of major events in ways that were rarely understood. The mere mention of his name was enough to send ripples of apprehension through even the mightiest figures across the vast Omnos.
"The KARMIC PRIMORDIAL?" Groten echoed, his voice filled with disbelief. "But he’s never taken any action that would harm the clan, nor would he ever tarnish the legacy left behind, especially given the relationship he had with the Founding Ancestor."
Groten’s brow furrowed as he continued, his voice tinged with unease. "And yet... I cannot shake this feeling, Clan Head. He’s always been too secretive. He operates behind layers upon layers of mystery, and we’re never allowed to fully understand his motives. It’s as though there’s always something he’s keeping from us, something we can’t see. What if we’re missing something critical?"
Ozias finally turned to meet Groten’s gaze, his expression more thoughtful than concerned. "The Karmic Primordial plays the long game, Groten. He sees beyond what we can comprehend, weaving threads of Karma that stretch across countless realms. But secrecy has its price. There are forces at play even we cannot control or foresee. And while I trust in his larger plan, I fear that the consequences of his choices may reach further than any of us can anticipate."
Groten nodded solemnly, his expression heavy with understanding. The future of the Orpheus bloodline, once a matter of pride and strength, had become precarious, teetering on the edge of cosmic forces far beyond their control. The successor, hidden away in a distant universe, was vulnerable, exposed to threats they couldn’t predict or prevent.
"If the KARMIC PRIMORDIAL is truly behind this," Groten said, his voice quieter now, "then we must be prepared for whatever is to come. There are enemies who would stop at nothing to destroy the Orpheus legacy. If they discover who he is—what he carries within him—then everything we have waited for could crumble."
Ozias gave a slow nod, his eyes drifting back toward the stars as if searching for answers beyond the horizon. "Everything is already in motion, Groten. The moment the Origin Glaive bonded with him, the wheels of Karma turned in ways even I cannot fully grasp. We cannot interfere now—only watch."
As he spoke, Ozias's gaze shifted to the far distance, where the Eternal God Body of Orpheus, their Founding Ancestor, floated in the void like a celestial monument. The great body shimmered with a power that defied time, its presence both comforting and sorrowful, a reminder of the clan's lineage and the immense burden that came with it.
In that moment, a deep thought weighed heavily on Ozias’s heart. He lowered his head, reverence and regret mingling as he silently addressed the memory of their bloodline’s founder.
'Grandfather, we finally have your successor,’ Ozias thought to himself, his mind touching on the enormity of the situation. ‘But we are bound to this space, unable to go outside without risking the clan’s safety. The enemies who once didn’t dare to raise their voice when you were here have begun making moves in the shadows. Please forgive us, for we cannot protect him ourselves. All we can do is wait and hope that the KARMIC PRIMORDIAL’s plan will keep him safe... until it is time for us to act.'
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