Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 291: Chapter 292: Ring Threshold

Two days passed under the heavy canopy.

The light filtering through the leaves had shifted from pale green to deeper shadow and back again. The air on the high platform remained thick with humidity, yet around the two seated figures it had grown subtly thinner.

Faint distortions rippled near their skin. Microscopic amounts of surrounding matter—drifting leaf fragments, moisture beads, airborne dust, dead skin cells, and even the outermost layers of the tree bark—were continuously drawn toward them. The moment the matter touched their skin, it was broken down and rewritten into pure energy.

E=mc².

That single principle, applied with absolute precision, had become their primary furnace. Ambient heat and residual life force were no longer enough to feed their growth. Matter itself was being consumed, and the Bootstrap Circulation Method answered by accelerating without pause.

Runar sat at the center of the process.

Inside his body, nine minor rings already rotated in stable harmony around his heart. The tenth was forming under controlled compression. It was denser and brighter than any that had come before, pulling in the converted matter-energy like a starving vortex. His spiritual sense stretched outward in a wide, clear radius, mapping every shift of air and leaf within range. The mortal body he inhabited no longer felt like a fragile prison. It felt like a vessel that was finally remembering what it was supposed to be.

The tenth ring locked into place.

Energy reached critical density. The ten minor rings resonated as one, spinning faster and faster until they blurred into a single band of light. Then, they collapsed inward in a single, silent fusion.

A runic-golden halo stabilized around his heart. It was clean, luminous, and far higher in quality than the minor rings that had birthed it.

Almost simultaneously, the energy surged upward. Because the Bootstrap method had originated in his mind, the brain demanded its share. A second, matching runic-golden halo formed around his brain, settling into place with a deep internal resonance that echoed through his skull and thoughts alike.

Solar System scale.

The qualitative leap arrived without any flashy external spectacle. But internally, it was a massive shift. Physical parameters surged. Muscle fibers densified. Bone marrow grew heavy and strong. Mental clarity sharpened into something colder and more precise. His spiritual sense expanded in a decisive wave, pushing the boundaries of his awareness farther still.

Most importantly, a thin thread of the Eye of Myriad Truths’ spatial authority stirred for the first time since the suppression had fallen. It remained locked behind the trial’s absolute restriction, yet it was no longer completely silent. It had begun to remember itself. Runar could faintly feel the geometric angles of the air around him, the subtle folds in the space between the leaves.

Runar opened his eyes.

The golden-white light within them was still restrained, yet clearer than it had been in days. He exhaled once, slow and controlled, and felt the dual halos rotating in perfect synchrony—one at the heart, one at the brain.

Across from him, Wukong’s process reached its own threshold.

The final minor rings compressed and stabilized. Planetary scale settled over him like a new skin. Strength, speed, and perception all climbed to a level that finally shed the last of the pure-mortal sluggishness. He opened his eyes a moment later, golden irises sharp with focus, and immediately sensed the massive difference in the air between them.

”You just jumped again,” Wukong said. His voice carried no resentment, only flat recognition. ”Two halos. Heart and brain. That’s not Planetary anymore.”

”Solar System scale,” Runar confirmed calmly.

Wukong gave a short, fierce grin. ”Of course it is. You never did know how to progress at a normal speed. Two cores. Show off.”

He closed his eyes again without further comment, already driving the Bootstrap method toward the next set of rings. The gap was clear. He simply refused to let it widen unchallenged.

High above the the world, the Ancient Will observed through its viewing threads.

Solar System scale in two days under full suppression. Dual runic-golden halos. A faint re-stirring of spatial authority inside the lock. Every data point confirmed the same conclusion: the vessel was maturing far faster than projected.

’I might have to launch my plan prematurely.’

Hunger sharpened. Satisfaction followed. The Will elected to continue pure observation for now. The remaining eighteen days would reveal how high this foundation could be pushed.

---

Under normal circumstances, this entire struggle would have been unnecessary. If the entrants had access to their other rules and principles, any of them could have reached their absolute peaks in just a few hours. But they only had access to fundamental runes, just the fundamentals of runes not even Principles of runes. Everything else was completely suppressed by the this layer of the Reliquary, forcing them to rely on these slow, painful workaround methods just to claw their way back up the cultivation ladder.

---

Elsewhere in the safe zone, the other survivors continued their own races.

Vark sat beneath the arch of a root large enough to shelter a house.

His annihilation method had carried him to the peak of Planetary scale, the border of Solar System potential already visible in the cold density of his presence. Several annihilation-forged rings rotated around his heart.

His body had grown leaner, harder, almost gaunt. He was actively erasing his own fat, weak muscle fibers, and even non-essential parts of his digestive system. Unnecessary matter continued to vanish under his precise internal erasure, converting directly into fuel.

Pain was constant. It felt like his insides were being scraped with rusty blades. He paid it without a single change in his facial expression.

Pain is just information, Vark thought coldly. The body is just an object. It does not require comfort. It requires results.

Sylphy knelt in a dense thicket, silver markings glowing with renewed strength.

Controlled burns of her bloodline essence had brought her to a solid Planetary level. The foundation was real, and her physical strength had returned in leaps. Yet, a faint residual instability lingered in her circulation—the inevitable tax of her method. Every time she burned her essence, she felt a phantom ache in her bones, a warning that she was damaging her future potential.

She wiped a drop of sweat from her chin. I need more power, she calculated. But if I burn too much more, I’ll cripple my bloodline permanently. I have to find external resources soon. I cannot keep eating my own future to survive today.

Lyra Solenne remained in the high fork of her chosen tree.

Steady mental cultivation had carried her to the peak of Planetary scale. Spirit force generation remained slower than the perfected Bootstrap system, but her discipline never wavered. Channels were open. Her energy core had formed. Progress continued without drama or complaint.

A thin line of blood trickled from her nose due to the sheer mental strain of keeping the furnace burning. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, her face completely blank. Slow, she thought. But I will not break.

Darius moved alone through the undergrowth.

The energy taken from Finn’s blood and life force had forced him to mid-to-high Planetary level. The foundation functioned, and he was much stronger than a mortal now. Yet, a subtle impurity clung to his energy. It felt greasy and heavy in his veins—the mark of power that had not been earned cleanly.

He was aware of the flaw. He could feel the stolen energy resisting his commands slightly. Finn was weak, but his energy is tainted, Darius thought, his eyes scanning the shadows. If I fight someone with a pure foundation, this impurity might cause my circulation to stutter. I need to hunt again. Or I need to find a way to purify this before the safe zone drops.

Soren Vale sat in his formal posture on a clear patch of ground.

His Confucian aura had thickened into a stable, pure seed. Through relentless mental discipline, he too had touched Planetary level. His foundation was the slowest in raw power among the major survivors, yet it remained the cleanest and least self-destructive.

He cultivated with the calm of a scholar who had found familiar ground even in a hostile world. The others rush and break themselves, Soren thought, his mind perfectly ordered. True strength is built on order, not desperation.

Most of them had reached Planetary scale, or stood so close that the difference no longer mattered. The twenty-day clock was already producing results across the board.

---

In a distant, shadowed section of the safe zone, the mysterious woman sat in perfect stillness.

No energy fluctuations rose from her. No rings formed. No visible method unfolded. The air around her remained completely ordinary.

High above, the Ancient Will tried to scan her again. Its viewing threads slid off her presence without gaining any clear information. It was like trying to read a book written in a language that didn’t exist. Her level stayed completely unreadable—a blank space in the data that should not have existed.

The Will’s attention lingered for several long moments. Cold calculation followed. Then, a firm deduction was made.

Paragon-level existence, the Will concluded. Almost certainly a lesser clone sent to observe or interfere. Further probing is inefficient and potentially hazardous.

The will chose to thoroughly ignore her for the remainder of the trial.

But a rare flicker of irritation surfaced beneath the decision.

The Master built this Reliquary to be perfect, the Will thought, its intent sharpening with annoyance. Why is there a backdoor for a Paragon clone? Did he invite her to watch? Or did she slip in through a flaw in the mechanism? A sealed Reliquary should not be so easily entered by an existence of that caliber. It should have right out denied her access to enter.

The irritation was noted, filed, and set aside. The Will could not fix the Master’s design choices now. It turned its primary focus back to the only vessel that truly mattered.

---

On the high platform, Runar had already begun the next cycle.

The dual runic-golden halos rotated in steady harmony. New minor rings were forming atop the Solar System foundation, each one drawing cleanly from the continuous conversion of surrounding matter.

Wukong cultivated opposite him, Planetary-scale rings accelerating under the same perfected method. The gap between them was acknowledged, but Wukong refused to accept it as permanent. His golden eyes remained closed, his breathing steady, his mind pushing the Bootstrap method to its absolute limit.

The jungle breathed around them—heavy, humid, and still bound by the safe-zone restriction. No Galaxy-level monster had yet crossed the boundary. No external threat had yet appeared.

Under the same canopy, multiple foundations had crossed into Planetary scale. One of them had already stepped into Solar System territory. And the single existence the Ancient Will could not read continued to sit in perfect, unreadable stillness.

The quiet race had produced its first clear hierarchy.

The clock kept running.