Myriad Heavens: Rise of the Rune God

Chapter 294: Chapter 295: Unbreakable Core

He applied the same runic authority that had just erased dozens of monsters and pressed it against the core’s outer shell.

The core did not care. It remained exactly as it was. Absolute. Inviolable. Unchanged.

A quiet spark of interest moved through him.

These things are genuinely indestructible by normal means. The monsters can be erased. Their principles can be unraveled. Their bodies can be disintegrated. But the cores remain. Whatever process creates them operates on a level above the runes I currently command.

He stored every core without counting them. Galaxy, Universal, Multiversal—the mixture did not matter right now. Points were secondary. The Reliquary’s reward system was a tool, not a priority. The cores themselves, and whatever secrets their invulnerability held, came first.

Understanding always came first.

He turned to Wukong.

”It’s time to begin hunting.”

Wukong’s grin returned, sharp and eager. He spun his staff once and rested it across his shoulders.

”The hunted becomes the hunter.”

They moved.

Behind them the void continued to stretch, now littered with the faint, fading after-images of the runic wave. Farther out, new monster signatures were already beginning to stir, drawn by the sudden vacuum of power and the lingering scent of erased existences.

---

Elsewhere in the void, the other survivors had felt it too.

Every single one of them had been preparing for the safety zone to drop. Every single one of them had been bracing for the first wave. And every single one of them had felt that wave arrive, converge on a single point, and then simply stop existing.

Vark stood motionless on his barren stretch of ground. His eyes were fixed on the distant point where the disintegration had occurred. His annihilation principle had been ready. His body had been coiled. He had been prepared to fight.

He had not been prepared for someone else to erase the entire wave before he could move. 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Runic authority, he identified. Not spatial manipulation. Not temporal reversal. Not conceptual erasure. Something else. Something that rewrote the rules of what was allowed to exist.

But there was another detail. The erasure had felt similar to his own annihilation, yet different. It was not pure Annihilation. It was structured. Calculated. Built from runes.

He simulated a principle through runes.

Vark’s jaw tightened once. Then released. The gap had not closed. It had widened again. But Vark did not feel despair. He felt the familiar cold pressure of a challenge that demanded everything he had.

He turned away from the distant flash and began moving toward a different cluster of monster signatures. There would be other kills. Other cores. The hunt was five days long.

---

Soren Vale’s scholarly calm cracked fully this time. His eyes were wide. His hands were still. His mind raced through the implications of what he had just felt.

That was not a technique. That was not a normal principle application. That was a rewrite. He rewrote the local reality and decided that those monsters did not exist.

Then he felt the secondary structure beneath the erasure. The runic lattice. The simulated law. The artificial principle built from comprehension alone.

Soren swallowed. His throat was dry.

The Principle of Rune at that level is not a tool. It is an authority. He is not using runes to manipulate reality. He is using runes to define reality. If he can simulate disintegration, what else can he simulate? Space? Time? Annihilation? Creation?

He forced himself to breathe. To think. To plan. If Runar could erase an entire wave of incoming monsters with a single gesture, then direct confrontation was not an option. Not now. Not ever, unless the gap closed dramatically.

Soren needed to stay away. Needed to hunt independently. Needed to accumulate points without drawing attention.

Survival first. Distance second. Points third.

He turned and moved in the opposite direction from Runar’s position. Fast. Deliberate. Not looking back.

---

Sylphy felt the wave from her position and immediately dropped her spiritual sense to its lowest possible output. She made herself small. Quiet. Invisible. The silver markings on her arms dimmed as she suppressed her own presence.

That was him. That was definitely him. And he just killed everything in range without breaking a sweat.

She had felt the strange nature of the erasure too. It was not brute force. It was not overwhelming energy. It was a law imposed on reality. A law built from runes.

If his detection range is as wide as his attack range, I need to be far away before he decides to test it again.

She moved. Quickly. Quietly. Toward the edges of the layer where weaker monsters gathered.

---

Lyra Solenne’s expression did not change. But her hands, which had been forming a defensive technique, lowered slowly to her sides. She stared at the empty space where the wave had been. She stared for a long time.

Then she exhaled.

Survival first, she reminded herself. Points second. Inheritance third. And staying away from Runar is part of all three.

She chose a direction and moved. Steady. Controlled. Not fast enough to draw attention. Not slow enough to be caught.

---

Darius felt the wave from his hiding spot and went very, very still. His hands stopped moving. His breathing stopped. His energy circulation stopped. For three full seconds he was a statue, barely alive, barely present.

Then his breathing resumed. Shallow. Fast.

What the hell was that? What the hell just happened? That wasn’t a fight. That wasn’t a battle. That was a deletion. He deleted them. All of them. At once.

Darius looked down at his own hands. At the stolen energy circulating through his channels. At the flawed, impure foundation he had built from Finn’s blood. And he felt very, very small.

I need to stay away from him. I need to stay away from all of them. I need to find Galaxy-level monsters and farm them quietly and hope no one notices me.

He moved. Low. Careful. Staying close to whatever residual terrain still existed. Praying that the void stayed empty around him.

---

High above the layer, deeper in the Reliquary’s hidden architecture, the Ancient Will processed what it had just witnessed.

Its viewing threads had captured every frame. Every microsecond. Every particle of the disintegration wave as it expanded and rewrote the local reality. The data was extensive. The implications were significant.

Runic disintegration at a cascading lattice level. Self-referencing erasure patterns. Multi-dimensional propagation. Simulated principle expression through pure runic authority.

The Will paused on that final point.

Runar had not used a true Principle of Disintegration. He did not carry it. He had not cultivated it from the foundation upward. He had used the Principle of Rune to construct a temporary equivalent. A simulation. A translation. A copy built from structure and meaning rather than direct mastery.

And it had worked.

Not perfectly. The Will could see the inefficiencies. The slight delay in propagation. The unnecessary energy expenditure. The rough edges where the simulation had strained against the complexity of living principles. But those flaws were minor. They were the flaws of a first attempt.

He is beginning to use runes as a universal language, the Will noted. Not merely to describe existing laws, but to borrow them. To imitate them. To impose them.

That was dangerous. That was valuable. That was exactly what the Rune Sovereign had once theorized.

The Will ran the numbers. Compared them to projections. Compared those projections to the ceiling it had estimated for Runar’s growth during the trial.

The ceiling had been exceeded. Again.

The vessel grows faster than any previous candidate. The Eye provides the foundation. The Rune Sovereign’s notes provide the framework. The Reliquary itself provides the environment. And the vessel’s own comprehension provides the acceleration. All factors are aligned. All trajectories point upward.

Satisfaction settled through the Will’s awareness. Cold. Complete. Absolute.

Let the hunt continue. Let him grow. Let him consume. Every monster he erases, every core he collects, every principle he studies brings him closer to the threshold I need. The five-day hunt will test his limits. And when the hunt ends, I will know exactly how ready he is.

It turned its attention back to the void. Back to the scattered survivors. Back to the approaching second wave of monsters.

The game was proceeding. Faster than expected. Better than expected.

And the Ancient Will was patient enough to watch it all unfold.

---

Far out in the void, Runar and Wukong moved together through the empty expanse. Their pace was steady. Their direction was deliberate. Their spiritual senses swept ahead of them, mapping the approaching signatures, counting the incoming waves, calculating the optimal path through the next five days.

Wukong broke the silence after a few minutes. His voice was light. Casual. But there was an edge underneath it.

”So. Five days. Monster hunting. Points for rewards. And you just proved you can one-shot an entire wave using a fake disintegration principle.” He glanced sideways at Runar. ”What’s the plan? We chase the Multiversal ones? Go straight for the Pseudo-Paragon?”

Runar considered the question. His golden-white eyes tracked the distant signatures moving toward them. Dozens. Hundreds. The first wave had been nothing. A scouting party. An appetizer. The real hunt was still coming.

”The Pseudo-Paragon core is the stated goal,” Runar said. ”But we do not know where it is. We do not know what guards it. We do not know if it is even real. The Will’s announcements are designed to direct behavior, not to inform.”

Wukong nodded slowly. ”So we hunt what we can find. Work our way up. Gather information.”

”Yes. And study the cores as we go. Their structure is more valuable than the points they represent.”

Wukong grinned. ”Always the scholar.”

”Always.”

They moved faster. The void stretched around them, empty and waiting. Behind them, the fading after-images of the first kill still lingered like scars on reality. Ahead of them, the darkness was filling with new shapes. New signatures. New prey.

The five-day hunt had begun.

And the board had already been rewritten.