Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

Chapter 1059: You are not worthy… No.28.

!~Ding~!

[You have Levelled up!!]

[Level: 96↑]

!~Ding~!

[Level: 97↑]

!~Ding~!

[Level: 98↑]

!~Ding~!

[Level: 99↑]

!~Ding~!

[Congratulations on Levelling up]

[Reward: 40,000 Affection Points]

!~Ding~!

[Survival rate: 90.9↑%]

”Hufff—Hufff—Hufff…” Each desperate gasp tore through Aetherʼs throat, raw and ragged, as his chest heaved violently.

His eyes flickered, spasming between pure white and pitch black with each wild heartbeat. Then, almost abruptly, the storm inside him calmed—his gaze returning to its usual ice-blue… except now, there was something different...

Aether grew taller—far taller than before—noticeably and impossibly so. His clothes strained against the sudden transformation, fabric creaking as it clung to a body no longer just human.

Every inch of him—from chest to thighs, shoulders to lats—bulged with power, every muscle sharpened into terrifying perfection.

His body didnʼt just grow stronger; it had been forged into something mythic. His feet stretched longer, stance widening with primal dominance. Fingers curled and flexed, brimming with raw power, knuckles cracking loudly beneath sleeves that were now painfully tight. The fabric around his waist and torso stretched taut, unable to mask the new ridges of his abdomen—ten perfectly cut, almost surreal abs, rising like the carved surface of a divine relic.

His ring, the one that concealed his hair colour, had already shattered—snapped cleanly by the swelling of his hand.

The hair cascading down his back shimmered like starlight turned to liquid silver, every strand catching the dim light and reflecting it with a mystical, molten glow.

Even his face had transformed—flawlessly shaped, not a single blemish, as if sculpted by an angry god obsessed with perfection. His nose was sharper, jaw firm and intimidating, lips slightly thinner but eerily precise, and a small smear of blood still lingering on one corner. But it was his eyes—those piercing ice-blue shards—that cut through the air like glass touched by winter itself.

He looked like a God—no, more than a God.

Something untouchable!

Terrifying!!

Aether exhaled slowly, rubbing the blood from the corner of his mouth as his cold gaze lowered to the ground, where the thick, tar-like blood he had coughed up was still steaming. ”Is that... my impurity?” he whispered, almost dazed, ”Did that... come out of me?”

The shock in his voice was clear—but even more shocking was the sound of that voice itself.

”Hmm?” He blinked, then frowned slightly. ”What the hell?” His voice had dropped, deeper than before—rich, resonant, and pulsing with power. ”Damn... thatʼs so fucking cool,” he muttered with a smirk, tilting his head with growing amusement.

His eyes then shifted to the Ebon Stone before him—it had started to rotate slowly.

The Mother Root statue that once stood atop it had already fallen, lying and discarded on the ground like a forgotten doll.

Aether stared at the rotating stone, eyes narrowing as Forbidden words etched themselves across its surface. He read them aloud in a breathless whisper,

”Name of the... New Race, Blood of the Blessed Ones and...” his gaze hardened as he continued,

”Good... bad... No... it says... Protector/Sinner.”

!~Ding~!

[Forbidden Language: 85↑%]

Aether blinked at the text, then let out a breathless laugh. ”Haha... HEHEHEHEHE...” The laughter erupted from him like a crack in his sanity—deep, loud, manic.

In the end… it had all been her game. Her design. He had danced in her palm the whole time.

Protector... That was his Iteration. That made sense. But Sinner? He wasnʼt sure about that title, but he had a feeling. In all those previous iterations, especially Iteration No.27... he had done some terrible things, hadnʼt he?

If that was the truth... then yeah. It was still him who had done them.

Thatʼs the Mother Goddess for you.

No matter how much effort he put in, no matter how badly he wanted to avoid it… in the end… it was the Goddess who always won.

”I look like a fucking fool!!” Aether suddenly stopped, clenching his teeth furiously. His tone alone cracked the surrounding walls as the air quivered with raw emotion.

He took a breath, loosening his tensed body, then shook his head. ”Fuck it. You win,” he muttered, his voice hollow as he stared blankly at the fallen statue before him. With a slow exhale, he stood up again.

What was done was done… He couldnʼt change it anymore. And, honestly, the Ebon Stone had already activated without requiring him to figure out whatever nonsense it demanded. At least that was one less headache.

Just as he took a step forward—

Ting!

A familiar sound rang from below.

Aetherʼs eyes widened. In one swift movement, he slid to the side and slammed his fist into the ground. His hand punched through like a drill, the surface cracking and parting as his arm sank deep. He felt his knuckles break through something, reaching into a narrow, hidden space beneath the stone.

His fingers moved cautiously, feeling around in the dark. First, he brushed against something fragile—soft to the touch, yet there was a hardness. He paused, his brow furrowing, almost withdrawing his hand… when his fingertips suddenly touched something unexpected—

Ting!

Aetherʼs eyes snapped open as he instinctively withdrew his hand from the strange object—only to shift slightly and reach again.

Now, his entire right arm was buried deep beneath the ground, shoulder pressing against the surface. His fingers touched something slick… rusted… corroded by time.

Ting!

”Thatʼs the one…” he murmured, eyes narrowing. He still couldnʼt see it, but he could feel it. Whatever it was, it didnʼt just lie there—it called to him. His fingers slowly curled around what felt like a rod-shaped structure.

”HMMMNN!!” Aether growled, clenching his fist around it tightly as he tried to pull.

Yet—

”AAARRRGHHH!!” He groaned in frustration. It didnʼt budge—not even an inch. It was like trying to lift something he couldnʼt even fully comprehend, let alone touch.

”What the fuck…” Aether gritted his teeth. He knew—deep in his gut—that this thing beneath him was what had summoned him.

And still… it was too heavy.

Ridiculously heavy!

He could lift mountains if he wanted to.

But this?

This was something else.

His grip tightened around the rod. He inhaled deeply.

”ARRRRRRRRRHHHHH!!!”

The ground exploded around him, trembling violently as he poured every last ounce of strength into pulling. His veins bulged, muscles straining to their absolute limit. His face turned red, sweat pouring as the very foundation of the temple began to quake from the sheer effort.

And still… he couldnʼt lift it.

”Because…”

Aether froze.... The voice was soft—ethereal.

He slowly raised his face, and there—crouched in front of him—was the statue of the Mother Root.

It had no face… and yet somehow it was looking at him, with what felt like amusement, a twisted sort of judgment.

And then it spoke again.

”You are not worthy… No.28.”