My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

Chapter 230: The Unshackled Apex

The black, star-lit void of Vince’s newly forged domain hung in absolute silence. The mirror-like floor beneath his boots reflected a cosmos of glowing amethyst motes and shimmering golden filigree. In this space, ambient physical laws did not merely bend—they ceased to exist unless Vince granted them form.

Barnaby floated at the edge of his field of vision, her translucent silk dress fluttering against the dark void. Her golden eyes burned with an ancient, fierce pride, but her expression held the solemn weight of a mentor preparing her student for the final, irreversible step.

”You have learned to align your existence with your authority, Vince,” Barnaby said, her voice carrying a harmonic chime that resonated across the boundless darkness. ”You have learned to look through the threads bound to your companions, and you have learned to overwrite localized space with your presence. But there remains one final obstacle between you and the Six Sovereigns.”

Vince turned his gaze toward her. His amethyst eyes were no longer wild or volatile; they were a luminous, calm expanse of pure power. ”Their divine rank.”

”Yes,” Barnaby confirmed, circling him slowly as her ethereal form shed a faint, pearlescent glow. ”The Sovereigns do not merely wield high-tier magic or upper-realm spells. They possess ’Ranked Authority’—a fundamental decree enforced by the Obelisk of Absolute Law itself. When a lower-realm entity attempts to strike a Sovereign, the Obelisk automatically nullifies the attack, deeming it an illegal act against the order of the universe. It is why mortals, no matter how strong, always crumble before them.”

Vince looked down at his right hand. He flexed his fingers, watching subtle ripples of black-gold force weave smoothly between his knuckles without generating a single spark of friction or heat.

”So Executioner’s Edge isn’t enough,” Vince noted smoothly.

”Executioner’s Edge was a blade built to cut through lower-realm mana circuits and crude law-arrays,” Barnaby explained, stopping directly in front of him. ”Against a Sovereign’s core, a sword is still just a tool. To pierce their absolute decree, your intent itself must become the weapon. You must craft an authority that strips them of their divine rank on contact—a power that declares their ’Absolute Law’ null and void.”

She raised her palm, her expression turning deadly serious.

”I am going to manifest a spectral projection of a Sovereign’s true authority,” Barnaby warned, her tone stripped of all playfulness. ”It is not a simulation, Vince. It is an authentic fragment of the primordial law of Stasis and Erasure. If you attempt to block it with mortal magic or slice it with raw energy, it will sever your soul from your body. Do not fight it. Unwrite it.”

THUM—!

The black void around them shuddered violently.

Above Barnaby’s open palm, space fractured like brittle ice. A towering, ethereal seal manifested—a massive, golden geometric ring inscribed with thousands of shifting, razor-sharp celestial runes. It radiated an suffocating, soul-crushing weight that attempted to instantly force Vince onto his knees, seeking to strip him of his movement, his breath, and his identity.

It was the true, unadulterated pressure of an Upper Realm Sovereign.

Vince felt the cosmic pressure press down against his shoulders, attempting to classify his existence as ”mortal” and force him into compliance. In his earlier days—even during his rampage at the pass—he would have responded with explosive, lashing arcs of raw energy to tear through the weight.

Now, Vince simply stood tall. He didn’t tense his muscles. He didn’t raise a barrier.

”You are an illegal entity,” a hollow, artificial voice echoed from the golden seal, reverberating with the weight of the Obelisk. ”Submit to the absolute decree of the Sovereign.”

Vince took a slow, deep breath, letting his awareness sink past the golden ring, past the celestial runes, and straight into the core of the projection’s authority.

”Illegal?” Vince murmured softly.

He stepped forward.

He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t form a spell array. He simply extended his bare hand toward the towering golden seal. As his fingers approached the burning celestial runes, the divine threads of silver filigree and golden lattice woven deep within his core flared in complete, unhindered alignment.

His intent took physical form—a thin, jet-black edge of absolute void outlined in brilliant, liquid gold. It was not a physical blade, nor a spell of dark element. It was the physical manifestation of his refusal to acknowledge their decree.

”Rank Severance,” Vince spoke, his voice carrying the quiet, undeniable weight of a true monarch.

He lightly brushed his thumb against the edge of the golden ring.

CLINK.

The sound was as small as a crystal glass tapping against stone, yet it shattered the silence of the void.

The towering golden seal froze. The shifting celestial runes instantly lost their brilliant lustre, turning a dull, rusted grey. The suffocating pressure that had attempted to force Vince to his knees didn’t just break—it was stripped of its divine classification entirely, crumbling into harmless, inert mana dust that dissolved into the dark air.

The spectral projection of the Sovereign’s absolute authority was gone, erased from existence as if it had never been written into the laws of the universe.

Barnaby stood frozen in mid-air. Her translucent dress hung still, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the empty space where the Sovereign’s projection had just existed.

Slowly, she looked up at Vince.

”You didn’t just overwrite it,” she whispered, her golden eyes wide with a mixture of profound shock and breathless wonder. ”You stripped its rank... and erased its origin.”

Vince lowered his hand. The thin, jet-black edge of liquid gold vanished smoothly back into his skin. His breathing remained completely even, his core pulsing with a deep, serene rhythm that harmonized perfectly with the black cosmos around them.

”They built their entire empire on the illusion that their law is absolute,” Vince said, a slow, cold smirk touching his lips as he looked at his clear, unblemished palms. ”They think they are the judges, the executioners, and the rule-makers. But when a rule meets the one who controls the ink... it’s just words on paper.”

Barnaby let out a low, breathless laugh that echoed softly across the void. She floated forward, her ethereal form shimmering as she wrapped her translucent arms around his neck, leaning up to rest her forehead against his.

”The training is complete, Vince,” Barnaby murmured, her voice trembling with intense, divine thrill. ”Your core is unbound. You are no longer constrained by percentage caps, mortal friction, or lower-realm channels. You have achieved total mastery over divine authority.”

Vince closed his eyes for a brief second, feeling the quiet, steady pulses of Vetra and Elena’s cores echoing across the spiritual link in his mind. They were still held at the apex of the Archon Nexus Spire, waiting for him—not as terrified captives praying for a savior, but as confident companions holding the line until their god arrived.

He opened his eyes.

With a simple, fluid motion of his hand, Vince dissolved his personal domain.

The black void, the amethyst stars, and the mirror floor folded inward, collapsing into a single, dense point of light before vanishing completely.

The pocket realm shattered.

Vince and Barnaby stepped back out into the physical world, appearing on the high, jagged ridge overlooking the Outer Province borderlands. The bitter mountain wind blew past his dark coat, carrying the faint, metallic scent of the smoldering crater below where he had decimated the two hundred Inquisitors.

High on the distant horizon, towering over the jagged mountain ranges, stood the Archon Nexus Spire. Its massive obsidian-and-gold monolith reached straight into the heavy iron-grey clouds, pulsing with a periodic, violent crimson light that signaled a full celestial lockdown.

”Look at them,” Barnaby said, floating upside down above his left shoulder once more, a playful, wicked grin returning to her ethereal face. ”They’ve fortified every inch of the province. High-tier barrier arrays, spatial displacement grids, and thousands of elite Inquisitor commanders guarding the gates.”

Vince didn’t bother using the Mirage Matrix to hide his appearance. He didn’t lower his aura to blend in. He didn’t reach for a disguise or search for a hidden mountain path.

He simply stepped off the edge of the cliff.

STEP.

His boot didn’t fall into the chasm. The air beneath his foot instantly hardened into a solid plate of jet-black and gold force, creating an absolute foothold in mid-air.

Vince took another step forward, walking calmly through the sky as if descending a grand set of marble stairs. With every step he took, the atmospheric pressure around the province shifted, the heavy iron-grey clouds above parting in a massive, clean circle that allowed beams of pale sunlight to pierce through the gloom.

Dozens of provincial scout arrays and distant celestial watchtowers flared with frantic red warning runes as they detected his unmasked, radiant presence moving across the open sky.

Vince paid them no mind. He kept his eyes locked on the crimson beacon at the peak of the Spire, his voice low and razor-sharp as the wind whipped his dark coat around his legs.

”Let’s go take back what’s ours.”