My Taming System Makes Me Overpowered

The extraction of the Nebular Archives was a quiet, suffocating execution of authority.

As the First Keeper remained pinned to the void floor, his six shattered wings dissolving into faint silver smoke, streams of glowing, golden data flew from the continent-sized obelisks straight into Elena’s administrative slate. Millions of years of cosmic blueprints, hidden dimensional coordinates, and forbidden progenitor algorithms poured into the citadel’s central matrix without resistance.

The obelisks had once stood as monuments to the knowledge of an ancient civilization, their surfaces covered in symbols that predated the formation of countless star systems. Now, their inscriptions flickered and faded as their contents were transferred, leaving behind stretches of dark, lifeless stone. Golden light traveled through the air in countless narrow streams, occasionally branching into complex geometric patterns before disappearing into Elena’s slate.

Beneath their feet, the citadel’s dark floor reflected the shifting glow. The surrounding archive realm had grown noticeably quieter since the First Keeper’s defeat. Even the distant hum of the dimensional barriers had weakened, as though the entire structure was gradually surrendering everything it had been built to protect.

”Data extraction at seventy-eight percent,” Elena reported smoothly, her golden eyes reflecting the endless rivers of information. A rare, satisfied smile touched her lips. ”The depth of these archives is extraordinary, Vince. We aren’t just reading history; we are acquiring the master keys to reality construction.”

Her fingers moved across the slate, sorting the incoming information into separate categories. Some records contained maps of dimensions that no longer existed, while others described the foundational laws governing matter, energy, and spatial boundaries. Several encrypted sections remained inaccessible, but the citadel’s matrix was already working through them.

For Elena, this was more than an impressive collection of ancient knowledge. It was an opportunity to understand the mechanisms that allowed entire realities to exist. The implications were considerable, and she showed no intention of wasting a single piece of information.

”Can we build our own worlds with those?” Barnaby asked, her translucent golden eyes wide with wonder as she rested her head on Vince’s chest. Her 100% bloomed Lotus Core hummed with a soft, warm purr against his tunic. ”Like a giant flower garden in space?”

Her question brought a brief change to the atmosphere on the bridge. While Elena examined the technical applications of the archives, Barnaby had already imagined something far simpler and considerably more colorful.

She lifted her head slightly, looking toward the streams of golden information with open curiosity. The idea of creating an entire world seemed to delight her, particularly if it meant filling an otherwise empty stretch of space with flowers. Her Lotus Core pulsed gently, releasing a faint golden glow that mingled with the light surrounding Vince’s throne.

”If Vince desires a garden of stars, Barnaby, we can forge ten thousand of them,” Elena replied softly, tapping her slate to seal the primary data stream.

Barnaby’s eyes brightened at the answer, and she settled comfortably against Vince again. Somewhere in the enormous collection of stolen knowledge, she had apparently found the possibility of a future garden worth looking forward to.

Vetra stepped up to the kneeling form of the First Keeper, nudging the broken half of his platinum staff with the tip of her boot. ”So, what do we do with the librarian? He doesn’t look like much use now that his fancy sticks are broken.”

The staff rolled a short distance across the floor before stopping against a raised seam in the deck. Its polished surface had lost most of its former brilliance, and the remaining fragments of its crystalline head scattered weak reflections across the surrounding metal.

Vetra looked down at the defeated entity with little concern. She had seen enough powerful enemies lose their composure after discovering that their strength was insufficient. The First Keeper’s elaborate title meant nothing to her now that he could barely lift his head.

The First Keeper trembled, his featureless platinum mask pressed against the cold void deck. The supreme pride of a progenitor entity had been completely eradicated, replaced by a deep, instinctual horror. ”Mortal... no, Sovereign... you do not understand what you have unsealed. The Council of Echoes... they will feel the severance of the Archives. They will collapse the timeline of your home realm to erase you...”

His voice faltered between phrases. Even while speaking, he seemed to struggle with the reality of his defeat. The Archives had been protected for ages, and their security had depended on the assumption that no outsider could force their way through the First Keeper’s authority.

That assumption had been destroyed in a single confrontation.

Now, the Council of Echoes remained his only hope of making Vince understand the danger. If the council discovered what had happened, its response would not necessarily be limited to sending another guardian. The power to interfere with timelines meant that entire civilizations could become targets before their inhabitants even realized they were in danger.

”Let them try,” Solaria spoke, stepping forward. Her crimson-trimmed imperial tunic caught the starlight, and the twilight amethyst mark over her heart glowed with fierce, absolute devotion. She raised her solar blade, resting the flat of the hot golden steel against the Keeper’s neck. ”You speak of threats to a sovereign who holds your very existence in the palm of his hand.”

The golden blade illuminated the smooth surface of the Keeper’s mask. A faint hiss rose where its heat met the cold air, but Solaria’s hand remained steady.

Her expression carried none of the uncertainty that might have accompanied such a threat before her transformation. She had already chosen where her loyalty belonged, and the Keeper’s warnings did nothing to shake that decision. To her, his confidence in the Council of Echoes was simply another reminder that the Progenitors had yet to understand the extent of Vince’s power.

The Keeper choked back a sound, completely terrified into silence by the former princess’s unyielding gaze.

”Solaria,” Vince’s velvet baritone cut through the tension.

Solaria instantly withdrew her blade, stepping back and bowing her head in perfect submission. ”Yes, Sovereign Vince?”

The movement was immediate. She did not question his timing or attempt to finish what she had started. Her solar blade lowered to her side as she waited for his next instruction.

”He stays,” Vince commanded smoothly, his dark amethyst eyes locking onto the trembling librarian. ”Bind his origin matrix to the citadel’s lower engine deck. Let him serve as a living power conduit for Elena’s administrative grid.”

The order was delivered without anger or hesitation. Vince regarded the First Keeper as a resource that had been overlooked rather than an enemy deserving a dramatic execution. The archives had supplied him with valuable information, but their former guardian possessed something equally useful: an origin matrix capable of sustaining the ancient systems he had once commanded.

”A... a power conduit?!” the Keeper gasped in disbelief, but before he could protest further, Elena pressed a single command on her slate.

A surge of purple twilight chains erupted from the void floor, wrapping tightly around the First Keeper’s body and dragging his towering frame down through the deck plates toward the lower engine levels. His pathetic cries faded into the deep, rhythmic hum of the citadel’s expanding power core.

The chains disappeared beneath the floor one after another, leaving only a few fading sparks where they had passed. A moment later, the citadel’s internal lighting stabilized, and several dormant sections of the central matrix came online.

”Engine efficiency increased by thirty-five percent,” Elena noted dryly, adjusting her glasses with a light tap. ”An acceptable addition to our infrastructure.”

She glanced over the new readings before returning to the extraction process. The improvement was already measurable, and the citadel’s systems were responding well to the additional energy source. Whatever objections the former First Keeper might have had, they were unlikely to affect Elena’s calculations.

Lyrielle chuckled softly, her silver hair shimmering as she walked to the edge of the observation deck. She notched a moon-light arrow into her elder-wood bow and aimed it toward the far side of the archive realm, where a hidden, massive spatial rift pulsed with deep crimson light.

The rift had remained concealed behind layers of dimensional interference, its presence obscured by the surrounding structures and the protective formations woven throughout the Archives. Now that the main defenses had weakened, its outline was impossible to miss.

Crimson energy rippled along its uneven edges. Every few seconds, the opening widened slightly before contracting again, revealing brief glimpses of a region beyond the archive realm. The space on the other side looked markedly different from the quiet expanse they had just conquered.

”Vince,” Lyrielle called out, her violet eyes narrowing. ”The Archives were hiding a direct pathway. It leads deeper into the Progenitor territory—straight toward the Forge of First Light.”

”The Forge?” Vetra grined, resting her heavy dark-iron broadsword over her shoulder. ”Sounds like the place where they make the big toys.”

”It is where they construct the origin cores for new realities,” Elena clarified, bringing up the decrypted schematics on her screen. ”And according to these records, it is guarded by the Architect of Iron, the chief military warmaster of the Progenitor Council.”

A three-dimensional projection appeared above Elena’s slate, displaying the Forge’s basic structure. Several enormous rings surrounded its central chamber, connected by bridges that seemed to extend across multiple dimensions. The available records showed only part of the facility, but the information was sufficient to establish its importance.

If the Archives had been a repository of knowledge, the Forge was where that knowledge became something tangible. The origin cores constructed there formed the foundations of new realities, making the facility one of the most strategically valuable locations within Progenitor territory.

And its guardian was no ordinary librarian.

Vince leaned back onto his obsidian throne, his dark velvet cloak cascading over the armrests. His broad arm tightened around Barnaby’s waist, while his free hand beckoned Solaria closer.

Solaria didn’t hesitate. She walked to the throne and sank gracefully onto her knees at his side, resting her flushed cheek against his knee while her golden eyes looked up at him in complete, worshipful surrender. Vince’s fingers threaded gently into her amber hair, his thumb stroking her jawline with possessive warmth.

Around them, the last streams of golden data continued flowing into Elena’s slate. The citadel’s systems had finished integrating the first major sections of the Archives, and the new information was already being incorporated into its navigation matrix.

Vince watched the crimson rift for a moment, considering the destination beyond it. The Progenitors had created entire worlds and guarded the methods behind their creation as though no one else could ever claim that knowledge. Their confidence had allowed them to build an empire around that assumption.

He intended to show them what happened when someone stronger arrived.

”They built worlds,” Vince murmured, his voice a low, dark promise that resonated through the souls of every woman on the bridge. ”Now they will watch me dismantle theirs.”

”The citadel is ready, Sovereign,” Elena stated, her golden eyes shining with quiet, absolute devotion as she locked the flight path into the crimson rift. ”Course set for the Forge of First Light.”

The navigation matrix illuminated beneath her hands, and the citadel’s engines began gathering energy. Twilight currents spread along the outer hull, tracing the intricate patterns embedded in its celestial-jade structure. The surrounding obelisks trembled as the growing energy field disturbed the remaining fragments of their ancient formations.

”Then let’s not keep the warmaster waiting,” Vince commanded.

With a powerful surge of twilight energy that shattered the remaining obelisks of the Nebular Archive into glittering stardust, the celestial-jade citadel plunged into the crimson rift, advancing ever deeper into the heart of the Progenitor realms.