The Invincible Full-Moon System

Chapter 2006: Grasping Immortal Energy

Rex smiled inwardly.

His first and most important favour that he asked of the Warden was to protect the Mortal Realm.

In the near future, when things escalated, and he finally entered the Blood Moon Realm and ran amok—the Lunirich Gods would be increasingly cornered. And a cornered predator would do anything in order to survive, even using methods that it never used before or perhaps even beneath it.

And naturally, the Mortal Realm would be targeted.

Kaiser had already attempted to attack and kill those back home, but he hadn’t gone all-out.

He tried, but there was no desperation in his attempt.

Next time, when Rex broke the Blood Moon Realm and entered their pantheon, that desperation would surface, and he wanted to be ready. It was the reason why he wanted to meet with the Warden, to protect the Mortal Realm.

Moreover, he also already got the item to enter the Sundial Arch, so he might as well use it.

As someone who wields the power of time, the Warden has a way to protect the Mortal Realm.

He would use the Oustification of Time and the Major Law of Time to envelop the entire realm—and set mechanisms that would trigger their powers. In the event that a higher being such as a demigod or a god invaded the realm, the power of time would be activated, freezing time within the realm.

Anyone inside would be frozen in time.

Of course, the invaders would also be influenced, stopping them from breaking into the realm.

Doing something like that sounded really difficult.

Rex wasn’t surprised when the Warden said that he would need the other Wardens to do the favour.

But as it turned out, the old entity had been playing a game. He’d claimed the feat was difficult, a burden undertaken for Rex’s sake—but it was a lie, carefully woven to manufacture gratitude. In truth, he could have enveloped the entire Mortal Realm without the slightest strain.

He did it the moment he left the Temporal Labyrinth.

Just saying that it was hard to do so that Rex would feel even more grateful.

Fortunately, the System was there to inform him of what happened.

”Enveloping an entire realm with power... I really thought it would be difficult as he said,” Rex uttered aloud, surprised that the Warden could do it so easily. ”I really shouldn’t underestimate the people under the Weaver of Time. All of them must be incredibly powerful, even within the God Realm. Heck, they might be even stronger than some Gods.”

Rex was sure that the Weaver of Time was one of the most powerful Gods.

So naturally, his direct people would also be extremely powerful.

And though Rex didn’t know exactly how the Warden had enveloped the Mortal Realm with such ease, as casually as turning the page of a book, he had a guess in mind. At this moment—he understood that the Mortal Realm was a realm shared by multiple Gods.

One being the Lunirich Gods.

It was proven by how diverse the Supernatural races in it are.

And the supernatural races within the Mortal Realm tied to them were their source of divinity.

Exactly like the Cavity to the Overseer of Realms.

Knowing that—the Mortal Realm must be an arable realm that produced divinity points for the Gods.

Even so, the Weaver of Time’s reach extended through all lesser realms—and a vast portion of the God Realm. And naturally, his grasp was already in there, woven into the fabric of time there, which meant he or those under him could influence that realm if they wanted to.

So, the Warden could easily do the favour through that.

To tamper with the Mortal Realm was, by right, to tamper with the possessions of other Gods.

But that’s beside the point.

Rex smiled inwardly and then closed his eyes.

Since the most important favour was already fulfilled by the Warden, he could now rest assured that the Mortal Realm was safer and fully focused on his training. He could fully focus on winning the Purgation Duel that would determine his fate in the God Realm.

Time flowed faster here.

Rex couldn’t really feel it, but his premonition was telling him that something was strange.

A subtle pressure that was invisible to the senses, but somehow could still be felt through the heart.

Even the smallest movement he made felt like it was different. Clearing his throat didn’t do much for him as the soreness returned. Moving his arm slightly made that motion feel extremely familiar, like he had been doing that movement countless times.

Somehow, his thoughts also seemed to race ahead of his body.

Around him, the Temporal Labyrinth churned—its green-tinged void hummed with accelerated hours, but his perception remained anchored to his own internal clock. His body stayed normal. His heartbeat kept its steady rhythm.

But everything he did within this space carried greater weight.

Every action, attempt, failure compounded upon itself in the compressed river of time.

Such growth put an enormous strain that pressed into his mind, threatening to crush his brain. A constant violent throb that threatened to blossom into a headache. Rex ignored it, or rather, tried to ignore it. He had not come this far to be stopped by mere discomfort.

He had too much to lose to be overwhelmed by something as mundane as pain and suffering.

For throughout his life, those factors had always been loyal enemies.

Now, they had become his constant companions.

Rex’s goal within this space was only one—to increase his mastery over the Pure God Sense skill.

True mastery. Not the clumsy approximations he had managed before to sense immortal energy, but the real thing. Being able to sense immortal energy as naturally as he sensed the scent and heartbeat of his shuddering prey.

During the first few hours, his focus and meditation yielded nothing.

He sat on the platform, eyes closed, surrounded by the void, and then reached out with his senses alone. Senses that had never been designed for this kind of perception. The immortal energy was everywhere in this realm—it saturated the labyrinth, thick as fog, woven into the very fabric of the space.

And yet he couldn’t grasp it.

Even though it was completely full, his senses couldn’t pick it up.

What he felt from the immortal energy around him was not sensation but premonition.

A whisper at the edge of awareness, and a phantom at the periphery of his senses. It was the feeling of knowing something was there without being able to prove it through his senses that it was real, and the frustration of it gnawed at him.

Rex pushed deeper.

By the fourth hour, something shifted. Not a breakthrough—not yet—but a crack in the wall. Rex’s senses brushed against a deeper dimensionality of energy, a deeper layer of reality that existed beneath the surface of the physical world.

It was like looking through water and suddenly realizing there was a second sea beneath the first.

One that was darker and stranger, filled with things that did not obey the rules of the surface.

And within that deeper space, he saw them. Strands of perfectly pure white energy, impossibly fine, woven through the labyrinth like threads of light through a tapestry. They were there. He could finally see them, but he could not lock onto them.

Could not feel them, could not reach across the gap between seeing and sensing.

It followed the same principle as a werewolf’s kingly energy—a power derived solely for one monstrous race, untouchable by any other. A human could not summon it. A Supernatural of another race could not wield it.

Or like a normal person trying to peer into the soul of another and bend it to their will, when only those born with special eyes and special abilities could even perceive the existence of souls and control them. Just incompatible, or even non-existent for the normal person.

Rex was standing at the threshold of something that was not meant for him.

And his senses were rebelling against the intrusion.

But he did not stop. Seeing was not enough. He needed to feel.

More hours bled together. Ten passed. Perhaps more.

At this point, the strain was a constant companion now, a pressure that wrapped around his skull and squeezed, but he had learned to breathe through it, to let the pain become background noise. And then—finally, impossibly—his senses touched the tip of one pure-white strand.

Rex’s body shivered as the sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt.

It was radiantly warm, a gentle, sunlit heat that spread through his awareness like honey poured into a wound. And at the same time, it was also cold—a deep, crystalline cold, the kind that lived in the space between stars, ancient and patient and utterly indifferent.

The two sensations should have contradicted each other, but they didn’t.

They coexisted in perfect, impossible harmony.

And the moment Rex felt even that faint trace of immortal energy, something stirred in the deepest part of him. An itch. A hunger. A place inside his core that he had never sensed before—never even known existed, and it was being touched for the first time. Satiated.

It was fleeting and barely, but this pace of growth was incredible.

Rex opened his eyes—the green void of the Temporal Labyrinth swam around him, and the pure-white strands still hung in the deeper space beyond his vision. He could sense them now. Just the edges. Just the barest whisper of their presence.

But it was rapid progress; the first real step had been taken.

Despite reaching this threshold, he didn’t stop right there and continued his meditation.

Around the thirty-hour mark, Rex opened his eyes again.

Now, the immortal energy was registered in his senses, but any motion dispersed that connection entirely.

Just how hard is it to sense immortal energy?

At this point, the thirty hours he spent meditating were equivalent to more than twenty years, and yet his senses were still unable to really be attuned to immortal energy. Even though he had followed the clear path the System laid out by gathering ten-thousand divinity points first, he still couldn’t reach perfect mastery.

”No... The System was never wrong, so I must be missing something here.”

Swish—!

A vortex tore open in the green void without a whisper of warning.

Immortal energy spiraled at its heart, and a sphere of condensed time screamed toward him. Rex sensed it at the last sliver of a breath and hurled himself aside. He moved in time as the sphere struck and then exploded, freezing the area of the blast grey and dead.

More came. A volley. His body moved faster than thought, premonition bridging the gaps his new senses left behind. He ducked, rolled, vaulted from platform to platform while the spheres detonated behind him in silent blooms of frozen time.

A dozen chased him, a relentless storm, and he evaded them all,

As a werewolf, his instinct and reflexes were his strongest part, and this was nothing.

Once the barrage ceased, he landed softly with steady breaths. And then, understanding struck him like a lightning strike. The spheres weren’t punishment. They were a whetstone. Each time he sensed one—and reacted, his senses became sharper, attuned to immortal energy with brutal efficiency.

Rex got help.

Seemed like someone was watching and couldn’t help but give him a hand.

A chuckle bubbled up from his chest—feral, bright, unhinged.

It slowly escalated into a full blow laughter.

The transformation ripped through him in answer. Bones cracked and reshaped, dark fur swallowed his skin, and fangs gleamed—as his tongue lolled free. Rex reshaped into his werewolf form and then threw back his head and howled his joy into the void.

”I can feel it!” Rex roared with a maniacal laughter in his throat. ”I can finally feel immortal energy!”