Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 4359: The Farmer’s Greeting IV

It was beautiful to witness, even when that emerging personality was suggesting he seduce powerful beings for research purposes.

But as Noah turned his attention away from RUINEDEN’s mischievous recommendations, he noticed a presence that had materialized beside him while he’d been focused on internal conversation.

Elyndra.

She stood silently, her vibrant form radiating that particular authority of nine Principles operating in harmony, her blue eyes fixed on the golden tree with expression that suggested she was lost in thought rather than observing her surroundings.

She seemed... sad.

Not overtly, not dramatically, but carrying weight of someone wrestling with internal conflict that had no satisfying resolution.

Noah silently gazed at her.

---

Elyndra stood beside Noah, her consciousness focused on the golden tree that truly represented collaboration in its purest form.

But her thoughts were elsewhere, cycling through everything that had led to this moment...her father’s condition, the task he’d assigned her, the conflict between what she believed and what necessity demanded.

She knew her father.

Had known him for eons, when he’d been powerful enough, when his cultivation had brought him to threshold of that fundamental distinction.

He had lived his whole life aligned with what was right. With what it meant to be good.

Saving as many Fold Dwellers as possible, creating sanctuary for those who had nowhere else to go, even allowing inclusion of Living Existences despite their historical prejudice against Fold Dwellers as lesser beings.

He had done everything according to principles that agricultural cultivation had taught him...that growth came through nurturing rather than exploitation, that collaboration produced better results than competition, that patience and care yielded harvests that force and haste could never achieve.

And where had it gotten him?

Shattered by THE Living Emotive, reduced to weakness that made even standing difficult, poisoned against healing that might restore what had been destroyed.

Horrible beings like THE Living Emotive did what they wanted with impunity and without any consequences. They acted according to pure malice refined into authority, and existence itself seemed to reward them for it rather than punish them.

THE Creature was supposed to be the one to balance things out. To keep THE Living Paradox in check, to prevent THE Living Existences from becoming monsters who consumed everything in pursuit of their own advancement.

And yet even he was nowhere to be seen. Absent when needed most, leaving beings like her father to suffer consequences of system that rewarded cruelty over compassion.

Her father was...tired.

Tired of doing things the right way and watching it accomplish nothing. Tired of being good while others thrived through being terrible.

Tired of principles that felt increasingly like chains rather than guidance.

She understood why he was suggesting they take what they needed from Noah rather than negotiating for it. Why he believed collaboration wouldn’t work, that force was necessary, that adopting methods of THE Living Existences was only path forward.

He knew he could try collaboration. Maybe it would finally work out. Maybe Noah would be reasonable, would give up Perpetual Harvest willingly, would help restore what THE Living Emotive had destroyed.

But her Father... was tired of maybes.

He wanted certainty, like THE Living Emotive possessed. Success, like THE Living Paradox had achieved. Power that couldn’t be taken away, accumulated through methods that worked regardless of whether they were right or wrong.

And how did THE Living Existences succeed?

By taking what they wanted.

Elyndra felt sadness crystallize in her chest, heavy and cold.

She didn’t believe it. Her very existence told her they should be forging their own Way, advancing according to principles they chose rather than imitating paths that others had walked.

To build their Civilization, it should be done according to their own methods. Their own understanding. Their own values.

They shouldn’t deviate to follow how others proceeded. Shouldn’t take hints from The Way of beings they opposed. Shouldn’t become the thing they resisted just because it seemed effective.

Her father was doing exactly that...abandoning his Way in favor of methods that had brought THE Living Existences success but had also made them into monsters.

And if he did that, if he truly went about things through betrayal and theft rather than cultivation and collaboration...

He may have forever lost his Way.

He may have corrupted it beyond recovery, because even if he obtained Perpetual Harvest through deception, even if he restored his power through stolen Principle...

He would never reach THE.

Because he wouldn’t have done it his Way. He would have achieved it through imitation of methods that were fundamentally opposed to everything his cultivation had been built upon.

But she couldn’t find herself able to tell her father that she thought his Way may have gotten irreparably damaged. That his desperate attempt to restore what was lost might actually guarantee he could never reclaim what truly mattered.

How could she say such things to someone who was dying? Who had sacrificed everything for principles that had brought him nothing but suffering? Who deserved rest and restoration rather than philosophical lectures about corruption of purpose?

So what could she do?

Stand beside him as he destroyed himself trying to save himself? Refuse his request and watch him die knowing she could have helped but chose not to? Try to change his mind when exhaustion and pain had made him incapable of hearing arguments about long-term consequences?

There were no good options.

Only varieties of betrayal...of Osmont, of her father, or of herself.

At this time, Noah’s calm voice cut through her spiral of internal conflict.

”You seem sad.”

The observation was delivered without judgment, without prying curiosity, just simple acknowledgment of what was obvious to anyone paying attention.

Elyndra turned to look at him, finding his expression calm.

”Yeah,” she replied, allowing honesty to color her voice. ”I am a bit melancholic and sad. Existence... can be unfair. Very, very unfair.”

Noah nodded, his gaze returning to the golden tree.

”Yes, it is unfair,” he said, his tone carrying acceptance rather than complaint. ”But from that unfairness comes struggle, and from that struggle... wonders can bloom.”

...!

The words landed with weight that made Elyndra pause.

From unfairness comes struggle, and from struggle comes wonders.

It was perspective she needed to hear, reminder that hardship wasn’t just obstacle but potentially catalyst.

That the difficulties her father faced, that she faced, that everyone struggled against...they weren’t just barriers to overcome but conditions that could produce achievements impossible under easier circumstances.

She sighed, nodding slowly as she focused more fully on Noah.

Maybe there was still path forward that didn’t require betrayal. Maybe collaboration could work if she presented it properly. Maybe...

”...”

No.

She stopped herself. No more maybes. Time to be direct.

”While my Father is in the state he is in,” she began, her voice taking on more formal tones, ”it does not mean his efforts are diminished any less. His Sanctuary still has countless things to offer.”

She gestured broadly to encompass the fields around them.

”One of the major offerings...the Produce that the Living Existences you came with were planned to be given...grants 1000 Quadrillion Complexity and Purity or more per consumption.”

WAA!

”The trade-off is that it completely limits one’s advancement and potential thereafter. It’s shortcut to immense power, but it’s also ceiling that can never be exceeded. Those who consume Father’s highest-tier Produce gain tremendous immediate strength but sacrifice all future growth.”

She continued detailing other achievements, her voice warming with pride despite her earlier melancholy.

”We also have Seeds that can be used as weapons- projectiles that move faster than even the perception of entities exceeding 1 or 3 Quintillion in power. When triggered, they explode with force that could collapse beings with 3 or 4 Quintillion Complexity and Purity.”

Her eyes found Noah’s, holding his gaze with intensity.

”We have techniques for nurturing Principles that predate modern cultivation methods. We have knowledge about THE Living Existences that few outside the Earliest Folds possess. We have resources accumulated over eons of careful agricultural development.”

She paused, then delivered what she clearly considered the most important information.

”With the coming Fallout,” she said, her voice carrying weight of confession, ”my Father believes it is only possible to overcome it by having an entity at the distinction of THE. Which is... an impossibility almost, given current circumstances and timelines.”

”So he nurtured me. At my peak, with the inherent nature of my existence and nine converging Principles, if I use enough nurturing from other sources- collapsed weavings of Prime Dead Early Creatures, the Existential Armors they forge, other complex atrocities that contain concentrated power...I can reach a state of THE False Harvest. A False part of My Way.”

She paused, making sure he understood the significance.

”Momentary. False. Unstable. But I can achieve such power briefly,” she continued. ”Burning up everything accumulated, sacrificing all reserves, pushing beyond normal limits...the moment The Fallout descends, I could protect this Sanctuary and those within it.”

Her blue eyes blazed with determination mixed with desperation.

”We do not have to become The Dead to survive,” she said, her voice carrying conviction. ”This was my father’s goal. This was what all his cultivation aimed toward.”

She took a breath, then delivered what was clearly request that mattered more than anything else.

”I would be immensely grateful if we can work together to achieve this goal.”

...!