Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse

Chapter 4479: Iskhus III

The First Farmer said that he heard the voice of THE Creature.

Noah gazed at him calmly, waiting.

The First Farmer continued with a voice of weight of recovered memory.

”In that state of collapse and emergence, I cannot accurately measure how much time passed across existence entirely. But for me personally, it felt instantaneous.”

He paused, golden eyes distant.

”In that instant, I remember the voice of THE Creature, the same voice I encountered in the past. That voice said to me simply...find my Early Veiled Shore.”

...!

Find my Early Veiled Shore!

Noah looked closely at The First Farmer as he tilted his head with an expression mixing curiosity and frustration.

”That’s it? That’s the entirety of the message?”

The First Farmer nodded simply.

”That’s it.”

”...”

Noah continued gazing at The First Farmer with deliberate calmness as his mind worked through potential implications and interpretations.

”THE Creature couldn’t add a few more words? Add a sentence or two to provide some measure of clarity? Perhaps a helpful direction or specific instruction?”

”...”

The First Farmer simply looked at him with expression suggesting he shared identical frustration.

Neither possessed answers.

Eventually The First Farmer’s eyes blazed with a light combining effort and accumulated majesty as he articulated his speculation.

”THE Creature represents the entity who was demonstrably strongest amongst all THE beings. Even if THE Living Paradox and THE Living Emotive, alongside any others who aligned with their conspiracy, successfully plotted against him... THE Creature would still possess numerous means of survival and contingency.”

His voice carried conviction.

”Maybe the genuine answer to surviving The Fallout resides within his Early Veiled Shore. Maybe that cryptic message contains everything necessary if we can only decipher it properly.”

...!

Noah smiled coldly and shook his head as he absorbed this speculation from The First Farmer.

Maybe.

He was hearing that particular word with increasing frequency lately.

When Khor had used it, the uncertainty seemed almost endearing...cute, even.

But as more and more maybes accumulated without resolution...

It was rapidly ceasing to be something he enjoyed encountering.

He looked toward The First Farmer before speaking with direct inquiry.

”Do you possess any tangible clues regarding where to commence an investigation? Any contextual details from your interaction with THE Creature that might prove relevant?”

The First Farmer shook his head with genuine regret.

”No. I shared but a single extended conversation with THE Creature before my collapse. My knowledge remains frustratingly limited.”

His expression shifted to earnest appeal.

”But with your aid and combined resources... I feel confident we can both substantially increase our respective chances of survival...not merely for ourselves but for our people as well.”

His voice carried weight of responsibility.

”I have countless entities across my Sanctuary who look toward me for guidance and protection. I have my daughter to whom I must make proper amends. I’m certain you possess your own responsibilities and people dependent upon your continued existence.”

He gestured expansively:

”I have just embarked upon establishing my Civilization of Effort. Now I must systematically forge it into something capable of enduring what approaches. For the benefit of both our Civilizations... collaboration can only increase and elevate our collective capabilities.”

His golden eyes met Noah’s directly.

”Are we able to let bygones be bygones and commence on entirely new page? Can we move forward as genuine allies rather than suspicious acquaintances?”

The First Farmer articulated these words with calm earnestness.

Noah listened without interruption and did not require extended deliberation before simply nodding with acceptance.

He sighed and looked around the Sanctuary before speaking.

”The more the merrier in this band of unfortunate survivors attempting to defy impossible odds. Tend to your Sanctuary and those who mourned believing you permanently collapsed.”

His voice carried finality.

”I will bring your daughter back to see you soon enough.”

With such words, Noah disappeared.

Space folded around him and he was simply gone.

The First Farmer remained floating alone.

He gazed at the Sanctuary that had mourned him not long ago.

He was still The First Farmer at his core.

But now he was filled with immeasurable effort given conscious form.

And with every effort invested came even more unfathomable harvest as consequence.

I may not have succeeded in obtaining Perpetual Harvest directly...

But I was able to forge successfully the counterpart that was functionally equivalent.

Perpetual Effort.

He smiled with expression mixing sadness and profound satisfaction as he contemplated this truth.

His voice emerged as philosophical musing directed at existence itself.

”Effort and harvest exist as two faces of singular principle. One cannot exist without the other across any meaningful duration.”

He looked at the expanse before him, not merely Sanctuary anymore, but Civilization.

”The farmer who plants seeds without effort produces no harvest. The farmer who exerts tremendous effort but fails to harvest wastes accumulated potential. But the farmer who understands that effort is harvest...that the act of cultivation itself represents fruit regardless of outcome...”

His eyes shone with golden light.

”That farmer transcends simple success or failure. That farmer embodies the eternal cycle itself. Plant. Tend. Fail. Learn. Plant again. Tend better. Fail differently. Learn more. Persist.”

He spread his arms wide.

”This is the Way of Effort. This is what I will teach to all who join my Civilization. Success matters less than persistence. Harvest matters less than cultivation. Results matter less than the willingness to continue despite results.”

His smile widened.

”And through that perpetual effort... harvest becomes inevitable. Perhaps not the harvest initially envisioned. Perhaps not the harvest desired. But harvest nonetheless...fruit born from persistence itself! Oh!”

HUUM!

He descended toward his Civilization with renewed purpose.

Time to begin forging something worthy of surviving what approaches...

---

At this moment in time.

In Noah’s Early Veiled Shore.

The atmosphere within the vast continental landscape pulsed with vibrant energy that made the entire territory seem alive with concentrated authority.

The inhabitants carried distinct auras and colors radiating from their bodies that identified their Specialization paths immediately.

To match the three different Specializations currently available, the factions of The Iron Concordat, The Crimson Hunger, and The Verdant Cycle...different clusters of entities shone with corresponding brilliance.

Obsidian-gold radiance marked those who had chosen defensive paths.

Crimson-gold intensity identified offensive specialists whose presence made surrounding space tremble.

Verdant-gold luminescence surrounded support-oriented entities who pulsed with restorative authority.

Defensive, offensive, and support type entities whose attire now reflected their chosen factions!

The Specializations made everyone seem substantially more vibrant, more alive as they communicated enthusiastically with each other regarding optimal methods to leverage their collective capabilities.

Discussions occurred everywhere!

”If three hundred Bulwarks establish the Fortress Formation while Hungering Maws attack...”

”Vital Chorus members should maintain Life-Binding with all frontline specialists to enable instant resurrection...”

”Damage Conversion from Bulwarks feeding directly into Hungering Maws...hey, why not feed all collected damage to a single entity rather than spread it around? Could maybe The Master unleash all devoured damage in the hundreds of Sextillions?”

...!

The entire Shore buzzed with mounting excitement.

Within the influence of the Crimson Hunger Sovereign Spire of Osmont, two figures stood observing the organized chaos.

These two were the humanoid form of Hyperion and... Bob!

Little Bobby!

Hyperion maintained his characteristically cold gaze as he calmly observed everything with analytical detachment.

He turned slightly and happened to notice Bob standing nearby.

Bob looked distinctly forlorn and frustrated...his expression suggesting he’d just experienced personal defeat.

When Hyperion followed Bob’s gaze to identify what provoked such reaction...

He saw the figures of Henry talking vibrantly with two young women.

Henry was laughing, gesturing animatedly, clearly enjoying himself immensely.

Hyperion raised his eyebrows at such scene.

Even though he genuinely didn’t want to engage in conversation...

He forced himself to speak since proximity made silence awkward.

”Did you attempt to compete with the son of our monstrous Leader in pursuing romantic interest and subsequently lose? That represents a losing battle from inception, my friend.”

...!

At such words, Bob turned toward Hyperion with visible scowl.

”One of those women is my daughter. I was absent just for brief period, and this guy simply swooped in and just...”

Bob’s visage trembled with paternal frustration as words failed him.

Hyperion blinked and looked at him with an expression shifting to something approaching sympathy.

Eventually he raised his eyebrows and spoke with pragmatic observation.

”Should you not be experiencing happiness rather than distress? Within our Civilization and broader existence, is there genuinely superior choice than the son of our monstrous Leader if your daughter was to establish a connection with anyone?”

He paused deliberately.

”Or... would you rather prefer it be with The Leader himself?”

...!

At such casually delivered statement, Bob visibly shuddered as if experiencing visceral nightmare.

His round, circular bald head developed visible sweat as he nodded with rapid agreement.

”Fuck. You’re absolutely right. You’re correct. That perspective helps somewhat...”

He paused and blinked.

”Who are you again?”

Hyperion sighed with sn expression suggesting he couldn’t believe this conversation was even occurring.

”Hyperion.”

Bob nodded.

”Bob.”

Just as the two finished their perfunctory introductions, a booming voice echoed through the air with authority that made everyone stop their activities immediately.

Noah’s words rang out across the entire Early Veiled Shore with unmistakable command.

”The time has arrived to subject our Civilization to a genuine trial! There exist enemies belonging to the Primordial Civilizations that we will soon be confronting directly.”

His voice intensified.

”Those who wish to participate in this engagement... adorn your Civilizational Armor immediately. Assemble together with your respective Civilization Specialization Faction and prepare for deployment.”

The declaration carried finality.

”The adversaries you will face during this operation will be the preserved forces of THE Living Emotive and THE Living Elemental, armies that have been frozen across eons and now await elimination.”

...!

His words were booming and impossibly heavy.

All those who heard them looked upward and around as his voice seemed to echo from everywhere simultaneously, authority that couldn’t be ignored or dismissed.

Their eyes shone with mixture of anticipation and mounting determination.

Movement began blooming across the Early Veiled Shore as many responded to their Leader’s call!

Civilizational Armor manifested.

Specialists assembled with their factions.

A glorious war was coming.

And Noah’s Civilization was ready for a feast!