Chapter 473 From the Very Beginning - I
Nostrom, an armed alchemical fortress forged by Flamelle, was not born from a desire to unleash violence.
Flamelle, who was devoted to creation, did not revel in aggression. The existence of Nostrom served merely as a deterrent to the Empress, the Flamefeast, a symbol that rendered him, a man "averse to combat", exceedingly dangerous.
It was an ultimate weapon that, under his control, could potentially annihilate even deities.
Should the main cannon of Nostrom, at full power, fire in an arc that perfectly hugs the continent's surface, it could, from east to west, cleave through the entire landmass in a single strike.
Not merely the empire, but the entire continent.
Of course, it was not possible to split the continent in two with a direct blast, for this ancient land, capable of bearing the strife of divine beings, was exceptionally thick and sturdy.
However, given time, reducing the entire continent to rubble was not beyond reach, and this was far from the limits of Nostrom's destructive capabilities—after all, this was merely the effect of a single cannonade.
When Nostrom, equipped with numerous modes and countless array blocks, operated under Flamelle's dominion to its fullest extent, the scale of devastation it could unleash was unknown and, indeed, unfathomable to all.
If there were any limitations, it would likely be that only Flamelle could wield this weapon of destruction. Even if he were to leave Nostrom to Ansel, Ansel could only access a few of its most basic functions.
After all, the empress could incinerate the entire empire in three days, and this timeframe… was what the current, senile empress could achieve under the full counterattack of all the empire's extraordinary beings.
If Ephesande were still in her prime, with her control over power at its peak, how much this period could be shortened remains uncertain.
The violence of the divine species was such that it towered over all beings, but what was more despairing was that violence was merely the most superficial manifestation of the authority they wielded.
Those supreme souls, constantly striving for ascension and evolution, were perpetually eroded by the abyss, and "the abyss" was nothing… but a name born of fear, for there existed nothing in this world that could withstand the primal flood of information of all things.
It was both a poison that eroded souls and drove men to madness, and a secret path to the infinite, to achieving the utmost heights.
Those who could draw from this endless poison to gain supreme authority and augment themselves were deemed divine.
As long as one could withstand the endless onslaught of the world's information, capture and master the rules governing the world's operation, they would naturally ascend to divinity.
Just as the ancestors of Hydral could effortlessly inscribe "the secrets of Hydral shall not be probed" into the rules of the world, as constant as the rise and fall of the sun and moon.
This was undoubtedly a power that captivated the heart and soul, an absolute strength that truly reigned supreme over all beings, an inviolable supremacy.
The cost, however, was clearly evident.
The moment Helen set foot on the Nostrom, she felt the chilling aura that enveloped this alchemical fortress.
It was an almost tangible chaos, where the air itself seemed to thicken into a twisted, maddening vortex.
The profound darkness of the abyss, born from the amalgamation of all things, revealed that when all colors merge, only black remains. Thus, the abyss does not symbolize evil per se; rather, it represents an… inescapable entrapment.
Once ensnared, one can only fall deeper until the soul is extinguished, becoming part of the abyss, and attaining a meaningless form of freedom.
The abyss holds no moral judgment, yet those who fall into it often manifest uncontrollable chaos due to their increasingly deranged minds.
Helen knew this all too well. Even without inheriting the crown, Evora's reputation for tyranny was well-known. And when Ansel arrived at Anthicheg, although she waited outside the gates, she could feel the violent and mad intentions of Ephesande, as if she intended to burn the world itself.
However… Flamelle was different. Logically, his condition should have deteriorated rapidly after Annelisa's demise, but in their encounters, Helen never sensed any unsettling madness in the old Hydral.
He was always courteous, his speech gentle, his thoughts clear... not just compared to Ephesande, but even Evora seemed worlds apart.
Yet now, the pervasive silence over the Nostrom spoke volumes—
Flamelle's condition had deteriorated drastically.
What exactly had happened in such a short time? What was Flamelle trying to create? No one knew, except Ansel.
Your journey continues with empire
"Are you feeling alright?" Ansel asked, looking at the discomforted Helen, "Just endure a little longer. Handling Ravenna's soul is not difficult for father, it will be over soon."
"Mr. Flamelle, he..."
Ansel did not respond, but even without words, Helen could guess the situation. Yet looking at Ansel, she could not discern any emotion from his profile.
Just calmness, a kind of... expected tranquility.
This calmness made Helen retract her words. The woman lowered her head, her eyes devoid of light but filled with an unshakeable resolve.
She unconsciously tightened her grip on the rope, causing Ravenna, who followed behind, to stumble.
Fully restrained and led by Helen with the rope, Ravenna, even with her mouth sealed, still fixed a piercing gaze on Ansel's back with eyes that silently declared the emotions Ansel least wanted to see—rebellion and defiance.
However, these emotions could not last long. Ravenna would become nourishment for Helen, her three years of arduous cultivation ultimately just adding to Ansel's unusual strength.
The four heroines, watched over by fate, possessed talents and abilities worthy of such favor. Seraphina, rootless and rising from the ashes, reached the pinnacle in thirty years, wielding divine power. In the realm of knowledge, Ravenna had reached a domain incomprehensible to others.
It was not for power that she was born, but to push the entire empire, the entire society, towards a new world with her knowledge. It is no exaggeration to say that when the old empire fell at the hands of the heroines, the establishment of the new world was almost solely driven by Ravenna.
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