My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 850 - 851: Elixir Of Pseudo Immortality

The chamber was a boundless expanse of white, where massive columns ascended from a floor lost to the depths. A heavy, sacred aura saturated the air, demanding an involuntary sense of awe from anyone who stepped within its reach.

At the center of these myriad pillars, a glowing orb drifted, encircled by shimmering golden rings. Inside the sphere, a radiant fluid swirled in rhythmic, deliberate cycles, as if guided by an invisible hand.

A solitary figure entered the pale void.

Though his face remained a mask of composure, his heart was burdened. He carried a parasol, its handle trailing a delicate chain that chimed with every stride. The faint sound rang out before being swallowed by the immense silence.

He came to a halt atop a pillar near the heart of the hall, positioned close to the hovering golden sphere.

The Elixir of Pseudo Immortality.

He stared at the liquid. He had gazed upon it before, yet it never failed to stir a sense of lingering dread within him.

Legend claimed that the god Aetherus had brewed this draught himself, distilling it from the lifeblood of every lesser deity. To consume it was to attain a state of pseudo immortality.

However, its creation was birthed alongside avarice. Even the minor gods lusted for its power, leading to its entrustment to Seraph Null. The order was given to protect it here, in the same realm where the heretical god Lazarak remained shackled in the blackest depths of Eidolon, eternally barred from the sun.

Half of the supply had already been drained by Aetherus.

The survival of the world was tied to the life of the god. Thus, any method to sustain him was deemed righteous, even if it meant stacking immortality upon a being who already defied time.

But were the gods of minor worlds truly eternal?

Even planets eventually crumbled. Stars burned for eons, yet they too were destined to flicker out.

The elixir did not truly prolong one’s years; rather, it rendered the drinker nearly impossible to slay.

’If that is the case, why label it pseudo immortality?’

The truth was transparent.

Even this masterpiece by Aetherus, the god of life, possessed flaws.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he went rigid. It was heresy. His chest tightened painfully as he closed his eyes, muttering a silent plea for mercy.

He was already a sinner, standing here to face his judgment, yet he still dared to harbor such rebellious thoughts.

With a dull thud, he sank to his knees upon the stone pillar.

Before him sat the Apostles. These were Wardens like himself, beings who should have been his brothers-in-arms. Under different circumstances, he would be seated among them in a position of high honor.

Instead, he was a suppliant.

"I stand before the Apostles, humbled by my failures," he declared, his voice remaining firm despite the crushing pressure in the room.

"You have failed, Wind."

The chilling remark came from the Apostle of Fire. Embers danced across his skin, contained but simmering with intensity.

"Your blunders have insulted the entire order of Wardens and tarnished the glorious reputation of our master, Seraph Null."

He bit his lip hard. The Apostle of Fire had always held a grudge against him; this was merely a convenient moment to orchestrate his downfall.

Suppressing his resentment, he forced himself to speak.

"I am ashamed."

A splashing sound resonated as water shifted and pooled.

The Apostle of Water looked down with a sneer, her liquid form undulating.

"You are ashamed? You should be. You departed this sanctuary full of arrogance regarding that Evangel, yet despite having every advantage and superior numbers, you were defeated by a nameless nobody."

The kneeling man bowed his head lower, his muscles tensing.

That individual was far from a nobody.

He was arrogant and immensely powerful, with the skill to justify his pride. More dangerously, he possessed a charisma that could sway others without the need for coercion.

Grains of sand cascaded down the pillar where the Apostle of Earth stood. His voice was as unyielding as stone.

"News of your defeat is spreading. Our control over the branded is slipping. They have caught a glimpse of hope. They now realize that we can be beaten."

Those words pierced him more effectively than any physical weapon.

He had no defense to offer. No excuse to give.

The man had escaped him. If only he had been granted a second chance or a bit more time.

"That is enough."

The hall grew blindingly bright as the Apostle of Light intervened. His very essence was composed of shimmering, white radiance.

"Your conflict reduced several districts to rubble. Thousands perished, including the chained knights we spent vast resources to develop."

The light throbbed, pulsing with a controlled, rhythmic authority.

"The era is shifting. An increasing number of formidable entities are being locked away in our realm. Those considered too chaotic are thrown into Eidolon, but the ones remaining here are growing in strength. Their collective power now rivals what we can suppress with simple force."

The Apostle of Darkness stirred beside him, his voice sounding like a low, guttural snarl.

"They are nothing but insects."

"Those insects outnumber us a thousand to one."

Water surged as the Apostle of Water spoke again, her voice shifting to a strangely soft tone.

"We cannot permit any skepticism regarding our dominance. If we do, our entire civilization will collapse."

The Apostle of Earth leaned back, crossing his massive arms.

"And yet, we still serve the Great God Seraph Null. With his protection, their sheer numbers are irrelevant."

Mocking laughter rippled through the gathered Apostles.

Except for one.

The Apostle of Wind remained motionless on his knees.

"What if they possess a god of their own?"

The laughter was instantly extinguished.

"You are already aware," he whispered into the silence. "Lazarak is held here. And we have lost all communication with the Arch Archivist."

A heavy quiet filled the space.

"None can flee Eidolon," the Apostle of Fire snapped. "It is an impossibility. Not even for a fallen god like Lazarak."

The Apostle of Water wavered, her liquid body rippling with uncertainty.

"A reconnaissance team has already been dispatched to probe Eidolon. However, I doubt they will even manage to breach its borders."

"Then it is a waste of time," the Apostle of Earth muttered bluntly.

The Apostle of Light emitted a soft glow before resuming.

"There are strange reports coming from the city. The branded are not simply dying; they are vanishing. These disappearances are most frequent within the Grinding Gate."

"Hmph. A new rebellion," noted the Apostle of Chains, his frame wrapped in clanking iron links. "Insubordination demands a penalty."

"Deploy the knights," he added. "Thin their ranks."

The others gave their assent, their faces cold as they effectively signed the death warrants of millions.

"For the time being," the Apostle of Light concluded, "the Archivist will carry on with the investigation."

Finally, their collective gaze shifted back to the figure on the floor.

"Now," the Apostle of Fire said, his flames flaring with anticipation, "we shall discuss your punishment."