The Omnipotent System

The moment the Albert family set foot in the Primordial Chaos Sect, Laden's senses were immediately overwhelmed. The air was thick with energy, so potent it was almost stifling, pressing against him like the weight of an invisible hand. It was a power he hadn't felt in a long time, and it tugged at his instincts.

His sharp golden eyes swept across the valley, narrowing as he absorbed the sight of the towering mountains and the ancient trees that seemed to hum with mana. His lips curled upward into a faint, tight-lipped smile, but his eyes remained cold, calculating. There was no joy in the smile, only a grudging recognition.

The power here was undeniable.

Adams stood off to the side, leaning casually against a smooth stone wall carved into the mountainside. His dark robes fluttered slightly in the breeze, the fabric catching on the edges of the stone. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched Laden with an air of relaxed indifference, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

His face was unreadable, betraying no emotion as his fingers idly twirled the Soul Prisoning Treasure between them. The faint, ghostly light from the trapped souls reflected off his knuckles, casting eerie shadows that danced across his face. He seemed detached, his mind elsewhere, as though the conversation to come was merely a mild distraction from weightier thoughts.

Laden took a slow breath, his chest rising as he inhaled the rich, mana-saturated air. He felt the power here, the potential bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the right cultivator to harness it. His gaze flitted across the valley once more, lingering on the disciples in the distance. Though they were far below his level, he could see the strength they had yet to unlock.

His eyes gleamed with something akin to envy, though he quickly masked it. The potential for growth here was undeniable.

"You've got yourself a nice sect here," Laden finally muttered, his voice carrying a note of reluctant respect. His posture was tense, his shoulders drawn tight as if he was forcing himself to offer the compliment. Laden was not the type to hand out praise freely, especially to someone like Adams. But even he couldn't deny the power radiating from this place.

Adams didn't move, his expression unchanged. His eyes remained half-lidded, and the faint smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth was barely perceptible. He continued to twirl the Soul Prisoning Treasure absentmindedly, as though Laden's words were little more than background noise to him.

Laden's smile faltered for a split second, his eyes flicking to Adams' face, searching for a reaction. When none came, he pressed on, his voice growing more confident, almost challenging. "Even if they're not at my level yet, with this kind of environment, it won't be long before they catch up." His chuckle was low, but there was a sharpness to it. "If I were to stay here, I'd advance without effort.

A smooth sail."

For the first time, Adams tilted his head slightly, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips. He didn't bother to speak, though. His fingers drummed idly against the Soul Prisoning Treasure, the soft clinking sound filling the brief silence. His eyes flickered down to the trapped souls, watching as they swirled lazily inside the relic.

The light from the souls cast a faint glow on his face, but his expression remained unreadable, almost bored.

Laden shifted on his feet, the silence pressing in on him. His earlier confidence wavered ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. His jaw clenched, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, his frustration mounting. He wasn't used to being ignored, least of all by someone like Adams.

Adams finally pushed off the wall with a slow, almost lazy motion. His posture was languid, but there was a sharpness to his movements, an underlying power that wasn't lost on Laden. Crossing his arms again, this time more deliberately, Adams raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling on Laden with the weight of silent command.

"Out with it," Adams said, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable authority. His sharp eyes locked onto Laden's, piercing through the facade of confidence with ease. "Stop stalling."

Laden tensed, his body going rigid as the weight of Adams' presence bore down on him. His lips parted, but no words came out. He clenched his fists at his sides, the skin over his knuckles stretching tight. The question had been burning inside him since they arrived, gnawing at his mind, but voicing it felt like a weakness he couldn't afford.

Adams' eyes flicked briefly to the Soul Prisoning Treasure in his hand. The trapped souls flickered, their faint whispers lost in the thick air of the valley. He frowned slightly, as though contemplating the relic's purpose. His thoughts danced between possibilities—resurrection, reincarnation, or perhaps passing them on to Cresil, who had far more experience manipulating souls.

But none of the options felt quite right.

Laden shifted uncomfortably, the silence now suffocating. His earlier bravado had crumbled under Adams' silent scrutiny, leaving him exposed. His fingers twitched, betraying the question that had been clawing at his mind. He glanced at the relic in Adams' hand, and for a moment, his green eyes flickered with something akin to desperation.

Adams watched him closely, his sharp gaze catching every subtle movement, every flicker of emotion that crossed Laden's face. With a low sigh, Adams uncrossed his arms, his fingers flexing briefly before settling into his pockets. His patience was thinning.

"Ask the question," Adams said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. There was an edge to his tone now, a subtle impatience that Laden couldn't ignore. Adams' gaze bore into him, unrelenting. "You're dying to know, so stop wasting time."

Laden stiffened, his fists clenching harder at his sides. He hated feeling cornered, but Adams' words left no room for retreat. His jaw tightened, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. His breath came out in short bursts as he fought to keep his composure.

Finally, with a slow, deliberate breath, Laden lifted his chin, meeting Adams' gaze head-on. His golden eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now flickered with something raw, something vulnerable that he couldn't hide any longer.

"What happened to her?" Laden's voice was low, almost a whisper, but the intensity behind the words was undeniable. His lips barely moved as he spoke, as though the question had been ripped from him unwillingly. "How is she alive? Or… what price did you pay to get her back?"

Adams remained still, his gaze never wavering as he studied Laden's face. He didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them, thick and heavy. The souls within the treasure flickered again, swirling with a renewed energy, as if sensing the rising tension.

Adams' gaze darkened, his eyes flickering with an intensity that made the air feel heavy. His fingers, which had been idly twirling the Soul Prisoning Treasure, stilled as he straightened his posture, a quiet but undeniable authority radiating from him. The corners of his mouth twisted into a faint smirk, though his voice remained calm, almost cold.

"I didn't do anything," he said slowly, each word laced with an undercurrent of power. His eyes bored into Laden, as if daring him to challenge the truth. "I didn't pay any price. I simply have the power to resurrect her, and I did." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "You can ask her yourself if you want, but all it took was a snap of my fingers.

She was alive again—stronger than before."

His lips curved slightly as if the thought of such power amused him, but his expression remained hard, unyielding. Then, his gaze sharpened, a glint of something darker lurking beneath his calm facade. "And one more thing," he added, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. "I'm not the favored son of the heavens."

For a moment, his eyes drifted away, a flicker of something distant crossing his features—an unspoken memory. His thoughts shifted to his sister, Arianna, the anger simmering just beneath the surface as her abduction replayed in his mind. He clenched his fist, barely controlling the surge of emotion, but when his gaze returned to Laden, it was cold and lethal.

"I'm about to destroy the heavens."

There was a finality to his words, like a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury. Laden's eyes widened slightly, though he quickly masked his surprise, his posture stiffening in response to the chilling aura that now surrounded Adams.

Before the tension could settle too deeply, a soft voice broke the silence. Aria, who had been standing quietly nearby, stepped forward. Her expression was soft but strained, worry etched deeply into her features. Her lips pressed into a thin line before she spoke, her eyes reflecting a mix of love and concern.

"He's right," she said softly, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. But there was a weight to her words, a heaviness that betrayed the emotions she was struggling to contain. Her hands twisted together in front of her, fingers clasping and unclasping as if searching for comfort in the movement.

"But now isn't the time to get into the details," she added, her gaze flickering briefly to Adams before settling on the distant horizon, her eyes clouding with concern. "We have to get Arianna."

Her voice wavered ever so slightly, but her resolve remained strong. She lifted her chin, but there was a deep sorrow in her eyes, a mother's pain that she could not hide. "From what Lokk told me just now, my daughter has been with those demons for thousands of years."

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she continued, "I don't know if she's even in her right state of mind anymore... or what they might have done to her." Her voice cracked on the last word, but she quickly gathered herself, blinking back the moisture in her eyes.

The love of a mother shone through her expression—a love so fierce and desperate it seemed to soften the air around her, even in the face of unimaginable pain. She forced a tight, determined smile, though the edges wavered with the weight of her worry.