Novel Full Chapter 298 - 298: PHOTONIC CONSTRUCT AUTHORITY
The ambient light inside the Sanctuary dimmed as a spatial rift tore through the center of the command deck. Glitch padded out of the swirling void, its black fur bristling with contained energy.
The anomaly hopped lightly onto the main console, fixing its emerald eyes on Rubedo.
Rubedo leaned forward on his throne. Glitch opened its maw, releasing a concentrated stream of golden hard-light magic directly into Rubedo's chest.
The familiar, searing heat of his own stolen essence flooded his veins. The golden magic rushed through his neural pathways, attempting to mend the jagged edges of his metaphysical trauma.
However, the sensation quickly stagnated. Because Julian and Julia's magic was deeply intertwined, extracting only the brother's power left the returning energy hollow and lopsided.
The fragmented essence failed to fully crystallize within his core.
A holographic interface flickered to life in front of his eyes, casting a blue glow over the dark command deck.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: INCOMPLETE SOUL SIGNATURE DETECTED WITHIN SUMMON. ]
[ INITIATING PARTIAL ORIGIN REINTEGRATION... ]
[ HOST STATUS: SOUL INTEGRITY REMAINS AT 42.8% (6 / 14 FRAGMENTS RECLAIMED). ]
[ ERROR: SOUL FRAGMENT CANNOT BE FULLY RESTORED WITHOUT MATCHING RESONANCE (1/2 PAIR ASSIMILATED). ]
[ ASSIMILATING RETAINED HARD-LIGHT DATA FROM DEVOURED HERALD... ]
[ NEW PASSIVE TRAIT UNLOCKED: PHOTONIC CONSTRUCT AUTHORITY (INCOMPLETE) ]
[ DESCRIPTION: Host can instantly materialize hard-light barriers using ambient mana. Constructs are highly resistant to magic penetration and can reflect low-tier physical damage, but lack the spatial-stabilization properties of the completed fragment. ]
Rubedo read the cascading blue text and dismissed the glowing window with a wave of his hand. He raised his right palm toward the reinforced glass of the observation deck.
A hexagonal shield of pure golden light materialized instantly in the air, illuminating the shadows of the sanctuary. He tapped the floating construct with his knuckles, listening to the metallic ring echoing off the hardened light.
He didn't recover the actual piece of his soul, but the defensive utility was still firmly in his grasp. He closed his fist, shattering the golden shield into dozens of harmless sparks that faded before they hit the floor.
Rubedo rested his chin on his hand, shifting his gaze back to the tactical map displaying the pacified Fourth Continent. The capital of Aethelgard belonged to him. Tarnstead was broken. Gildreath had submitted without drawing a single blade.
Only seven pair rebellious Earthlings remained unaccounted for, scurrying through the frozen dark beneath Tarnstead's ruins like rats.
Rubedo leaned back in his throne and expanded the macro-tactical map floating above the console. He zoomed in on a winding mountain pass connecting the newly conquered borders of Gildreath to the ruined capital of Tarnstead.
A Vanguard supply column crawled through the narrow gorge, hauling heavy carts of processed alchemical iron and crates of nutrient paste to reinforce the frontline garrisons.
'Let us see if this holds up over a planetary distance,' Rubedo thought.
He tapped the primary interface, linking his mana core directly to the orbital broadcast arrays. The sanctuary hummed as it drew the hard-light energy from his chest and funneled it down through the atmospheric tether.
Down on the surface, the Vanguard convoy navigated the rocky terrain. Armored transport beetles dragged the loaded wagons while infantry marched steadily alongside them. The gorge walls sloped sharply on both sides, casting deep shadows that perfectly obscured the jagged ridges above.
A brass horn echoed through the valley. Hundreds of hidden Tarnstead loyalists stood up from their concealed positions along the cliff edges. These desperate soldiers had survived the initial siege by fleeing into the mountains, and now they sought to sever the Vanguard's logistical lifelines.
They raised heavy steel crossbows and readied destructive fire spells, aiming directly at the unshielded cargo.
"Loose the volley!" a loyalist captain screamed, dropping his sword toward the valley floor.
A dense cloud of steel bolts and flaming projectiles plummeted toward the wagons. Before the first arrow could pierce the cargo, the air above the convoy warped with a brilliant flash.
Golden hexagonal panels materialized out of thin air, interlocking seamlessly to form a continuous canopy of hard-light over the entire Vanguard column. The crossbow bolts struck the glowing shields and instantly shattered into useless splinters.
The fire magic splashed harmlessly against the barriers, dispersing into fading embers without leaving a single scorch mark on the iron carts.
The Vanguard infantry did not even flinch at the sudden ambush. They calmly raised their pneumatic bolt-throwers and locked their sights onto the upper ridges.
Up in the sanctuary, Rubedo watched the telemetry data scroll across his screen. The Photonic Construct Authority stabilized flawlessly across the macro-grid.
It required surprisingly little mana upkeep to maintain the shields against such low-tier physical damage. He rested his chin on his knuckles, satisfied with the results.
"Drop the barriers and return fire," Rubedo transmitted through the network. "Leave no survivors."
The golden shields vanished perfectly in sync with the Vanguard's retaliation. Hundreds of pneumatic bolts tore upward into the cliffs with terrifying precision.
The loyalist soldiers fell from the ridges, their bodies tumbling down the steep rock faces to crash onto the gorge floor.
The Vanguard infantry quickly stepped forward to execute anyone who survived the fall, securing the valley in a matter of minutes.
Rubedo dismissed the tactical window. The defensive network operated exactly as intended, permanently securing his supply routes across the Fourth Continent.
He turned his attention back to the communication array, waiting for his connection to Novus and Hawl to establish. His external borders were finally fortified, meaning he could focus his full attention on purging the remaining Earthlings from the capital's sewers.
Krug rested his iron greataxe against the stone railing of the palace balcony. Below them, Vanguard infantry systematically secured the main thoroughfares of Gildreath, moving in perfect unison while the local guards relinquished their weapons into growing piles.
The transition of power proceeded smoothly, with supply carts already distributing nutrient paste to the starving crowds.
Krug turned his gaze toward the eastern horizon, where jagged mountain peaks gave way to deep, mist-shrouded lowlands. He pointed a scaled claw toward the distant terrain.
"Aethelgard is a graveyard. Tarnstead is conquered. Gildreath belongs to the Spiral." Krug looked over his shoulder at Kronos, who stood silently watching his city adapt to the new regime. "That leaves only the Morval Dynasty. You abandoned Voranthar's coalition alongside their three kings. Will they submit to Rubedo, or do I need to march my army into their territory?"