Chapter 526 - 485: Fingertip, Weaving Threads, and Divine Attribute

Chapter 526: Chapter 485: Fingertip, Weaving Threads, and Divine Attribute

’Just give me a little time... Not to confront his Authority—that would be foolish.’

Roland’s brow slowly tightened.

’I need to understand the resonance pattern between this solidified space and those "threads"... find the most subtle, possibly existing "phase difference" or "redundant vibration"...’

He could feel the wisp of resonant light at his fingertips—a mixture of defiance and a longing for this to end—"analyzing" the abnormal state of the surrounding space at an excruciatingly slow pace.

It was like a newly-forged, still-crude Engraving Blade touching the hardest Crystal Stone for the first time.

Though it couldn’t cut through it immediately, the friction allowed it to gradually sense the Crystal’s grain and the direction of its most fragile cleavage plane.

’Just a little more time to adapt, a bit more precise Perception...’

’He might not be able to break Yemiga’s control over space, but if he could just disturb it, carve a tiny, insignificant "fissure" in this "amber" to allow his finger to complete that final touch...’

’...it might not be entirely impossible.’

Just as Roland was concentrating all his focus, attempting to guide the still-unfamiliar power of the [Time Trace Weaver’s Engraving Blade] to analyze and adapt to this frozen space,

Yemiga seemed not to have noticed his covert efforts. Or... more likely, the "World Serpent" simply didn’t care about such a feeble struggle.

"Well, well..."

Yemiga let out a soft sigh.

"It seems you have no desire to satisfy my little bit of curiosity. In that case, I shall be the one to ask the questions..."

Before he had even finished speaking, Duraga, who was pinned in place by the invisible force of space, erupted in fury.

The Gray Dwarf leader glanced around. He saw that all his companions, Roland included, were stuck as if in an invisible mire, unable to move. His bronze face flushed red with rage as a low roar rumbled in his throat.

"You posturing bastard! What kind of insidious trick is this?"

The only response to his volcanic fury was a soft whisper, as casual as brushing away a speck of dust.

"Noisy."

Yemiga didn’t even glance at Duraga. He simply and casually flicked a finger in the Gray Dwarf’s direction.

THUD!

With a dull thud, Duraga’s burly body slammed forward as if his knees had been struck by an invisible sledgehammer, forcing him to kneel uncontrollably.

His knees crashed hard onto the archive’s polished stone floor with a sickening crack. He was forced into a standard, humiliating posture of submission.

"Damn it!"

Duraga’s eyes were practically bursting from their sockets.

The traumatic experience of being enslaved by Heartstealers for centuries had instilled in him a bone-deep hatred and Fear for the act of kneeling.

The corded muscles on his neck and arms bulged, straining with all his might as he tried to straighten his back.

Even the pair of Iron Gloves he wore, a symbol of the Gray Dwarven Deity Durag, sensed their wielder’s towering rage and unyielding will. They abruptly erupted in a deep, dark red glow, like the core of a furnace.

A Power, as heavy as a mountain and imbued with the Divine Attribute of forging and Struggle, tried to surge forth to help him break his bonds.

"Oh?"

For the first time, Yemiga’s gaze shifted toward the phenomenon on Duraga’s hands with a flicker of interest. His dark-yellow, slitted pupils glinted.

"Divine Favor? No... it actually contains a remnant of a true Divine Attribute? How rare. To think one can still find traces of an old god in this city that haven’t been completely ’filtered’ out."

However, his admiration was fleeting.

Yemiga made no obvious Casting motion. The finger that had flicked earlier simply pressed down, elegant and steady.

CREAK!

A sickening sound, like metal being twisted by immense force, emanated from within Duraga’s body.

The spine he had just managed to straighten slightly with the help of the divine Relic was once again bent down by an irresistible force, even lower than before.

The dark red light of the Divine Attribute flickered violently like a candle in the wind, dimming as if it were being cut off and suppressed by an invisible, "denser" Rule.

"Commendable courage."

Yemiga’s voice was devoid of any emotion.

"But you must understand that you are standing before a genuine God, not something that an incomplete Relic of a deity from a bygone era can possibly compare to."

Witnessing this, Roland’s heart sank.

He knew Duraga’s strength well. Although not on par with himself or Avril, he was a true Extraordinary Tier Warrior.

Yet before Yemiga, he was being manipulated as easily as a child. Even his struggles seemed utterly futile.

This wasn’t just a difference in Power levels; it was a complete domination based on the very essence of their beings and Authority.

’The analysis still needs a little more time...’

Roland estimated the progress of the [Time Trace Weaver’s Engraving Blade] in analyzing the frozen space around them. Seeing Duraga’s bones groaning under the immense pressure, he took a deep breath and deliberately drew Yemiga’s attention to himself.

"You were about to..."

He first shot a brief but firm glance toward Avril, Galvis, and the others, whose faces were etched with anxiety and anger, signaling them to remain calm.

Then, he met Yemiga’s inhuman, dark-yellow, slitted pupils. There was no trace of fear on his face as he spoke in a low voice. It was slightly hoarse from fighting the spatial paralysis, yet remarkably clear.

"...ask me what?"

"How very sentimental..."

At Roland’s words, Yemiga’s gaze finally shifted from the struggling Duraga and refocused on him.

He leisurely brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his cuff, his posture as elegant as if he had just finished a tea break.