Chapter 298 - 299: Catching Up 2

Chapter 298: Chapter 299: Catching Up 2

If he managed to arrive at the Pseudo-Paragon’s territory, she would deal with him then. If he interfered, she would remove him. If he watched, he could learn the difference between him and a Paragon even if it was a clone.

Either outcome was acceptable.

She increased her speed slightly.

The void tore open around her.

---

Deep within the Reliquary, the Ancient Will observed both movements with cold focus.

Two streaks crossed the layer. One cold and ancient, carrying the weight of a Paragon’s will. The other golden-white, burning with runic authority and stubborn defiance.

The Will had expected the clone to move. It had not expected Runar to chase.

Illogical, it thought. The probability of success is extremely low. The power gap remains significant. The clone has not shown her full strength. The Pseudo-Paragon guardian is active. The risk of death is high.

Then it reviewed Runar’s runic path.

The acceleration structures. The adaptive corrections. The way he used the cores from killed monsters as portable energy reserves. The way his Eye read the clone’s residual trail and converted it into navigational data.

The Will’s calculations shifted.

Not illogical. Calculated. He does not expect to overpower her. He expects to exploit the situation.

That was better.

That was exactly the kind of thinking the Rune Sovereign had valued.

The Ancient Will felt a familiar hunger sharpen inside its runic core. The clone was a threat, but she was also a catalyst. She would force the vessel to grow faster. She would force him to reach beyond his current limits. She would show him the wall between his level and the true peak of the Multiverse.

And if he broke through that wall in the process, even partially, the Will would benefit.

Let her run. Let him chase. Let the Pseudo-Paragon test them both.

The Will turned its attention to the deeper territory.

The guardian had sensed them.

It was waiting.

---

The pressure changed.

Runar felt it before he saw it. The void ahead became heavier. Not denser in a physical sense, but more authoritative. The local laws grew thicker. Movement required more effort. Spiritual sense bent slightly around invisible folds in space.

The territory of the Pseudo-Paragon.

Even from a distance, it felt like approaching the edge of a sleeping ocean. The surface was calm. The depth was monstrous.

Runar’s body resisted the pressure automatically. His dual runic-golden halos spun faster around his heart and brain. The Bootstrap Circulation Method converted the surrounding pressure into usable energy, but the gain was small compared to the strain.

He adjusted his runic structures.

Lines of script formed along his skin. They stabilized his movement, reduced the drag of the heavier laws, and allowed him to maintain speed without wasting energy.

Ahead, the Mysterious Woman’s aura slowed.

She had reached the edge.

Runar’s eyes sharpened.

She is stopping.

That meant the guardian was close.

He pushed harder.

The void around him groaned. Space folded in tight layers. The pressure of the Pseudo-Paragon signature pressed against his spiritual sense like a physical weight. It was not hostile yet. It was simply vast.

For the first time since the hunt began, Runar felt the true scale of what he was chasing.

Galaxy-level monsters could be erased. Universal-level monsters could be disintegrated. Multiversal cores could be collected and studied. But a Pseudo-Paragon was something else entirely. It stood at the boundary of what the Reliquary allowed. It was close to the realm where principles became absolute and individual will could rewrite large sections of reality.

If the woman fought it, the layer would shake.

If he entered that fight unprepared, he would die.

Runar accepted that fact calmly.

Then he began preparing anyway.

He pulled out the Multiversal cores he had collected earlier. They floated around him in a tight orbit, indestructible and heavy. He could not crack them. But he could absorb the energy in them. And he could use their pressure as anchors.

Runic lines spread from his fingers and wrapped around the cores. Not to break them. To connect them.

A temporary array formed in his mind.

It was not complete. It was not stable. It was barely more than a concept. But it gave him options. A delay. A distortion. A moment of interference.

One moment might be enough.

It had to be.

---

At the edge of the distorted territory, the Mysterious Woman stopped.

She floated in the warped void, her robes still, her expression calm. Ahead of her, the darkness deepened. Space bent inward. Faint runes pulsed in the distance like slow heartbeats.

The Pseudo-Paragon guardian opened one eye.

It did not have a true body in the normal sense. It appeared as a vast shadow folded into the layer, its shape shifting between beast, geometry, and living law. Its eye was a sphere of compressed darkness surrounded by golden rings. Each ring carried ancient script.

Script that Runar would have recognized instantly.

The language of the Rune Sovereign.

The guardian’s gaze locked onto the woman.

The woman met its gaze without blinking.

"I have come for your core," she said. Her voice was quiet. It carried no arrogance. No threat. Only certainty. "Give it, or i shall remove it for you."

The guardian did not speak.

The golden rings around its eye turned once.

The void trembled.

---

Far behind, Runar felt that tremor.

His spiritual sense caught the first wave of pressure rolling outward from the territory. It was not an attack. It was simply the natural result of two high-level existences facing each other.

He was still behind.

But the gap had narrowed.

Runar’s golden-white eyes burned brighter.

She has engaged it.

He did not know whether the woman had started the fight or whether the guardian had attacked first. It did not matter. What mattered was that the situation was moving.

He had one chance to arrive at the right moment.

Not too early.

Not too late.

Runar gathered every runic structure he had prepared, every fragment of spatial compression he could sustain, and every ounce of energy his dual halos could output.

Then he accelerated.

The void cracked behind him.

The hunt for the Pseudo-Paragon had become a race.

And Runar had no intention of losing.