The Extra's Rise - Chapter 1090
1090: The Sky Tears 1090: The Sky Tears The fabric of reality didn’t unzip; it tore.
High above the Ocean, in the exosphere where the air was thin and the cold was absolute, a jagged fissure of grey light split the darkness.
It wasn’t a portal.
It was a forced entry.
I stepped out of the Akashic Records and into the war.
Gravity seized me instantly, but it wasn’t the gentle pull of Earth.
It was the crushing, artificial gravity generated by the Demon Armada.
Thousands of obsidian dreadnoughts hung in orbit, blotting out the sun.
They cast a shadow over the entire hemisphere, turning high noon into a twilight of purple and black.
The air was thick, saturated with Miasma-the heavy, chaotic energy of the Abyss that had flooded the solar system upon their arrival.
It wasn’t toxic-that was a misconception of the weak-but it was heavy.
It pressed against the skin like a lead blanket, demanding submission.
Floating in the center of the formation, seated on a throne made of nothing but compressed gravity and arrogance, was Tenebria.
She wasn’t looking at the continents below.
She was looking right at me.
She wore a simple black coat that fluttered in the atmospheric turbulence.
Her legs were crossed, her chin resting on her knuckles.
The seven colors of the Authorities swirled lazily around her, a slow-moving hurricane of godhood.
“You took your time,” she said.
Her voice didn’t travel through the thin air.
It traveled through the Miasma, vibrating directly in my skull.
I didn’t answer immediately.
I took a breath.
Normally, a human mage-even a Divine one-would filter the Miasma out, treating it like static interference.
But the Blood of the Overlord Akasha had forced down my throat was burning in my veins.
It changed my physiology.
It rewrote my engine.
I inhaled the Miasma.
I didn’t filter it.
I drank it.
The heavy, purple energy flooded my lungs, mixing with the pure blue Mana of my core and the colorless void of The Grey.
Tenebria’s eyes-currently a bored Blue (Sloth)-widened slightly.
“Oh?” she murmured, standing up.
The gravity throne dissolved into dust.
“You ate it?
Akasha fed you my blood?” “It tasted like ash,” I said, my voice calm, projecting effortlessly across the kilometers between us.
I reached to my hip.
My fingers wrapped around the hilt of Valeria.
“Good,” Tenebria smiled.
It was a terrifying expression-genuine, sharp, and predatory.
Her eyes shifted from Blue to a vibrant, hungry Orange (Gluttony).
“I was worried I would break you too fast.
But if you have the blood…
maybe you can last five minutes.” She didn’t accelerate.
She simply removed the distance.
Authority of Envy: Covetous Step.
One millisecond, she was a kilometer away.
The next, she was inside my guard.
She didn’t use a weapon.
She threw a right cross.
It looked simple.
It was anything but.
Her fist was wreathed in the Authority of Wrath, condensing the explosive force of a tactical nuke into the surface area of her knuckles.
In the past, I would have dodged.
I would have used a spell to deflect.
Not today.
I drew Valeria.
The blade didn’t just slide out of the sheath; it sang.
The ancient undead steel, reinforced by my new Sovereign status, hummed with a frequency that shattered the sound barrier.
Sword Sovereignty: Absolute Interception.
I didn’t block.
I met her force with my own.
BOOM.
The impact didn’t create a sound.
It created a vacuum.
The air for ten miles around us was instantly evacuated, creating a silence so profound it hurt the ears.
Then, the shockwave hit.
The clouds beneath us were vaporized in a perfect circle.
The ocean surface, thirty thousand feet down, depressed into a massive bowl.
We hung there in the center of the destruction, sword pressed against fist.
My arms trembled.
The density of her body was absurd.
Hitting her felt like hitting a neutron star.
But I held.
The Miasma I had inhaled reinforced my muscles, granting me the physical density of a Demon Lord to match my human magic.
Tenebria laughed.
“You’re heavy!” she crowed, delighted.
Her eyes flashed Green (Envy).
She spun, unleashing a kick aimed at my ribs.
The speed was instantaneous-a theft of time itself.
I didn’t react with thought.
I reacted with Law.
Sovereign Sword Art: Fourth Form – Mirrorless reflection.
I spun with her, matching her rotation perfectly.
Valeria caught her shin.
Sparks of black and grey light showered down like fireworks.
She pressed the attack.
A flurry of blows ensued-a fist aimed at my throat, a knee to my solar plexus, a chop to my temple.
Each strike carried a different Sin.
Wrath for power.
Sloth to dampen my counters.
Gluttony to drain my stamina on contact.
She was a martial storm.
But I had evolved.
The seal was broken.
I wasn’t just reacting to the Sins; I was reading the code beneath them.
I weaved through the barrage, Valeria painting ribbons of Grey light in the air.
“My turn,” I whispered.
I broke the clinch.
I kicked off the air, creating a sonic boom, and surged upward.
I held Valeria high above my head.
The Mana and Miasma inside me swirled, fusing into the catalyst for The Grey.
I pushed the concept of “Sovereignty” to its absolute limit.
I wasn’t just swinging a sword.
I was dictating a new rule for reality.
Sovereign Sword Art: Seventh Form – The Apex Boundary.
I swung down.
It wasn’t a beam of energy.
It was a distortion.
The sword strike created a vertical plane of separation-a line that declared, ‘Everything to the left is separate from everything to the right.’ Tenebria looked up at the falling slash.
For the first time, her instinct screamed danger.
She couldn’t absorb this.
This wasn’t energy; it was a division.
She crossed her arms.
Authority of Pride: Divine Rejection.
Authority of Sloth: Absolute Stagnation.
Authority of Wrath: Explosive Reactive Armor.
She layered three Gifts instantly.
A violet shield, a blue dampening field, and a red explosive aura.
The Apex Boundary hit her defenses.
SCREEEECH.
The sound of concepts grinding against each other tore through the sky.
The Violet shield cracked.
The Blue field shattered.
The Red aura detonated.
The slash cut through her defenses and slammed into her forearms.
For a second, the world turned white.
I was blasted backward, tumbling through the air until I stabilized myself with a burst of wind magic.
I looked through the smoke.
Tenebria was still floating there.
Her sleeves were shredded.
Her arms were smoking.
And there, on her left forearm, was a thin, red line.
A cut.
It was shallow.
Barely a scratch.
But it was there.
Tenebria stared at her arm.
She lifted it, inspecting the wound.
She touched the droplet of blood that welled up-a dark, iridescent liquid that hissed against the air.
She brought the blood to her lips and licked it.
Slowly, a smile spread across her face.
It wasn’t the arrogant smirk of a god looking at an insect.
It was the feral grin of a gladiator who had finally found a worthy opponent.
“Pain,” she whispered, her eyes burning with a terrifying mix of Lust and Wrath.
“I haven’t felt that since I killed Tiamat.” She looked at me.
The aura around her exploded, shifting from the lazy swirl into a combat-ready tempest.
The Miasma in the atmosphere grew heavier, responding to her excitement.
“You aren’t a snack, Arthur,” she declared, her voice booming like thunder.
“You’re a meal.” I gripped Valeria tighter, feeling the undead spirit inside the blade trembling-not with fear, but with the strain of the power I was channeling.
“Come and eat,” I challenged, leveling the blade at her throat.
The warmup was over.
Next Chapter: The Immutable Object