Chapter 707: Prepare.... For War!!!!
The moment Irene’s entire existence was unraveled, she didn’t die — well, not immediately at least.
No, Ash had given her a message to pass along, so how could she possibly die so easily?
Irene’s body reappeared in the Source of Expansion, but she was not in the laboratory.
She found herself standing right next to a frantic Oracle in the grand central pavilion, both of them facing the five leaders of the Source of Expansion.
The vast chamber was filled with ancient stone pillars carved with glowing runes, the air heavy with the scent of incense and old power.
The leaders — a mix of Humans, Spirits, and other ancient races — sat on elevated thrones, their expressions grave and watchful.
The Oracle spoke quickly, her voice urgent and shaking as she tried to impress upon them the weight of what she had seen.
"What don’t you understand!" she exclaimed, waving her hands in frantic emphasis.
"We’re not ready for this. The Novel we’re living in doesn’t even have a Main Character!
He’s the Co-Author—how many times do I have to say it? And Irene... who even knows? But they’re coming, and we have to be ready—we have to—"
The five leaders watched her with conflicted gazes.
They knew she was not the type to move on baseless assumptions.
And now it felt like the millionth time of her retelling the story of what Celeste had done.
Yet, their expressions were a mixture of doubt, concern, and the heavy weight of leadership, their eyes narrowing as they tried to process her words.
Before they could respond, their gazes suddenly shifted to the side.
Irene appeared beside the Oracle in a faint shimmer, looking disoriented.
Her purple and white battle dress was slightly torn, her breathing uneven as she tried to steady herself.
The Oracle turned to her in shock, eyes wide.
"You’re... still alive?" she whispered, disbelief in her voice.
The five leaders stared at Irene, the pavilion falling into a heavy, tense silence as the weight of the moment settled over them all.
Ignoring the Oracle’s question, Irene’s glowing blue eyes fixed on one of the leaders — her mother, Tamaka the First.
Her voice was small and trembling, yet it sliced through the heavy air like a blade.
"Mother... Am I going to die?"
The five leaders’ expressions darkened at once.
Their eyes narrowed with sharp, ancient focus, the weight of countless cycles pressing down on the chamber.
Tamaka the First’s posture stiffened, her face tightening with something far deeper than concern.
It was common knowledge that no Primediva had ever died—not once in the long, unbroken history of the Source.
And yet, in just a matter of moments, two of them had spoken of death.
"Speak," one of the leaders commanded, his voice low and grave. "Tell us everything."
Tamaka the First took a slow step forward as she rose from her throne, her voice tight.
"Irene... what did you see?"
Irene’s breathing grew more erratic.
Her hands trembled at her sides as she forced the words out, her voice cracking under the weight of what she had witnessed.
"The Main Character... is the Author," she said. "And he says they will be here for the festival."
The moment the words left her lips, a voice echoed through the chamber — calm, clear, and utterly final.
"Good girl, now your life’s mission is complete. That’s enough... now goodbye."
Irene’s eyes widened in pure, primal terror.
Her body convulsed violently.
For a single, horrifying heartbeat, her form seemed to fracture from within — skin splitting, bones cracking, her very essence tearing apart as if the fabric of her existence had been violently unwoven.
Then, with a sickening, wet detonation, she imploded.
BOOOOOOOM!!!!!
SPLAT!!!!!
Blood chunks of flesh erupted outward in a violent spray, painting the ancient stone walls, the glowing runes, and the five leaders in a grotesque, steaming mess.
The sound of it — the wet, fleshy impact — lingered in the sudden, suffocating silence that followed.
In that moment, not a single soul stirred.
The Primedivas were supposed to be practically unkillable, after all.
It had been said more than once that no amount of Narrative power could erase them from the Greater Narrative.
This basically meant that no matter how much Ash could rewrite events by changing the novel itself, or how the others could tap into the Narrative, they wouldn’t be able to kill the Primedivas or harm them in any way.
Yet, none of that mattered when it came to ordinary death.
Sure, they were invulnerable to narrative manipulation... but what if the Ineffable simply chose not to use such abilities?
And honestly, it wasn’t like Ash needed them anyway—wielding the Language of Gods was just one of countless tricks they had up their sleeve.
----
The chamber was utterly still, the only sound the slow, rhythmic dripping of blood from the ceiling and the leaders’ robes.
The air had grown thick, heavy with the metallic scent of death and something far more ominous — the undeniable sense that something ancient and untouchable had just been crossed.
Tamaka the First stood motionless, her face pale beneath the blood splattered across her features. Her eyes, however, burned with cold, terrible clarity.
After a long, suffocating silence, her voice rang out — low, steady, and filled with the weight of absolute resolve.
"Prepare.... for war!!!"
------
"This place is not bad at all..." Xeros muttered, his voice carrying a note of genuine appreciation as he looked around the Source of Expansion.
The realm stretched out beneath them in all its ancient glory — vast plains of shimmering silver grass, towering spires that pierced the red sky, and majestic mountains whose peaks seemed to touch the four moons above.
The four suns cast a warm, crimson-gold glow over everything, making the entire realm feel both mythical and alive.
Quell chimed in with a lazy grin, crossing his arms as he floated beside his brother.
"Yeah, I might as well add a few thousand women to my harem while we’re having fun here," he said, his tone playful and unapologetic.
Evelyn shook her head with a sigh, her voice carrying a mix of exasperation and fondness.
"All you think about is women," she said.
Quell turned to her with a mischievous smile.
"Well... you love Father, right? What’s up with the bias?"
Ash let out a low, warm laugh as he and the others stood together in the skies of the Source of Expansion.
The view was magnificent — endless landscapes, towering structures, and the distant hum of a civilization that had existed since the dawn of their verse.
Morphea floated closer, her ethereal form shimmering as she asked, her voice soft and curious.
"Are we just going to destroy this place... or actually wait for the festival?"
Ash smiled, his reddish-purple eyes calm as he looked out over the realm.
"I want to wait for the festival," he said. "It shouldn’t take long."
Snap!
With a casual snap of his fingers, time itself shifted.
A massive, glowing clock appeared in the skies above the Source of Expansion, its hands ticking forward with deliberate slowness.
Ash’s smile widened as he looked at his family.
"I’m going to enjoy myself in this realm and gain some ideas for my wager against NovelGeek2..."
Nia immediately grabbed Vaeloria’s hand, pulling her along with a playful smile.
"You all know what that means," she said. "Just do whatever."
Ash chuckled softly.
"Indeed... just leave enough fun for the finale."
The moment he spoke, the Ineffable Pantheon scattered in various groups and directions, disappearing into the realm with laughter and anticipation.
The moment Ash himself vanished, the massive clock in the skies let out a loud, resonant laugh that echoed across the entire Source of Expansion.
"BEWARE.....THE AUTHOR AND THE INEFFABLE CLAN HAS ARRIVED!!!!’