Chapter 362: The Script of True Reality - Knowledge Seeker
Drifting in the void, Ash blinked as he activated his foresight once more.
This ti, he could perceive an entire millennium of tilines—or more accurately, project himself across infinite possibilities simultaneously.
When his eyes opened again, he was no longer adrift with his companions but instead stood within a place of pure emptiness.
In the past, before his eyes had evolved, he would typically remain anchored to a single unfolding scene, which would shift and transform until the ability’s duration expired.
This ti however, in front of him he saw so words that were from a language.... the sa language that ford his tattoos, and the tattoos on Elysia and Creara.
Before, none of them could figure out the aning, and honestly, they didn’t care, knowing it would all co to light eventually.
But now, the words were crystal clear, and he understood them as easily as English.
It wasn’t like he’d suddenly been flooded with information or seen anything from his past lives. In fact, not a single one of his incarnations, not even the first, had tattoos like his.
Yet, as he looked at them, it felt as though he had always known what the words ant and how to read them.
"The script of True Reality, huh?" he muttered, watching as the words shifted, splitting into three columns of red, white, and black.
As they shifted, his own tattoos lit up in matching colors—red along his arms, white across his torso, and black etched into the designs on his face.
Seeing it, he instantly understood the aning, a smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head.
"Just who the hell has access to such power?" he wondered aloud, the thought alone sending a thrill through him.
The different colors each carried their own aning.
The tattoos on his arms granted the power to issue absolute combat commands—words ant to impose or completely erase elents from battle.
His torso held the authority over creation and rejection, considered to be True sentences. anwhile, his face controlled visual commands, which he was putting to use at this very mont.
This let him not just ’see’ tilines but read them in their purest form.
Even though the Null Firmant lacked a ti continuum, it still existed within a much larger cosmology, and this script... well, it could only be dodged by soone who could wield it too.
This ant that whatever Ash enforced with these commands, or whatever he read, were things destined to happen without a hitch.
As the words kept shifting in his vision, he slowly frowned.
"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" he muttered, realizing there were so restrictions that ca with it.
Not for him personally, but for matters connected to the use of this script.
For starters, Ash was only a Mid Eternal Hierarchy Saint after copying Vetri’s rank (the ex-general), placing him in the twelfth-dinsional existence.
True Reality, paired with this script, wielded power far beyond those limits... so much so that even the smallest use was already shattering the ’system’.
Still, there was one thing that frustrated him—using the power of Visual Commands, the void had transford into a library.
It wasn’t so sort of conceptual manifestation, but an actual, physical library—vast beyond comprehension.
-----
When he appeared, a sudden headache struck him. Yes, even he—a being so unfathomable—was now gripped by an intense ache.
"The h...ell?" he muttered, teeth clenched, eyes darting around as he began to walk.
The polished marble beneath his bare feet gave a soft, delicate click with each step he took.
Shelves towered around him, impossibly high—higher than mountains, higher than the very idea of height—reaching up into what wasn’t a ceiling but a drifting nebula of deep midnight blue.
They were carved from a strange translucent white marble streaked with black and faint crimson, each one creaking softly under the weight of books that weren’t quite books.
So shelves held nothing at all—only the imprint of where a book should be.
At the very center of this impossible expanse stood a single desk.
But it was empty.
The chair looked as if it hadn’t been moved in ages... and everything was made of the sa white-black-crimson marble, perfectly clean, perfectly untouched.
Thud!
Ash couldn’t even get close to the desk—hell, he could barely see straight—before dropping to his knees.
The pounding in his head had grown so intense it felt like he might pass out any second.
Still, he clung on, trying to take in the world around him with so sense of clarity. But every ti he tried to focus, his vision splintered apart.
Colors inverted, edges honed to a razor’s edge.
Red bled into white, into black, into hues that defied description, and the longer he gazed, the greater the strain beca.
As the ache grew, he understood it was not pain of the body, but a tornt of perception itself.
The things in this space transcended his state of existence by magnitudes beyond comprehension.
Ash, who could normally overco any limitation, now faced a realm that existed countless planes above his own—an expanse beyond reach or reason.
Hell, it was a miracle he hadn’t died, let alone passed out.
It just showed how stubborn he could be.
As he lifted his head, his eyes burned—not with heat, but with pure contradictions.
Possessing the ability to be present, yet devoid of the essential awareness to comprehend his surroundings, created a profound conflict within him.
As his gaze caught the faintest trace of words, he felt the warmth of his own blood slowly streaming down his cheeks.
His eyes began to bleed endlessly, the blood now a pristine white streaked with black.
And before the words and himself vanished completely he frowned as his gaze fell upon a section of the library labeled, The Nine Cosmic Organisms.
But before he could see anything else clearly, he was teleported.
-----
He now stood in a smaller section—a quiet alcove nestled within one of the towering shelves.
There were no books or stacks here, only the sa script before him.
Yet now, he could see it just as he had in the void. And they were simple words...
Knowledge Seeker.
Looking at it, he instantly realized he could just think of a topic and information would appear.
Still, as he stood there, a slight frown lingered—not from nearly collapsing, but from the words he’d seen.
"Tsk, I’ll deal with it later..." he muttered, as he was already starting to get distracted.
In that mont, his thoughts drifted to a few things: the Inversions up to Ten, and Morgana’s exact situation.
Then in the next mont, a book appeared with black script.
"The Firmant of Nonexistence: The Ten Inversions of Null"
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