Ascension of the last Celestial

Losing your head was... weird.

There was no physical feeling, since nerves had no brain to shoot signals to. Obviously, there was no vision, no sound, and no smell. The sensory world didn’t just go dark, it ceased to exist entirely. But the thing that was truly the strangest, the most terrifyingly unnatural, was that there was no thought. Reflection requires a biological or spiritual anchor, and without a head, Valerian was completely unable to even comprehend his situation or consciously guide his mana. The cognitive machinery had been cleanly severed, leaving behind a blank canvas of absolute void.

But he, as the [Child of Mana], didn’t need to actively think to move the primordial energy of the world.

Normally, this passive command only applied to using his elemental affinities or maintaining his physical enhancement. Reforming his entire head, and with it, the hyper-complex pathways of the human brain, was something even he, with all his innate talent, could not do on a whim. The neurological blueprint of a sentient being was too intricate to be improvised by raw instinct.

That was exactly why he had to save his head for last. Over the countless times he had forced his body to reform its lost, shattered, or destroyed limbs during that brutal cycle of mutilation, he had carefully trained his flesh to remember. He had etched the pathways of regeneration into his very cellular structure, forcing his body to act on independent reflex. When he finally believed that his flesh and his core could reconstruct his entire head without his conscious mind guiding the mana, he had taken the ultimate gamble. He had purposely stepped into the path of the goblin chief’s blade and let him cut his head off.

But even then, the only reason he wagered his life on his core’s autonomous reflex was his heritage. He knew that his supreme bloodline and ancient race would keep his soul tethered to his flesh long enough. Even if his bloodline could not instantly heal a chopped-off head on its own, it could at least keep the spark of his life force flickering in the dark until his core finished the heavy lifting.

And now, here he was. He existed in an endless black ocean, devoid of thought, stripped of a body, suspended in pure and endless nothingness.

It was peaceful. Not that Valerian could actively think of it that way, because, you know, no head. To him, there was only one singular concept left in the entirety of existence, and it was mana. He had lost his physical touch, his connection to the dirt and the air, but he had not lost his sense of energy.

Feeling the mana flow through him, there was no end and no beginning. The universe had shrunk to the comforting, rhythmic pulse of Aether flowing through phantom veins. He was no longer a person; he was a localized current in an infinite sea of power. Valerian did not know how long he remained in this suspended, headless state. It could have been a fleeting second, or it could have been centuries. Time held no dominion in the endless nothingness of a shattered skull.

Little by little, the universe began to piece itself back together. His senses returned not all at once, but in a slow, agonizingly beautiful crawl. First, it was a light, tingling feeling in what could be his fingertips. The tingle moved upward, tracing the newly formed bones of his arms, knitting the muscle fibers together, before spilling down into his torso and running like liquid lightning into his legs. Finally, the surge moved upward to his neck. As the throat, jaw, and skull crystallized into reality, his other senses finally returned with the force of a tidal wave.

But when he opened his eyes, he didn’t see the dark canopy of the Voidwoods from above as he had expected. What he saw was the endless, jaw-dropping expanse of the cosmos.

He was staring into the deep, swirling abyss of infinity, the exact same primordial space he had visited during his very first dragon transformation, the sacred, untouchable realm where he had met his mother.

Confused as to why his regeneration had dragged him back to this celestial plane, Valerian looked around. But there was nothing. Unlike his last visit, where he had been enveloped by his mother’s warm, suffocatingly powerful touch, this time he was completely alone, floating aimlessly in the cosmic vacuum.

’Just what is going on?’ he thought, testing his newly formed vocal cords, though no sound escaped into the vacuum.

Curious as to what would happen next, Valerian instinctively began to channel his mana. To his absolute surprise, it moved faster. No, "faster" was entirely the wrong word for it. The mana that would normally leave his core, travel through his primary mana veins, and navigate the pathways of his shoulder to reach his fingertips was simply there. It was instantaneous. There was no delay, no travel time, not even a fraction of a millisecond.

It was as if his mana was already vibrating within his hands, merely waiting for his consciousness to acknowledge it.

Experimenting further, he began to channel the energy to other parts of his body, his chest, his legs, his eyes. The result was identical. The mana did not travel, it existed everywhere simultaneously, waiting for him like a loyal army.

’Is this the mana body I tried to form?’

The moment the thought crossed his mind, something shifted violently within his chest. It started as a small, insignificant needle prick right where his mana core was located. But before Valerian could even form a coherent thought about what was happening, the pain intensified by a factor of one thousand.

No, it wasn’t a small needle prick anymore. It felt like a massive, jagged iron nail was being hammered directly into his core by a merciless god. The cosmic space around him seemed to tremble with every agonizing strike. He could feel the solid structure of his core vibrating, straining against an immense internal pressure. And then, after one especially powerful, invisible hit, something cracked.

The sound echoed not in his ears, but in his very soul.

For a terrifying moment after the crack, there was absolute silence. Valerian didn’t dare to breathe, freezing in the cosmic void. Then, from the hairline fracture of his cracked core, something ancient and violent burst forth. The sheer, unadulterated force behind that escape was too immense for his vessel to contain; it completely shattered his mana core into a million glittering pieces.

The energy that erupted from the destruction spread through his body at an apocalyptic pace. In less than a second, it invaded every single pathway, every cell, and every fiber of his being.

To Valerian, it felt like an impossible amount of pressure was building up beneath his skin. It squeezed his newly formed veins until they burst, broke his pristine bones into dust, and crushed his internal organs into a fine slurry. He was being hollowed out from the inside by his own power.

After destroying everything inside him, the pressure didn’t die down. It kept increasing, compounding upon itself, making his skin bloat and stretch like a dying star. When it seemed that his outer layer couldn’t possibly take another fraction of pressure without exploding, the force surged one last time.

Valerian’s body exploded.

His flesh, his bones, and his blood disintegrated into pieces smaller than a single grain of sand, and his physical existence completely vanished, scattered into the vastness of the cosmos.

Yet, death did not claim him. Where his body used to be, the floating particles of his dust began to gravitate toward each other, drawn by an inescapable, magnetic pull. A massive, translucent cocoon of purple and white energy began to form in the empty space. Inside the glowing shell, the silhouette of a young boy could be seen, curling inward and hugging his legs. He had long hair that reached past his waist, and a pair of long, onyx horns adorned his head like the crown of a supreme ruler.

The cocoon began to glow with a brilliant, blinding purple-white light, illuminating the dark corners of the empty space.

As the light reached its absolute zenith, the cocoon began to unravel, turning into billions of little glowing particles of pure, concentrated mana. Like a reverse explosion, these particles rushed inward, embedding themselves into the body of the boy.

When he opened his eyes, a radiant cosmic brilliance shone through his purple, slitted pupils. The iris around his slitted eyes glistened, rotating slowly like a miniature galaxy catching the light of a distant sun. His long, stark white hair now possessed a subtle, silver shine, making it twinkle like a cluster of constellations whenever he moved.

His already heavenly face had become even more hauntingly beautiful, leaning slightly toward a refined, feminine elegance with long, dark eyelashes and high, aristocratic cheekbones.

The horns on his head had changed completely. They were no longer the straight, brutal horns of a demon or a common monster; they had evolved into a regal, crystalline crown, with a smaller pair of sleek horns curving just behind the primary ones to accentuate the imperial design. A faint, ethereal purple light surfaced between the crooks of the horns, as the mana within him rejoiced at its new, perfect home.

His physique didn’t change much in terms of bulk compared to when he had replaced his limbs with mana; he wasn’t a towering giant. Instead, his skin now possessed a healthy, pale, iridescent shine to it. To his own touch, his skin felt different, it felt as though it were constructed from microscopic folds of space overlapping one another, giving his body the unique ability to grow limitlessly in power and density without ever increasing in physical size or bulk.

But the most striking addition was the large dragon tattoo etched onto his back. It showcased a majestic, six-winged black cosmic dragon drawn with impossible, lifelike detail. The more closely one looked at the markings, the more intricate the lines became, revealing swirling nebulae within the scales. Faint constellations marked the expanse of the six wings, and a soft, rhythmic purple glow shone beneath the ink whenever mana moved through Valerian’s body.

’I feel... incredible.’

There was truly no other way to put it. The way Valerian felt right now was beyond anything he could have ever imagined in his wildest dreams. It felt as though there were a limitless, untamed reservoir of physical strength coiled beneath his skin, and his mana felt purer, heavier, and stronger than ever before. He was no longer just using mana; he was a part of it.

’But how do I leave?’ he thought, looking down at his flawless hands.

Valerian desperately wanted to test out the limits of this new physique, and he knew there was a perfect, angry practice dummy waiting for him nearby. Unfortunately, he had absolutely no idea how to break out of this endless cosmic mental scape.

’How did it work last time? I was just thrown out after my mother talked to me. But isn’t this my own inside? Shouldn’t I just be able to leave whenever I want?’

Valerian closed his eyes, focusing entirely on his internal structure. He tried to access his mana core to anchor his consciousness and force a awakening, but what he found was more surprising than anything else.

His core... it was completely gone. Right in his sternum, where his mana core was supposed to be located, there was nothing but an empty, echoing space.

’I didn’t lose the ability to wield mana,’ Valerian reasoned, watching how the energy naturally orbited his chest anyway. ’So that can only mean that my entire body became my core. Every cell, every drop of blood, every bone is now the core itself. If that’s the case... maybe this will work.’

Valerian stopped looking inward and focused his gaze on the outside world. He visualized the dark forest, the crisp night air, and the ugly face of the goblin chief.

The moment his will manifested, the cosmos around him began to warp. The stars, the nebulae, and the endless void were violently sucked into his body, collapsing into his new skin. The celestial illusion shattered, instantly revealing the familiar scenery of the Voidwoods from high above in the sky.

’I’m back,’ he thought, the wind whipping through his silver-white hair. ’Now, where is he?’

As Valerian sent out his spatial sense, he was momentarily overwhelmed. A massive, staggering wave of information rushed into his brain, detailing every leaf, every insect, and every vibration in the air for miles around. But since his brain was now constructed entirely from high-grade mana, the overwhelming data was processed instantly, without a single headache. Valerian marveled at his new, absurd range.

’Fifty kilometers... that’s just insane.’

The upgrade from a five-kilometer radius to a staggering fifty-kilometer range was a monumental boon that Valerian hadn’t expected, but he gladly accepted it. Thanks to this massive sensory net, he instantly spotted the goblin chief. The monster was still standing dead center in the ruined meadow, his massive greatsword drawn, scanning the area on high alert.

’How much time has passed anyway?’ Valerian mused, glancing at the horizon. The sky was barely beginning to color with the pale light of morning. ’It’s barely dawn, so it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes.’

Since he had completely lost his sense of time during his bodily reformation and cosmic rebirth, he had to roughly guess based on the sun. Ten minutes of absolute panic for the chief, while he was becoming something else entirely.

’Let’s see what this body can really do.’

With a wicked, razor-sharp grin stretching across his flawless features, Valerian’s body vanished into thin air, stepping seamlessly into the folds of space.