Emperor of the Source

Adrian stepped through the massive doors, and the interior of the chamber revealed itself in layers of overwhelming excess. The walls were lined with luminescent crystals that pulsed with soft radiance, their glow shifting through subtle gradations of colour: pale azure bleeding into violet, then gold, then back again.

Beneath his feet, the floor stretched outward in polished perfection, its surface reflecting every detail with such clarity that it resembled standing atop a frozen lake. Every element within the room spoke of wealth that had been accumulated over countless years.

At the center of this opulence, elevated upon a grand dais, sat a humanoid figure whose presence defined the entire chamber: Morka.

His body was grotesquely indulgent. His frame was fat and unrefined, layers of excess flesh spilling over the edges of his throne's armrests. Three eyes were set into his face, all of them gleaming with casual arrogance. Four arms rested lazily upon the armrests, each adorned with rings that pulsed faintly.

There was nothing about him that resembled a warrior who had endured countless life-and-death battles. No scars marked his skin. No calluses roughened his hands. Instead, he looked like someone who had been handed power without ever needing to earn it, like a spoiled entity who had simply purchased an entire galaxy as though it were a commodity listed on a market board.

Adrian's gaze did not linger on Morka for long. His attention shifted immediately to the two figures standing at either side of the throne, silent sentinels positioned like decorative statues.

Unlike the countless cultivators he had seen outside, these two were different. Their eyes were not empty. Awareness flickered behind their gazes, though it was buried beneath layers of suppression. And the aura surrounding them revealed their true nature without concealment.

Adrian's perception swept over them in an instant, recognising the depth of their power. Both were Peak Rule Stage cultivators, and the divine concepts embedded within them were of high-tier classification, granting them access to eighty percent authority. These should undoubtedly be the original leaders of the Void Fang and Obsidian Rift sects, the sovereigns who had once ruled this galaxy before Morka arrived.

Yet, despite their overwhelming power, they stood perfectly still. Their jaws were clenched tight, muscles locked beneath their skin. They were completely silent, and most telling of all… they did not look at Morka.

They did not even look at Adrian, who had just entered the room. Their eyes remained forward, fixed on nothing in particular, as though even the act of acknowledging another presence was no longer a choice they were allowed to make.

The heavy doors closed completely behind Adrian with a resonant thud, sealing the chamber into isolation. Morka's three eyes settled upon him, narrowing slightly with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. He did not rise from his throne, nor did he show any sign of caution. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his chin against one of his hands as he studied Adrian with open interest.

"Not a single trace of divine essence is leaking from your body," Morka said slowly, his tone carrying a casual arrogance. "A Peak Rule Stage, huh?" He tilted his head, the third eye on his forehead narrowing as though attempting to pierce through Adrian's suppression. "And judging by your confidence to walk into my headquarters alone, perhaps you even wield an Ultimate-tier divine concept. Ninety percent authority?…" He paused, letting the words hang in the air before continuing with exaggerated approval. "Impressive for a wanderer!!!"

Adrian did not respond to the assessment. What caught his attention was not the accuracy of Morka's deduction, but the complete absence of fear in his demeanour. To any cultivator within the universe, the presence of a being with ninety percent authority would be enough to instil instinctive dread, or at the very least, caution. Yet Morka remained completely unfazed, his gaze filled not with wariness, but with greed.

"You don't seem afraid," Adrian stated calmly, his voice steady as he observed him without moving from his position near the entrance.

"Afraid?" Morka let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing through the chamber with mocking intensity. His belly shook with the force of it, and one of his hands slapped against the armrest for emphasis. "Why should I be afraid? Because you have high authority?" He gestured lazily toward the two silent figures beside him, his expression turning smug, "Do you think you are the first arrogant genius to wander into my galaxy?"

He straightened slightly, his three eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "These two were kings here. They thought they were invincible in their little pond. Eighty percent authority each. Untouchable, unshakable sovereigns. Now they stand as my guard dogs. My Major Sect gave me the wealth and the tools to bind even the heavens of this miserable galaxy. Your authority means nothing to me here."

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Adrian's gaze drifted once more to the enslaved leaders. Beneath their stillness, he could feel it: the suppressed rage, the humiliation, the fury that had nowhere to go. They were beings of immense power reduced to nothing more than ornaments of control, their strength rendered meaningless by the mechanisms embedded within them. Their cultivation, their comprehension, their lifetimes of struggle, all of it had been stripped of purpose.

"I understand the desire to rule a galaxy," Adrian said after a moment, "Power structures have always been built that way. The strong dominate the weak, and those below either submit or are erased. That is not unusual." His eyes shifted back to Morka. "But why enslavement? Why strip them of their minds, their existence as individuals?"

Morka dismissed the question with a careless wave of his hand, his expression turning contemptuous as though Adrian had asked something absurdly naive. "What use is their will?" He leaned back into his throne, one hand gesturing vaguely toward the sealed doors behind Adrian. "Out there, I have millions of cultivators working without complaint, without rebellion, without failure. They are efficient, obedient, and perfect." He sneered. "Livestock is exactly what they are. The weak exist to build the foundations for the strong. That is the fundamental law of the universe. If they wanted freedom, they should have been born with better backing."

He leaned forward slightly, and his eyes gleamed with greedy fascination as he examined Adrian more closely, as though seeing him for the first time as something valuable rather than threatening. "But you… you are different. A stray Peak Rule Stage being is a rare commodity. It would be a waste to simply kill you."

He straightened slightly, his tone shifting into something more commanding, "I will give you one chance. Submit to me. Swear loyalty to my sect and sign the contract. Do that, and I will grant you wealth and resources beyond anything you could ever obtain in whatever backwater galaxy you crawled out of. Refuse… and I will force a slave chip into your skull and make you scrub my floors for eternity."

Adrian remained silent. The opulence of the chamber, the arrogance of the ruler, the silent suffering of those bound beside him, everything converged into a single, unshakable clarity within his mind.

"He thinks his backing makes him untouchable. He thinks wealth and tools can suppress true strength."

In that moment, Adrian fully understood the nature of the being before him. Morka was not powerful in the way that mattered. He was not a warrior who had risen through struggle, nor a cultivator who had carved his path through adversity. He was someone who relied entirely on borrowed strength, a ruler sustained by external support rather than his own capability. He had never fought for anything. Never bled for anything. Never earned anything.

Adrian lifted his gaze and looked directly into Morka's eyes, his expression turning completely cold.

"You talk too much about backing and tools," Adrian said, his voice lowering into a chilling tone that caused the ambient mana within the chamber to tremble subtly, the crystals along the walls flickering as though reacting to an unseen pressure. "You bought your throne, bought your slaves, but you forgot one thing."

Morka's expression shifted slightly, irritation replacing amusement. "And what is that?"

Adrian took a single step forward, his white-grey eyes locking onto him with absolute clarity. "You can't buy your life back once I take it."

For a heartbeat, silence hung in the chamber.

Then Morka burst into laughter, the sound filled with mockery and disdain. "HAHAHAHA…" The sound echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the polished floors and crystalline walls. He slapped the armrest again, his belly shaking. "Such ignorance! Such arrogance!" He wiped at one of his eyes theatrically. "True Peak Stage beings like you think you are gods of the universe, yet you cannot even see the true heavens. I will show you now."

At that moment, two new figures materialised before the throne without warning, their presence distorting the surrounding space as they appeared. Morka did not even look at them as he issued his command with a dismissive wave. "Take care of him."

The two figures turned toward Adrian, and instantly, a violet domain expanded outward, engulfing the entire chamber. The moment Adrian was caught within it, he could perceive their true strength clearly.

Both wielded ninety percent authority. Both were True Peak Rule Stage beings.

Adrian's understanding deepened immediately. These were the "tools" Morka had spoken of. The source of his confidence, the reason he could rule an entire galaxy without fear. A single being at this level had been enough to suppress the four strongest leaders of the Andromeda Galaxy during the UNI-Auction. Now, Adrian stood before two of them.

And yet, he felt no fear.

Instead, a faint smile appeared on his face as he slowly stretched his arms outward, rolling his shoulders as though awakening from a long period of restraint. His fingers flexed, and the tension in his body unwound completely.

"It's been a long time…" Adrian said quietly, his voice carrying a subtle excitement that made the ambient mana around him hum, "…since I could use my power without suppressing it."

In the next instant, his entire body began to dissolve into white-grey essence, his physical form unravelling as he entered his Source Form without holding anything back. His skin, his bones, his blood, all of it shifted into radiant energy that pulsed with incomprehensible depth.

The atmosphere within the throne room shifted instantly.

The violet domain trembled. The two True Peak Rule Stage beings froze mid-step, their expressions flickering with something they had not felt in a very, very long time.

Uncertainty.

For the first time since Adrian had entered the universe, he didn't hold back any of his power.