Chapter 281: Chapter 281 Prototype
Riley woke up feeling utterly refreshed, the soft glow of dawn filtering into the chamber as golden rays bathed the room in warmth.
Beside him, his wives lay in peaceful slumber, their delicate features relaxed, a testament to the joy and comfort they had shared the night before.
He gazed at each of them with affection, his heart swelling with gratitude.
In their presence, the burdens of immortality seemed lighter.
They were his anchor—his reason for smiling despite the vast and ever-expanding weight of the cosmos.
Stretching lazily, Riley rose from the bed and stood by the window, the immortal realm stretching endlessly before him like a canvas painted in light and mist.
With a single thought, he extended his divine sense beyond the veil that separated realms, his vision piercing through dimensions until it reached the mortal world.
The nine cauldrons continent.
There, amidst the swirling flow of time and fate, he found his parents—alive and well.
Their lives were simple, untouched by the chaos and trials that had shaped Riley’s own journey.
That sight alone brought him peace.
But his gaze did not stop there.
He shifted his awareness further, deeper into the complex lattice of existence—the multiverse.
It had been created by the Ancient One, the original wielder of unimaginable power, whose legacy Riley had inherited.
This multiverse was boundless, chaotic and beautiful, filled with infinite possibilities.
Worlds rose and fell like stars in a night sky, and each universe teemed with its own secrets, its own laws, its own version of truth.
Riley connected with the consciousness of his countless clones, dispersed across different planes of reality.
Some were meditating in temples built atop celestial peaks, others were exploring dying worlds, or capturing a few monsters of Sunny and dissecting them for experiments.
Yet, despite all efforts, none of them had uncovered the answers Riley sought—the truth behind the void beyond creation, the whispers of fate, or the shadows that sometimes moved behind the light.
Still, he had anticipated this. Some mysteries resisted even the grasp of gods.
He withdrew his awareness, the threads of the multiverse slipping gently from his perception like morning mist.
With a deep breath, he returned to the present—his chamber, his wives, the golden morning.
Riley looked up at the sky and smiled, a spark of resilience shining in his eyes.
"The future might be bleak," he murmured, "but not everything is lost. As long as I breathe, as long as there is light, I’ll take it one day at a time."
He turned back toward his sleeping companions, his smile widening with quiet confidence.
He would laugh when he could, love with all his heart, and fight with unshakable will if needed.
For now, though, he chose to live—fully, joyfully, and without regret.
And so, the immortal Riley began his day, carrying within him the weight of worlds, and the light of hope.
***
An hour later, the estate was once again alive with motion as a grand breakfast banquet was laid out beneath the morning sun.
Though it was just a simple pre-departure meal before the journey to the Forge Clan, it had taken on the air of a royal celebration.
Golden plates were filled with freshly roasted spirit beast meat, dew-kissed fruits picked from immortal gardens, and steaming celestial pastries that released fragrant waves of spiritual energy into the air.
Crystal-clear spirit wine glistened in cups, catching the light like liquid starlight.
Riley sat at the center of it all, flanked by his wives, their beauty rivaling the celestial fairies of legend.
They chatted and laughed around him, their joy lightening the atmosphere.
His demeanor was relaxed, his presence warm, even playful.
Yet despite his outward ease, everyone around him—guests, elders, cultivators, even guards—watched with silent intensity.
Every movement he made, every smile, every glance, was studied as if it contained the secret to enlightenment.
To the untrained eye, he was simply a handsome man enjoying his breakfast. But to those with sharpened senses, there was something profoundly different about him.
Evangeline, one of the strongest cultivators present, was among those watching in silence.
At first, she observed with casual interest, a polite smile on her lips.
But as time passed, that smile faded.
She furrowed her brows and extended her spiritual sense, discreetly attempting to gauge Riley’s cultivation.
Nothing.
She blinked, startled. That couldn’t be right.
"I can no longer see through him..." she whispered inwardly, the thought sending a chill down her spine.
Just yesterday, she could clearly sense that Riley was at the Immortal Ascension Realm, powerful yet within the expected bounds of cultivation.
But now... it was as if he had no cultivation at all.
Not suppressed. Not concealed.
Absent.
And yet, something about that absence was more terrifying than if he were radiating endless power.
It was like staring into a still lake and realizing it was an illusion hiding the mouth of a bottomless chasm.
Evangeline’s heartbeat quickened as she tried again, reaching deeper with her spiritual sense, this time using a secret technique meant to unveil veiled auras.
Still... nothing.
He wasn’t veiled. He simply... could not be seen. Not by her. Not by anyone.
Her hands trembled slightly beneath the table, and she quickly tucked them under her robe.
She glanced around, wondering if anyone else noticed.
Judging by the stiffened backs and widened eyes of several other cultivators in the room, she wasn’t alone in her realization.
A wave of dread passed through her.
She remembered—just a day ago—how she had regarded Riley as a mere nobody.
Strong, yes, but still a junior in the grand scheme of the immortal world.
She had even challenged him once, subtly testing his identity.
At the time, he had simply smiled, and looked at her—looked through her.
That gaze...
It had peeled her apart. In that moment, she was certain that Riley had seen through her every secret—her cultivation techniques, her bloodline origin, even the hidden trauma that she had buried in the depths of her soul.
She had dismissed it then, thinking it was some clever trick.
But now she knew better.
What if I had angered him back then? The thought struck her like a lightning bolt. Would I even still be alive?
She shivered despite the warmth of the sun on her skin.
Never had she been so frightened of someone who smiled so gently and spoke so kindly.
There was no arrogance in him, no cruel displays of power.
And yet... he was the most dangerous being she had ever encountered.
Her pride crumbled silently within her, replaced by a cold, instinctive reverence.
Riley was no longer just an extraordinary man in her eyes.
He was an enigma—a being who walked among immortals like a shadow that couldn’t be touched or measured.
As Riley raised his cup and toasted lightly to the journey ahead, his companions laughed and followed suit.
Evangeline bowed her head and raised her own cup slightly, not daring to meet his eyes again.
From that moment on, her respect was no longer rooted in social standing or strength.
It was fear born of recognition.
She didn’t know what Riley had become.
But she knew one thing for certain: she would never, ever treat him as an equal again.
***
An hour later, the sky was dominated by a colossal flying boat that soared through the heavens like a floating fortress.
Its massive frame shimmered with ancient runes, and its shadow blanketed the lands below as it glided with quiet majesty.
The vessel was so immense that it seemed to split the clouds apart as it passed, a symbol of overwhelming power and prestige.
But the grand vessel did not travel alone.
A legion of smaller flying boats flanked it on all sides, each one manned by elite cultivators clad in black and silver armor bearing a distinct emblem—an obsidian raven with wings outstretched.
Alongside them flew a host of enlightened beasts, their bodies wreathed in divine energy.
Some resembled giant serpents with wings of flame, others were colossal eagles with scales instead of feathers, and a few even bore humanoid shapes, clearly capable of intelligent speech.
The sheer scale of the procession was staggering. This was no simple journey—it was a declaration.
A display of the Raven Clan’s strength that shook the heavens with every passing moment.
They moved swiftly, as though time itself bent to their will.
In the blink of an eye, they had already crossed millions of miles, leaving streaks of light and ripples in the fabric of space as they traveled.
Yet despite their speed, their presence did not go unnoticed.
Far below and across the skies, powerful cultivators sensed the disturbance and paused their own cultivation or travels to look up.
Divine senses spread out like spiderwebs across the sky, trying to catch a glimpse of the source of such overwhelming momentum.
"That emblem..." muttered an old man meditating atop a mountain peak. His eyes opened slowly, sharp and wary.
"It’s the Immortal Raven Clan."
His voice trembled slightly with a mixture of awe and concern.
Around him, his disciples stirred.
Many like him took notice, and none could ignore the significance.
The Immortal Raven Clan did not move lightly—especially not in full force.
Such a grand escort signaled only one thing: something monumental was about to happen.
Curiosity burned in their hearts, and so, like shadows, dozens of powerful figures began to follow from afar.
They did not dare approach openly, nor did they want to risk confrontation.
But they watched. Observed. Waited.
The skies were no longer calm.
Whispers began to spread across the immortal realms:
The Raven Clan is on the move.
Something is coming.
And at the heart of the procession stood Riley, calm and unreadable, unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of the storm of speculation now brewing in his wake.