Noah's eyes remained closed as he digested the flood of information from his latest elevation and without question, it was glorious.

For once, the threads of fate, destiny, and causality of Earth had detached themselves from the planet, flooding through his being, merging seamlessly with those already belonging to Laeh. His body was no longer one of flesh and bone.

It was made of threads.

Each strand pulsed with power, vibrating in harmony with the rhythm of existence itself.

Soon, he would no longer use Providence.

He would become Providence.

With this new structure, his abilities expanded beyond all reasonable limits. In a single casual glance toward the void he floated in, Noah could see the threads that composed the universe itself, infinite, intricate, and begging for his touch.

And he could manipulate them as easily as one stretches a sore limb.

His body of threads was no weaker for it. On the contrary, with two living worlds and their stars pulsing within him, even a flick of his finger could reduce a mid-ranked world to cosmic dust, and a single serious punch could shatter a high-ranked world into a rain of broken continents and dying skies.

With the sun and moon flowing through his blood, Noah now wielded partial dominion over their very concepts and, by extension, over the stars themselves.

Merging the light of the stars with Providence, his perception pierced the folds of reality with disturbing ease, allowing him to see and understand what few beings were meant to comprehend.

And then there was the primordial energy of the universe nourishing his Law of Providence and deepening his understanding to terrifying depths.

But that was not its only purpose. He could feel something else within it, something that called to him, a purpose that reached not only higher, but deeper.

His instincts and unnatural perception sharpened as the words once spoken to him within Evadam's Relic of Earth resurfaced in his mind:

"To reach the truth of all objective and imagined realities is to know how to swim upstream in the Great River."

Noah repeated the sentence inwardly, and his thoughts anchored to a single word.

Upstream.

His mind expanded and understanding poured into it like a waterfall filling a boundless basin.

Upstream meant defiance. It meant moving against the current, against the natural order, refusing to drift along with the countless others who accepted the flow.

To go upstream was to walk where no one dared.

And Noah's goal was perfection.

So he asked himself the inevitable question…had anyone who walked this so-called path of power ever truly reached perfection?

He didn't know the answer.

But he knew one who would.

Without hesitation, his lips curved faintly as he spoke into the silent void.

"Tell me, dear Records," Noah said softly, his voice calm, smooth, and filled with quiet amusement. "Has anyone ever become perfect by following the path of power this universe knows?"

Behind him, Evadam was still watching, but now with something far deeper than curiosity. Awe flickered and danced in his eyes like the reflection of a newborn sun. He had felt the trembling of the universe like every other god, monster, and hidden divine beings across existence. And in that instant, more than ever, he knew…no, he was certain.

This man…

This being standing before him was not merely extraordinary. He was the very definition of what it meant to go beyond.

"Yes," Evadam whispered, his voice breaking into a breathless laugh before rising into a shout, "yes, goddamn yes! This is what a goddamn abomination should be!"

His grin widened with feral excitement, his entire body trembling as if drunk on revelation. "A being that devours reason! One that redefines it!"

He was ecstatic.

Noah could sense the man's exhilaration even across the void but he didn't turn. His attention was fixed elsewhere.

Because The Records had spoken.

{You have earned yourself an answer from us, Noah Vaelgrim.}

The voice echoed in his skull, heavy and slow, each syllable a deliberate chime that carried through the folds of existence.

A long pause followed, as though the universe itself hesitated to deliver the truth. Then slowly…

{No being has ever reached perfection through this path of power.}

Noah did not flinch. No surprise marked his face. He only smiled faintly, because deep down, he had already known.

This new knowledge cut through the darkness of his mind like a blade of light, stripping away all illusions.

'I've been an anomaly since the very beginning,' he thought. 'One who walks where others fear to look. I've defied the laws of creation, spat at the concept of divinity, and every time I've done it, the universe itself has shivered in disbelief.'

He had broken logic, rewritten laws, and played with threads meant only for beings as old as the universe.

He was dazzling, but not yet truly unique.

Because in truth, he had still been walking a road laid down by others…the same path of power all beings followed, even if he had twisted it to his will.

That realization struck him sharper than any blade.

'Even if I'm an anomaly,' he mused, 'then I'm still only a glorified reflection of ordinary transcendence. I'm no different from the others.'

He exhaled softly, the faintest laugh escaping his lips.

"That's not what I want," he murmured to himself, the words resonating through the void like quiet thunder.

His eyes opened, now bright and endless.

'My own power progression. My own path. My own system.'

He smiled wryly, shaking his head at the irony.

"How could I tell Evadam to forge his own path," he whispered, "while I've yet to forge mine?"

It was so painfully, blindingly obvious since the beginning.

All he needed was a path, his own ladder toward perfection. A structure that could be molded, broken, and rebuilt endlessly until something truly immaculate, something blasphemous beyond comprehension, emerged from it.

Yes.

He had to swim upstream the Great River.

Noah's eyes began to shine, brilliance surging through the void like a second dawn. For an instant, the manaless expanse was bathed in his radiance, until the light dimmed again, condensing back into his gaze, burning steady and alive.

A slow smile stretched across his lips.

His hand came to rest over his chest, over the world pulsing within him.

"Evadam will create a path through Earth's logic and knowledge," he said softly. Then his smirk curved sharper, hungrier. "I will create mine through a logic only I can understand."

He remembered Evadam's ambition for perfection, and amusement flickered in his eyes.

How curious. How delightful.

"Well then," he murmured to the void, "shall we see who reaches it first? The progenitor of humans… or a former reincarnated human?"

His thoughts burned bright with resolve.

'My own path, spirit world. My next steps are set in stone.'

He shook his head lightly, dismissing the flood of possibilities crowding his mind, and turned his gaze toward the object still floating before him, the heart he had torn from his own chest.

It throbbed faintly, radiating a power so dense it warped the air and folded the fabric of space around it. Each drop of pristine white blood that slid from it fell into the void and birthed strange creatures, before they drifted away, vanishing into the dark.

Noah could feel every one of them. Their existence was linked to his pulse. But he didn't call them back. He let them go, granting them the chance to become more than they were meant to be.

His eyes returned to the heart, his fingers brushing his chin in quiet thought.

"This heart…" he murmured, "There are so many things I could do with it…"

His voice dropped lower, almost fond.

"…and I haven't decided what to do with it."

But then, something stirred inside his mind, cutting through the storm of thought like lightning through mist. A memory. A promise.

One he had made to an emotionless being.

Lucie.

The one born not of nature nor divinity, but of mortals.

"I wonder," Noah murmured, his voice low, tinged with curiosity and something almost amused, "will you feel something if I give you my heart?"

A quiet chuckle escaped him, soft and unhurried, rippling through the stillness.

"First," he decided, "I'll need to cleanse it. Strip it of me."

With a gesture, his will reached into the heart floating before him. The threads of his emotions — his attachments, his love, his fury — began to unravel like silk from a loom, each strand glowing with a distinct light as he drew them out one by one.

He started with the love he bore for his wives, the gentle warmth that had once filled the space between his breaths. He lifted it carefully, like something fragile, and whispered, "Be."

From that love, silver rings took form. Wedding rings, carved not by hands but by affection itself.

Next came his hatred for the Worldborn. He tore it free, and it screamed soundlessly as it left his heart. A black mark appeared before him, writhing with malice… then vanished, swallowed by the void, claimed by something unseen.

His love for his siblings followed, a crimson wolf stepped forth from his heart, its eyes bright with fierce loyalty, and beside it, a colossal golden-green tome opened with a breath of wind. Its pages were blank.

Then came his love for his children, two necklaces manifested, silver-gold and gleaming. One was shaped like a wolf, the other a fox, both small yet radiant, carrying the essence of the father who forged them.

Finally, his affection for his friends, created understanding. A clarity of purpose and direction, a piece of his own enlightenment. That understanding flowed away from him, threading itself through the fabric of creation to find those it belonged to.

When it was done, the heart before him no longer pulsed with his emotions. It was clean, emptied of feeling, stripped of everything that tied it to Noah Vaelgrim.

And yet, within its depths, a faint glimmer remained.

A single wisp of him.

He reached forward, fingers closing around the heart and then slowly turned his head, his pale gaze cutting through the unseen layers of existence.

His eyes pierced through billions of veils until they met a pair of brown ones staring back at him.

Evadam. The genderless progenitor of humankind.

For a moment, silence stretched…

Then Noah smiled, wide and sharp. His voice rippled through the folds of reality, as if he were whispering directly into Evadam's ear.

"Are you ready for your new life, Ancestor?"

Evadam blinked, then grinned with equal brightness, excitement flaring like wildfire behind their calm. "You took your goddamn time, Noah!"

Noah chuckled, then raising a single finger, he pointed toward Evadam… and then at the white realm surrounding them, the sacred Relic of Earth.

"From now on," Noah intoned, amusement and command laced perfectly together, "you are mine."

Evadam didn't resist. There was no need to.

After all, when the voice of Providence declared ownership, the universe did not question.

It obeyed.

In that instant, the countless threads that made up Evadam were pulled into Noah's being. The white realm of the Relic of Earth followed, unraveling like silk and reweaving itself within him.

That day, Noah obtained a progenitor.

And that day…

He smiled faintly, the world-heart within his chest pulsing once more.

"Let's go back, shall we?"

Noah Vaelgrim returned to Laeh.

—End of Chapter 378—

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