Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 1106 [The Virtual Emperor] [Crimson] [Mace] [His Boundless Cover]...

Xia Xiu's gaze inadvertently fell upon the two [God-given Colossi] standing silently deep within the Well of the Fire Seed. One was Prometheus, which had been transformed into a Gospel Mechanism and imbued with the aura of miracles through countless wars and sermons; the other was the Holy Judgment Mechanism, which had just been taken back from the tug-of-war between chaos and ether and still retained the shadows of the old era.

They stand like two monuments spanning eras, silently towering in the abyss of machinery and reason. Yet, at this moment, Xia Xiu couldn't help but feel a deeply inappropriate sentiment welling up within him.

Fate can be quite unpredictable sometimes.

Who would have thought that collecting all the elements would actually automatically unlock the ultimate achievement that hides the storyline?

The thought had barely crossed his mind, and before he could even form a complete complaint, Dr. Gear's voice, tinged with a hint of wistfulness, rang out from the side.

"I have to say, this is a development that even I didn't expect."

He looked at the two colossal statues, and for the first time, his tone carried a hint of relief.

"In a short period of time, the Kingdom of Heaven has actually taken control of two divinely bestowed colossi. One of them has even been completely reconstructed and shaped into a strategic machine like the Holy Gospel Machine. Now, with the addition of Crystal Star II's Holy Judgment Machine, the three colossi are complete."

He spoke slowly, but each word was firm, as if he were stating a logical chain that had been verified countless times.

“Give us a little more time, and through the divine resonance and information mapping between the three divinely bestowed colossi, we can reverse the existence range of the remaining components of Caronmaseld, and even… directly obtain the complete guidance of its inheritance path.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Dr. Gear slowly turned around and turned his gaze to the almost transparent figure beside him.

The old demon king, Armand, was now like a candle flickering in the wind, with tiny specks of information light constantly escaping from his edges, as if he were about to give up at any moment.

"Armond, you are now needed to continue contributing everything you have to the Kingdom of Heaven."

Dr. Gear's tone returned to that of a calm, almost ruthless decision-maker:
"What I need you to do is to make the most of your remaining power as a data ghost. Use all the permissions you have left as a data ghost, as well as the results of the programs you have deciphered, organized, and hidden over the years, to directly access the internal structure of the Dyson sphere and obtain information and authority related to Robert Bloom."

He didn't use mild terms like legacy or data, but pointed out the essence of the goal in an extremely straightforward manner.

“What we need is not historical records, but access, control, and the key that allows us to establish a deep interaction with the Son of God, Charonmaseld.”

After hearing this, Armand simply moved his shoulder, which no longer truly existed, as if an old joint had made a non-existent cracking sound in his memory. Then he revealed his usual, even somewhat unrestrained, smile.

“Come on…” he said, “Anyway, there’s no point in keeping this little bit of warmth I have left.”

Dr. Gear didn't waste any more words; clearly, he had anticipated this answer from the beginning. He turned to Xia Xiu and continued:

"Next, we need your cooperation. I need you, in your miraculous capacity, to help us further unlock the deepest information left behind by the god of all machines."

Xia Xiu did not hesitate.

He simply nodded.

In the next instant, three halos, as pure and majestic as white jade, silently appeared behind him. The halos rotated slowly, not overlapping each other, but forming a stable and perfect structural mapping in a higher dimension.

At the same time, within the Super Ebony Layer, the [Final Sun], which had already completed its intrinsic transformation, quietly responded. The information authority belonging to the great spirituality extended downwards from the seventh level like an invisible tide. Meanwhile, the planetary module sealed near his second heart also fully activated at this moment, with a deep and grand hum of computation echoing in the deepest mechanical space of the Well of Fire.

When Dr. Gear saw Xia Xiu nod in agreement, his expression became even calmer. He took out the golden gear that had briefly appeared before, which seemed to carry too many secrets, from the inside of his white robe.

The gear wasn't large, but its edges were unsettlingly precise. The angles of its teeth didn't conform to any known industrial standard; rather, they carried a certain designed inevitability.

The next moment, he casually tossed the gear into the air.

There was no spinning sound, nor did it fall.

The moment the golden gear froze in mid-air, space seemed to be gently tugged by an invisible hand, and then—countless phantom images of gears emerged from the void.

They vary in size and shape; some resemble the escapement wheel of an ancient clock, others the transmission core of a magnificent mechanical temple, and still others are merely abstract geometric outlines, yet they maintain a terrifyingly precise meshing relationship with each other.

These gears do not unfold along space, but are embedded like concepts in the gaps between the layers of reality, turning slowly and orderly, emitting a computational echo that does not exist in the air.

Xia Xiu's [Triple Crown] gave a response at that moment.

He immediately realized that this was a crowning realm, but not entirely.

Even the most bizarre and counterintuitive crown realms are always anchored within the seventh level of the ether, representing a coverage, distortion, or rewriting of the existing world structure.

But the realm unfolding before him by the golden gears gave him an extremely abrupt sense of dislocation, as if it did not unfold from the ether, but was projected from some source of logic that did not belong to this world.

It was a structure that shouldn't exist in this world, like a core module from another universe's operating system that had been forcibly inserted into the interface of the current world.

Before Xia Xiu could further analyze the essence of this gear-like domain, his senses were forcibly seized by another force.

It was a kind of fluctuation that he was extremely familiar with.

It shares the same origin, frequency, and structure as the planetary modules within his body—it comes from the Dyson sphere.

The ultimate structure that shrouds the star Crystal Hypostasis and was constructed using technology left behind by the God of Machines has now had its backdoor protocol activated by this golden gear. Its massive energy and information flow, large enough to cover planetary civilizations, reveals a clear and cold outline at the etheric level.

Dr. Gear's voice rang out decisively at that moment, without the slightest hesitation:

"It's now."

The moment the words left his mouth, Xia Xiu moved.

He no longer suppressed his own status, and [Intrinsic Sign - End of the Blazing Sun] suddenly shone brightly in the depths of the seventh level of the Ether. That pitch-black sun, which devoured everything, fully unleashed the authority of great spirituality.

The array of the [Low Orbit World Cannon] locks in the high-dimensional structure, and the terrifying torrent of information is instantly compressed, calibrated, and aligned.

Then, it was released with a bang!
There was no explosion.

The Dyson sphere's protective network wasn't breached, but rather overwhelmed by a deluge of information flooding with commands. Under this barrage of demands, the entire system shut down, gave up, and forcibly refused to provide service.

Layer upon layer of defense protocols, redundant checks, and a divine firewall are all simultaneously bombarded by a flood of invalid requests, causing response delays to be amplified infinitely, and the logical loops begin to self-protectively shut down.

Within the etheric layer, a massive rift was forcibly torn open, like an unhealable wound appearing on the surface of a star.

And the moment the crack formed, Amund did not hesitate for a moment.

The old demon king's figure completely disintegrated, transforming into a torrent of data composed of countless "0"s and "1"s, no longer retaining any human outline. It was like a terminal program that knew it was destined to perish but still chose to execute at full speed, rushing straight into that rift.

The moment he entered, Xia Xiu's Ophiuchus Protocol interface suddenly lit up.

A cold yet precise system notification appeared in his mind.

[Ophiuchus Protocol - Remote Anchored Startup]

[Target Node: Dyson Sphere - Core Information Layer]

[Cross-level connection being established...]

[Permission Verification: Miracle Rank - Passed]

[Link Status: Stable]

The moment the link was established, Xia Xiu's consciousness seemed to be drawn by an invisible and gentle hand, silently overlapping with Amund's data ghost.

He was no longer an observer, but shared the same sensory axis with the old demon king in a higher and deeper way. His vision, analysis, and judgment overlapped in an instant. He was even able to slowly and restrainedly project his great spirituality along that fragile yet still tenacious information channel, turning it into a layer of protection, a little acceleration, and a bit of extra stability.

At that moment, he also clearly realized that Armand was really nearing its end. This was the coldest truth in the Ether hierarchy—information decay, structural loosening, and a continuous decline in the weight of existence.

But the old demon king seemed unusually calm about this. The emotions transmitted back through the information stream were not fear or resentment, but more like a sense of relief after unloading a heavy burden, as if he could finally hand over all the unfinished responsibilities to the successors.

He then began to hack into the miracles left behind by the god of all machines.

……

……

Following Amund's perspective, Xia Xiu's perception was dragged into the depths of the information left behind by the God of Myriad Machines. It was neither space nor place, but a piece of original remains that was collapsing yet still maintained a magnificent order.

He saw traces of the broken pope.

It was a core of existence so vast that it defied measurement, like a divine relic composed of countless layers of overlapping, rotating, and misaligned structures. Its form was unstable, like a star that was slowly dying but still blazing brightly, or a temple gnawed by time, its outer shell broken and its interior exposed. Countless golden, dark red, and gray-white interwoven information patterns flowed, collapsed, and regenerated on its surface, forming a rhythm that was almost painful yet still solemn.

It was not complete; in fact, it was utterly broken. Some areas were completely disordered, logic was broken, and causal loops were exposed like blood vessels that had been forcibly torn open. Even so, the aura that slowly emanated from the depths of its essence still caused Xia Xiu's information integration body to instinctively slow down its processing frequency.

That was the afterglow of supreme divinity, the foundation that once supported an era, a belief, and a lineage of civilization.

This is the essential legacy left by Robert Bloom—a supreme divinity that can be understood.

This is an existence that is infinitely close to "the god of resurrection and eternal proof". Even after his failure and shattering, his traces are still etched in the bottom of the world.

While Xia Xiu was still in awe, Amond had already begun his operation at the edge of this original ruin, following the pre-arranged instructions of Dr. Gear. His figure, composed of pure data, appeared small in front of the magnificent ruins, yet was exceptionally resolute.

He carefully and precisely inscribed each mark, and the information patterns on the intrinsic surface lit up, responded, and unfolded, finally allowing the long-dormant mechanism to be activated by the correct key.

This is the final step.

Under the gaze of the remnants of supreme divinity, and witnessed by the great spirit, the old demon king is using his remaining time to pry open the door that should have been closed long ago, for the sake of heaven, for Xia Xiu, and for this world.

When the old demon king, with his already tattered data shell, forcibly tore open this comprehensible supreme divinity, his existence was destined to come to an end.

Amund's figure faded inch by inch in the ether, as if gently but irreversibly erased by time itself. The information structure began to disintegrate, collapse, and return to background noise. But he did not turn back or hesitate. He simply raised his hand in the direction where Xia Xiu was and casually and freely made a goodbye gesture.

“I see, I see, so this is what it is… Abraham, whatever you see later, don’t be surprised.”

When the old man tore open the supreme divinity, he had already seen some things inside. So before he dissipated, he deliberately gave Xia Xiu a word of advice in a teasing tone.

"Old man, you're about to die, and you're still acting so improper," Xia Xiu couldn't help but retort in his mind.

At the same time, he instinctively mobilized his great spirituality in that instant, trying to pull himself back from the brink of collapse. But before the power could be fully unleashed, the mark that Armand had carved himself suddenly burst forth with a dazzling light—not a destructive light, but a kind of brilliance that was allowed to be revealed.

The next moment, an extremely special, even overstepping, piece of information made direct contact with the great spirituality within Xia Xiu's body.

That is not language, not images, and not any definable unit of perception.

Rather, it is understanding itself.

Then he saw... the beginning of all things.

……

……

……

On that level, which is neither time nor space, Xia Xiu witnessed the origin of everything.

The original place was called the "Domain of Illusion".

There is neither light nor darkness; neither movement nor stillness; there is no difference between "before" and "after," time loses its meaning, cause and effect cannot take effect, and even the concept of "existence" itself seems superfluous and crude.

Everything remains empty in the most extreme way—not emptiness, but a desert where even "emptiness" has not yet been established.

All things are formless and intangible, yet they are fixed in some indescribable position, neither flowing nor changing, as if the whole world is still in a state where it has not yet been allowed to happen.

This is the origin of the ether, where nothing existed before.

Until one moment—a door was opened.

Xia Xiu was amazed by the door, because it looked very much like the "Twin Doors" hanging in the sky above Terra.

It is not a portal in the spatial sense, but a loosening of boundaries. From that source that has no beginning and no end, that encompasses everything yet does not manifest any specific form, a vitality is released.

It is not grand, but real enough; it has no will, but carries the possibility of what can happen.

This power, like clear yet inexhaustible living water, poured into the Realm of Illusion, disturbing the eternal silence for the first time.

And so, the narrative begins.

The most primal motion is no longer displacement, but the generation of differences; the initial change is not form, but something that can be distinguished.

In this unfolding event, which has yet to be named, an embodiment of narrative emerges.

It is neither a deity nor a person, but the first node to bear the burden of differentiation.

"The Void Emperor..." Xia Xiu's information quickly came to the name of this being.

[The Void Emperor] seemed to see something. His gaze passed through the present and saw the extremely distant future, and Xia Xiu... No, he was not looking at Xia Xiu, he was only looking at the entire era in which Xia Xiu lived.

After that, He didn't pay much attention and continued working.

All that could be seen was the [Void Emperor] exhaling three streams of primordial energy. These were neither elements nor energy, but rather three of the most fundamental orientations of existence—they did not explain the world, but rather determined how the world was explained.

These three origins permeated and spread across the boundaries of the Realm of Illusion, raising countless tiny and bright narrative bubbles from the original living water.

Each bubble is a "possible world." They float in the void, some approaching each other, gradually coalescing into a stable structure through resonance, absorbing the weight from the higher narrative matrix, and evolving into a self-consistent and complete image; others project their own information vibrations outward, embedding themselves into the structure of other bubbles, becoming new deductive variables; still others conflict with each other before they mature, shattering into smaller sequences, becoming footnotes and afterimages of future worlds.

Driven by these fundamental narrative forces, the Realm of Illusion is no longer a desolate wasteland.

The story begins to have a beginning and a continuation, the changes gradually take direction, and the world is given a—[setting].

These narrative bubbles often exist in clusters around certain powerful themes. They grow, differentiate, and evolve along with a core narrative known as "official history." The bubbles on the periphery, though reflections and echoes of official history, are mostly unable to truly interfere with its trajectory. They can only repeatedly enact similar but irreplaceable possibilities outside the established track.

Xia Xiu stood at the source of all this, watching how the world was allowed to happen, watching how meaning was born from nothing.

However, there is a very special collection of narratives, in which the so-called "official history" bubble does not exist at the very center, so the bubbles are scattered and floating.

Xia Xiu was utterly horrified at this moment!
Big boss...

Yes, that is the scent of Eden.

Eden has actually transcended the initial narrative... How can this feeling be described? It's as if the author is holding a pen and creating everything in his book, but the pen in his hand suddenly comes to life, seizes the right to create, and forcibly opens a separate page in the creation catalog called "Settings".

The Chronicles of Terra...!?!
For no apparent reason, Xia Xiu recalled his game name from his previous life before he transmigrated, and he seemed to understand something.

Everything is still unfolding.

But just as the narrative line called "official history" reached a certain point, Xia Xiu suddenly noticed something unusual—it wasn't an obstruction, nor was it alteration, but rather a complete blank.

The [Virtual Emperor] has disappeared.

It is not a fall, nor an erasure, but rather a removal from the narrative itself.

That period of history has not collapsed, but it can no longer be read; time continues to move forward, and cause and effect continue to operate, but everything about "why He disappeared," "where He went," and "what happened" is sealed in an area that cannot be decoded.

Xia Xiu quickly understood the reason; these were not things he was supposed to see.

Everything he was seeing at that moment came from his own [miracle personhood], and also from the echoes of the vision that Robert Bloom had once seen and left his mark upon.

It was that broken pope who briefly touched this narrative river, coming very close to the edge of "one witness for all time," and thus his message left an inheritable shadow in the ruins of the god of all machines.

Now, Xia Xiu simply followed that shadow and saw the perspective left by Brom, as well as the "history" that He came into contact with.

As the observable portion of official history comes to an end, the narrative does not cease.

Instead, some more familiar, yet more ancient, entities began to emerge.

The first thing to appear was the [Continuation of Civilization - Iron Crown] that had been dormant within him for a long time and had not made its appearance.

It slowly took shape in the light, like a symbol awakened from the depths of time.

The crown is magnificent and solemn, composed of layers of overlapping metal arcs, inscribed with the marks of civilizations that are not written words but can be understood; twelve gems, like stars, are set on it, each burning with a different frequency of light, reflecting the silhouette of a civilization that has vanished or is vanishing.

The Iron Crown was incomplete, so it did not respond when Xia Xiu attained enlightenment [miracle].

However, he did not expect that the survival of civilization would suddenly respond at this moment as a wedge.

Then, Xia Xiu saw even more.

A torrent of information from beyond the borders, like an echo of a narrative not belonging to this place, poured in through the boundaries; in that unnamed space, a rootless tree appeared.

It does not grow on the land, but is placed directly within the narrative.

The moment it was planted, the first order was born—this is the Tree of Knowledge.

It contains all the [settings], and the original owners of these [settings] were the self-proclaimed supreme divinities, the primordial innate gods.

When the bellows wind—the primordial wind of the universe—blows by, the treetops tremble, and each leaf makes a different sound. It is not the sound of the wind in nature, but the murmur of logic, formulas, language, and laws; the branches extend, condensing into scrolls of books, transforming into a vast and boundless sea of ​​knowledge.

That is—the Library of the Exiled.

Deep within the library, a giant serpent coils beneath it, its scales reflecting the light of countless narrative versions, silent and patient.

Narratives take shape through stability and grow through change.

It is no longer a chaotic bubble, but rather a huge staircase that rises from the bottom up, building logic and causality step by step, filtering, solidifying, and extending possibilities. This is the "Grand Narrative Ladder".

This scene gave Xia Xiu an indescribable sense of familiarity.

This thing is exactly what he saw in heaven... the 'Spiral Path'!?!
With the help of the iron crown, Xia Xiu saw more; he saw.

In the vast shadow cast by the Tree of Knowledge, amidst the suffering piled high with dust and blood, an outline that does not belong to order slowly crawls out from the cracks.

It was a great demon capable of devouring and erasing all living and dying spirits.

His name is repeatedly marked and warned about in the narrative—the great demon Khahrahk.

He placed the seven sharp horns (those created when order was torn apart) on his head, which transformed into a scarlet crown, and proclaimed himself the "Crimson King".

He draws power from the cracks of disorder, growing stronger with each battle amidst the siege of the gods and the repeated revisions of the narrative, and challenges the gods in the trees.

At this moment, the serpent of the library spoke to the primordial gods and to the entire ether, revealing the essence of the deep red.

"The Crimson King is actually a projection of the extraterrestrial demon, the Crimson Demon."

"The Crimson Demon has no mind, but it can project itself into narrative bubbles, amplifying the evil of a certain character within them, thereby gradually seizing his personality and power. When the chaos, disorder, anti-rationality, and anti-authoritarianism it causes reach their peak, it can finally condense into a physical form."

"It is not inherently red, but because the people who observe it forcibly project all the symbols of passion, turmoil, bloodshed, and unease into red, it appears red in their eyes."

The Crimson Demon is actually one of the fundamental forces in narrative, responsible for propelling the narrative in a negative and tortuous direction.

It dwells before contradictions and dramatic plot twists, quietly infiltrating from the very beginning of the illusion, lying dormant in the chaos. Once order is established, it awakens, roaring where reason and nature are torn apart.

Ultimately, the entire Tree of Knowledge burned fiercely because of Him, and the Realm of Illusion was also destroyed.

All destinies—metaphysical, physical, past, future, possible and impossible—from origin to end, from the origin of the end to the end of the origin—are all burned to ashes.

However, this fire cannot truly destroy either side; it will only plunge everything into an eternal burning.

Finally, the innate gods sacrificed themselves, banishing the Crimson King from the bubble and granting him wisdom, so that he could no longer be inherently evil or access the complete negative narrative.

If He wants to return to His peak, He must destroy the world again.

He was exiled.

But exile is not without its costs.

In the fissure of His expulsion, an unprecedented gap was torn open—not out of hostility or malice, but out of the very first flaw in the narrative itself.

It was later called chaos.

Chaos is not a specific entity, but rather the moment when "the system allows itself to cease to be self-consistent".

Just as this rift was about to close, a metallic dragon appeared from the void.

He was not born, but invoked by the narrative. His body is composed of gears, halos, and infinitely nested structures. Each flap of his wings is a deduction; each murmur is a calibration.

He calculated the secrets of heaven, rearranged the calendar, reassembled everything that was broken, and rewrote the laws that had been burned.

It's not about returning to the old order, but about enabling the new world to function.

Thus, stability reappeared.

But stability is not complete. On the other side of the metal dragon, in the shadows where the narrative has not yet closed, a serpent of flesh emerges.

He is the counterpart, the reflection, the inevitable mirror image.

In a very short instant, He completed seventy transformations.

Every change triggers a recombination of matter; every recombination brings a response to the "inert structure".

When the seventieth transformation ended, for the first time, matter was no longer merely arranged, but—a soul was born.

Thus, the first truly living organism was born.

It is not a specific individual, but a template written into reality, carrying the original genetic information of all future life, becoming the starting point of "reproduction", "evolution" and "will".

Without a doubt, this is displeasure—[His boundless coverage].

And on His opposite side is His nemesis, His opposite, the one He cannot cover up or destroy, the complete [McKahn].

And in the very end, the entire narrative converges on a blue planet... Terra!
Xia Xiu was not immediately immersed in the shock of glimpsing the origin; on the contrary, he quickly realized that things were far from over.

Or rather, what he saw should not be simply accepted as the truth.

If the present world has its own rules, such as the Big Bang, physical constants, and the structure of spacetime, then what he just encountered was more like a narrative layer called the "Etheric Ocean"—not reality itself, but an explanation of how reality is written.

That's not just history; it's more like a narrative that's been repeatedly rewritten, constantly revised, and even contested for the right to speak by different entities.

It has two sides.

It is both the history of the birth of the supreme divinity and a logical framework constructed by later generations to understand why the supreme divinity exists.

What alarmed Xia Xiu even more was that he clearly sensed traces of interference in that narrative.

It comes not from the past, but from the present, from Eden.

Even the Eden, the heavenly think tank that exists in the present world, is reaching out to try to repair, delete, and correct that narrative, making it understandable, inheritable, and acceptable to the genealogy.

Xia Xiu knew very well what this meant—this narrative was not stable.

As for [Mace] and [His boundless coverage]...

That would make things even more complicated.

They are undoubtedly supreme divinity, truly immortal and indestructible, their status so high that they cannot be fully anchored by conventional narratives.

The problem is that a high position does not necessarily equate to having the ability to write narratives.

The present [Mace] is broken, incomplete, and asleep; and [His boundless cover] cannot even be called a conscious self.

They may indeed be older than the Crimson King, so ancient that they transcend the narrative system itself;

Or perhaps, as I see it, it truly is an existence that was deduced in a primordial stage, in the gap between chaos and order.

Both possibilities are true.

Even more possibilities could be true simultaneously.

Moreover, in this narrative of history, Chaos is portrayed as the son of the Crimson King... If the Four Lords knew this, their expressions would probably be quite interesting.

This is what truly troubles Xia Xiu—what he is seeing now is not a history that can be easily verified, but a source narrative that has been watched by many parties, repeatedly used, and continuously tampered with.

In layman's terms, what he is seeing now is a compilation of the histories of various major powers.

Therefore, he did not choose to accept it entirely.

He only remembered a few things.

First, the existence of the [Virtual Emperor] is not fictional; He may be the primary cause of all realms.

Secondly, above the narrative, there is indeed the authority of the narrative itself.

Third, the Crimson King is indeed a universally hated figure; he is an enemy of everything, a being that even Chaos finds disgusting.

Fourth, the world is far more complex than it appears on the surface. To the supreme divinity, history can truly be a little girl who can be dressed up however one pleases!
Regardless, he also gained some insight into the truth of the world, the truth of heaven, and the truth of Terra.

Twin Gates, Terra Chronicles, Tree of Knowledge, Library of the Exiled, Spiral Path...

These are all related to the original narrative, and also involve the root of all contradictions.

Xia Xiu didn't neglect his business. While reading the historical compilation, he also extracted information and permissions related to [Kalonmaseld] from the supreme divine remnants left by Brom.

At the same time, Brom also imitated the history of the [Void Emperor] exhaling three streams of primordial energy in this narrative, creating a unique path of miracles.

This Broken Pope used it as a collaborative control program to work with the three colossi, and he also considered it a prerequisite key for inheriting [Kalombuseld].

Robert Bloom called this miraculous path "The Way of Ten Thousand Machines: One Thought Transforms into Three Venerables".

Only by mastering the ability to transform one thought into three deities can one possess the complete right to inherit the title of [Kalonmaseld].