I Can Assimilate Everything

Chapter 267: Glacivane II
He hovered with ease, casting a long, cold shadow over the frozen tundra below. Astral light pulsed from his form in slow, rhythmic waves, bathing the frost-laden clouds in pale illumination. His body, clad in shimmering silver-blue armor, radiated a biting cold that seeped into the very air. Yet it was not the armor that caught Achilles’ eye.

It was his bones.

They glowed.

Brilliant.

Otherworldly.

A stark, undeniable sign of Celestbone Stage Ascension.

His skeleton burned with a light so pure, so compressed, it was as if stars had been captured and fused within mortal flesh. He did not need to move or speak. His mere presence carried the weight of an empire.

The Throne of Glacivane.

An Emperor of Ice and Bone!

His gaze was already locked onto Achilles, calm and implacable, carrying the depth of one who had ruled longer than most could fathom. Around them, the air trembled, the snow at Achilles’ feet stirring in reverent swirls.

The meeting of two rulers- one forged in fire and dream, the other tempered in the cold of an endless winter.

Neither spoke.

But the air between them crackled with a silent anticipation, like a blade waiting to be drawn.

The wind whispered, weaving between them, carrying with it the low howl of the tundra and the distant rumble of shifting glaciers.

Above the frozen sprawl, Lancelot of the Glacivane Dynasty spoke first.

His voice was low and even, yet it carried the weight of years, of battles fought and decisions made.

“I have known Aliya since she was young,” Lancelot said, his gaze never leaving Achilles. “Long before she and her brother ever touched the reins of the Magitech Dynasty. I knew her talents, her burdens, and her unyielding mind. Even then, she weighed matters more carefully than most.”

He paused, letting the words settle in the cold air. The auroras overhead painted his polished armor in shifting hues of silver and blue, as if the skies themselves bowed to listen.

“For her to speak of you as she did- to entrust her people’s future to a foreign power with such conviction…” His voice sharpened, a slight narrowing of the eyes. “That is not something I can easily ignore.”

He turned, his gaze sweeping the expanse of his cities. Glacial citadels glittered under the endless night, scattered like frozen stars across the tundra.

“I want to ask you bluntly.” His words cut through the air, direct as a blade. “What is your goal? Your true aim, gathering all these Colony Cities- and more?”

His head turned back, and his silver-blue gaze bored into Achilles, steady and unflinching.

“Your capability defies reason,” Lancelot said, voice quieter but no less cutting. “It approaches the realms where only the Ancient Ones tread. But forget all of that…”

He gestured outward, a slow sweep of his hand that encompassed the whole frozen dominion around them.

“…why? Why are you doing this?”

The wind caught his question, carrying it outward into the waiting dark.

A faint, humorless smile tugged at Lancelot’s lips.

“And please,” he said, almost wryly, “do not tell me it is for the good of all mankind, or that your heart overflows with love for those you seek to save.”

…!

Achilles’ Primordial Avatar remained still, the faint starlight reflecting in the crimson-gold depths of his eyes.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

Deliberate.

Measured.

When he spoke, his voice was calm, unwavering, the tone of one who already knew the weight of what he was about to say.

“The Ancient Ones seek to enslave Humanity again,” Achilles said. His voice carried, not loud, but strong enough to cut through the wind. “Their destruction is not mindless. It is deliberate. Because of something called Planar Destiny.”

At the name, something unseen shifted in the air. The wind seemed to falter. But Lancelot’s face remained an unreadable mask.

“Raising the Colony Cities into the skies, severing them from the Evolutius Catacombs and the Wild Lands-it will save millions of lives.”

Achilles’ gaze did not waver.

“And that is something I desire.”

But he was not finished.

The light in his eyes deepened, swirling as if stars themselves moved behind them.

“But it is not the only reason.”

He let the words fall like hammer blows.

“I am interested in Planar Destiny itself. I mean to take it before they do. If saving countless lives is a consequence of that pursuit, then so be it.”

He spoke without flourish, without apology.

The truth, plain and undeniable.

As he finished, he reflected briefly- on the forging in the sea, on the Living Cataclysmic Star Weapons that bore the touch of some unseen fortune, on the rising weight of Complexity bending the weave of fate around him.

He was slowly seeing the sikent effects of Planar Destiny.

…!

Lancelot said nothing at first.

He studied Achilles for a long moment, the icy wind swirling between them.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

For the first time since Achilles’ arrival, a real smile broke across his features.

Small.

Sharp.

And Lancelot exhaled, a cloud of mist vanishing into the cold.

“I much rather trust a man who admits he has something to gain,” he said, voice low but edged with approval, “than a saint who claims to do it all for the good of mankind.”

He chuckled, brief and without humor, but there was something genuine beneath it.

“Good.”

His silver-blue eyes gleamed, not with naivete, but with the wisdom of long winters survived.

“I have watched over these Colony Cities for more than fifty years. They are my home. My burden. My pride.”

He turned, once more looking out across the frozen cities. Their lights twinkled like stars trapped in a sea of ice.

“If you can take them to the skies as you have with the others…” He turned back to Achilles, his voice steady. “Please. Do it.”

…!

The wind howled again, but softer this time.

Almost, hopeful.

Achilles inclined his head, a silent acknowledgment between rulers.

No more words were needed.

Already the starlight around him began to gather, wreathing his form.

The Colony Cities of the Glacivane Dynasty would rise.

And with them, the Adrastia Dynasty would grow stronger.

Ever stronger before the Triarcan Keep!