The white-grey silhouette shattered like glass. Adrian staggered back into his human form, breath ragged, skin pale, his body trembling from exhaustion.
Nothing remained inside him. His liquefied mana was gone, completely drained, every last drop spent on that single strike.
If Tharion had been stronger, if his flames had endured a second longer, Adrian knew it would be his body scattered as ash across the void.
"Never again," he told himself.
"No more overconfidence. The galaxy is too vast, it's filled with beings and mysteries far greater than anything, I can't mistake growth for invincibility."
A ripple of golden essence appeared beside him. The Imperial Overseer manifested.
"By decree of the Aethelian Empire," his voice thundered through the arena, reaching every corner of the infinite space, "this duel is concluded. Victory to Adrian Blackwood. Death to Tharion Drakenholt. Confirmed and sealed."
The crowd erupted.
Spectators pressed against barriers, some weeping, others roaring approval. The Drakenholt warriors in the stands sat frozen, their faces hollow as they prepared to escape.
The Overseer continued without pause, his eyes fixed on Adrian. "By decree of the Empire, the victor inherits all wealth, estates, star systems, and assets of the Drakenholt Clan. And before the witness of the galaxy, you may now declare your clan… here and now."
Shock rippled through the audience. Normally, the process required endless bureaucracy, registrations, proof of specialty, and immense crystal deposits.
Yet here, the Overseer skipped every step. The empire was laying its hand openly on him.
A calculated move, to bind Adrian before other empires could reach him. Adrian stood silent beneath millions of watching eyes, understanding the trap within the Overseer's "gift."
If he were weaker, they would have buried him in bureaucracy. But now… his overwhelming display left them no choice but to legitimize him.
Still, he could not waste this chance. He turned, searching the stands until his gaze found his companions.
His parents' eyes met his, their nods steady despite the chaos around them. Kael's stare burned with trust, his fists clenched in determination.
Selena smirked knowingly, her golden tattoos glowing faintly. Aurelia's expression was unreadable, but she too gave him the smallest nod.
The others, Septimus, Draven, Cassian, Lucian, all waited in silence. Their faces carried the weight of Earth's future.
The decision was his. For a moment, a name hovered on his tongue. Earth. His home. The soil that birthed him.
To raise the banner of his home world, to carve it into the stars. But in his heart, he felt his path wasn't just for Earth anymore.
The little girl Luna praying to gods who never came. The countless innocents who would never know his name, yet whose lives hung on warriors like him.
He wanted a clan to represent everyone. It was for every nameless world like the one he had saved, for the billions who had no voice, who prayed to gods that never came.
What could represent everyone, and also connect himself to it?
The answer came instinctively, his Source.
It was the root of every path, the foundation of all.
And it was why he even stood here today. His voice rang across the void, calm, carrying to every corner of the infinite arena.
"From this day forth, I establish the Origin Clan."
The arena fell silent. Even the ambient hum of the space-warping barriers seemed to pause.
Then the whispers spread like wildfire. "Origin?"
"No one dares take that name…" a Stellar cultivator breathed, his face pale.
"It signifies too much. He's insane." Another voice cracked with disbelief.
Even the Overseer's expression twitched. For a fleeting instant, surprise glinted in his eyes.
"Origin… a name tied to beginnings, to truths even empires fear to speak aloud."
But he recovered quickly. In the end, a name was a name. What mattered was that Adrian had bound himself here, under Aethelian law.
"Let it be recorded." The Overseer raised a hand. Light seared across the arena as Adrian's Node flared.
Lines of script ignited in the Language of Mana, binding it. Every Drakenholt estate, resource vault, star system, shifted, tethered now to the Origin Clan.
The node pulsed, asking Adrian to define a symbol for his clan. Without hesitation, he pressed his palm against the device.
A new mark appeared. The Overseer projected the emblem into the air, and the crowd saw it for the first time.
At first glance, it was simple, a single white-grey line, radiant like a stroke of starlight. But as it rose, the line split into countless veins, flowing outward in every direction.
The branches spread infinitely like rivers through a cosmos. Some saw it as a river of stars, others as a tree of eternity.
Others glimpsed cracks in reality itself. But all felt the same truth, everything began from one, and from one flowed all.
It was not a river, not a tree. It was Origin.
None could dispute it. The symbol burned itself into every watching mind, searing deeper than mere sight.
Beyond the arena, chaos erupted. Rival clans descended on the Drakenholt stronghold like vultures.
Their warriors slaughtered fleeing elites, burned banners, and hunted survivors through the Hub's corridors. Blood stained the polished walkways.
Ships were burned, sigils desecrated. Yet not a single estate, vault, or star system was touched.
By Imperial law, they were Adrian's now. And no one recklessly dared to challenge a stellar being.
Whispers spread among civilians in Drakenholt-controlled systems. "The Patriarch is dead." "Our ruler is gone."
"A new clan rises… the Origin Clan." Hope in some voices, dread in others.
"A new ruler, an unknown Stellar. Will he save us… or devour us?"
Back in the stands, Adrian turned, walking toward his people. His legs trembled slightly from exhaustion.
His parents embraced him. Thomas gripped his shoulders while Elara smoothed his hair with shaking hands.
"You did it," Thomas whispered. "You actually did it."
Draven clapped him so hard he almost fell over, roaring with laughter. "Origin Clan! Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
Septimus, for once, had no words. Only trembling hands and wide eyes staring at Adrian's Node.
Aurelia's eyes softened faintly, though her lips remained pressed. She understood what this meant for Earth.
Cassian's gaze turned distant, his pupils shifting like tides. "Threads change. A new weave begins."
"The prophecies spoke of this moment," he murmured. "Though even I could not see its shape."
For thousands of years, they had waited for this day. And now, it was here.
The Overseer's eyes lingered on Adrian as he left the arena. Questions about the unknown essence burned in his mind.
But he crushed them. What mattered was not what this boy wielded, but who he belonged to.
As long as his clan stood within Aethelia's territory, his power belonged to the Empire. That was enough.
When they finally reached the residence, his Node lit up with cascading data. Adrian opened it and nearly staggered.
The scale of what now belonged to them was staggering. Resource vaults containing oceans of mana crystals.
Natural treasures beyond counting. Maps of dozens of star systems, entire populations now bound by law to the Origin Clan.
Lists of armies, vassal families, trade partners. Endless networks spanning multiple sectors.
"This is…" Kael's voice cracked as he scrolled through military reports. "Hundreds of thousands of warriors."
"Twenty-three star systems," Selena breathed, her tattoos glowing brighter as she absorbed the data. "Twenty-three!"
From nothing, they had become one of the wealthiest powers in the hub overnight. The transformation was dizzying.
Everyone looked at Adrian, especially the Celestial Eleven. Aurelia stepped forward, her expression unreadable.
"For thousands of years, we fought to carve a place for Earth," she said quietly. "You achieved it in one day, you stepped into the hub."
Adrian clenched his Node in his hand. The glowing words burned into his vision:
Clan: Origin | Leader: Adrian Blackwood | Members: 0
The Origin Clan was born.