My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 446 - 1st reincarnation
Previously on My attributes are increasing infinitely...
All the gathered beings fixed their gazes on the unexpected crude remark.
Such vulgar language was alien to them, their elegant senses jarred by the rough edge of common speech.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd like flames, astonishment carving lines across their perfect faces.
"What did you say? How dare you utter such filthy words before the supreme tower, and which clan do you hail from?" the young man demanded once more, his voice quivering with outrage.
"I said punk, get lost," Ethan restated, his voice steady and firm.
He had no patience for dragging this out with him.
Abruptly, the blade gripped by the young man began to shimmer.
Rage boiled within him until it threatened to burst, his cheeks burning with sacred wrath, luminous veins throbbing across his flesh.
"I am Lucious Silvera. I challenge you to a duel, right here, right now," he proclaimed, swinging the weapon in a dramatic arc.
Ethan stayed silent.
He met the young man's gaze and unleashed a faint aura of infinity toward him.
The atmosphere grew heavy, an unseen pressure expanding like an infinite chasm.
The young man collapsed to the earth at once.
In an instant, it seemed he had plunged into an eternal void, his thoughts twisting into infinite shadows, cries resounding in his mind as the world dissolved before him.
He grasped at the turf, panting desperately, his blade dropping harmlessly nearby.
Ethan departed the spot and settled into a lotus position in a secluded area, disregarding the commotion.
He shut his eyes, focusing inward amid the mounting strain.
"Who is he? The heir of the Silvera clan couldn't touch him?" the remaining candidates began to whisper, their tones blending reverence and dread.
Yet none approached Ethan to inquire.
The air crackled with suspense.
Whenever the game's rules shifted, uncertainty gripped them about the coming alterations.
Rumors circulated in low voices, each participant musing over the Tower of Trials' capricious essence, where previous rounds had upended destinies in surprising fashions.
Three days slipped by in a fog of expectancy.
The hopefuls engaged in meditation, gentle practice bouts, or fragile pacts, all the while watching the tower warily.
Ethan kept his distance, soaking in the vibe, his thoughts reviewing the shared wisdom.
He understood that the baptism and validation loomed close, an essential phase to affirm their worthiness.
This day marked the occasion; the tower would examine their authenticity.
"Assemble here," a timeless voice echoed from the tower, thundering loudly while feeling as close as a murmur.
All rose swiftly and convened, arranging into a wide ring encircling the tower's foundation.
Ethan merged with the group too, his determination calm and unobtrusive.
Then, a dazzling radiance erupted from the tower, commencing a sweep over the throng.
It flowed across the gathering like a surge, examining cores, piercing into spirits.
Rays of pristine power brushed every hopeful, bathing their shapes in shades of gold and silver.
As the glow reached him, Ethan caught a message within his mind.
[Anomaly detected. Grade of the anomaly cannot be determined. Trial would be Hell grade difficulty. Reward for every hurdle 5 times than normal.
Status: Eligible]
Ethan's eyes flared wide.
"What? The difficulty is different for everyone?" he whispered to himself, astonishment flashing over his expression.
No response came his way.
The radiance continued onward, allowing him time to absorb the discovery.
"Yumiko, do you know anything?" he queried in his thoughts.
[No, master. I have no idea.]
Ethan drew in a steadying breath and resumed his seat, the turf refreshing against him.
Now, he could only await the reincarnation's onset.
The consequences pressed down; Hell grade promised extreme ordeals, yet the amplified prizes might prove his advantage.
He scanned the surroundings, observing the diverse responses from the rest.
Post-scan, certain faces lit with grins, their stances easing in clear contentment.
Some appeared horrified, complexions ashen, gazes flicking about like hunted prey.
Ethan realized they had received word of their challenge tiers; hence the emotional divide.
Murmurs picked up again, exchanging bits of the voice's revelations, although nobody ventured near him.
The ensuing twenty-seven days crawled by in strained suspension.
Hopefuls readied themselves variously: a few refined sacred arts, others pondered ancient tales, as bonds realigned fluidly.
Ethan devoted the period to serene reflection, devising possible tactics for the looming tests.
He shunned company, his aura a quiet mystery that quelled inquiries.
The meadow hummed with vitality, the tower's inscriptions flaring intenser as the launch approached.
At last, the instant dawned.
[The reincarnation will occur now. Everyone will get their roles in the world according to their difficulty levels. The divine material is a Divine Fruit. If someone finds it, the trial would be finished, and everyone would reincarnate in the next trial.]
With the announcement, Ethan sensed a yank on his spirit, an unstoppable draw on his core being.
Existence smeared, hues whirling into a maelstrom.
Reincarnation claimed him.
[Name: Ethan Hunt
Difficulty: Hell
Background: You will be born in a royal family as the 7th prince. In a world full of powerhouses, you won’t be able to cultivate. Everyone will become your enemy wherever you go, whatever you do. Mortality chance: 99%
Task: Survive, find loyal subordinates. For every loyal subordinate you will gain 10 strands of divine energy. For every catastrophe you survive, you will gain 100 strands of divine energy]
"Whaaa....." Ethan started, disbelief flooding him at the grim arrangement.
Ethan couldn't complete his outburst, his awareness yanked into oblivion, a blackness engulfing him entirely.
Feelings dimmed, duration blurred, while his essence journeyed through planes, reforming into fresh embodiment.
Upon awakening, he detected sounds nearby, indistinct initially, then clarifying sharply.
Warmth filled the space, laced with fragrant smoke and a subtle iron scent of blood.
He sensed fragility, helplessness, his frame that of an infant, wrapped in gentle cloths.
"The 7th prince is born. Your majesty, please name our son," a woman's voice declared, fatigued but optimistic, resounding in the majestic hall.
Steps drew closer to him.
A figure emerged at his side, his aura immense.
A thread of power slipped into his form, inspecting him.
It flowed through his diminutive body, hunting for aptitude, yet discovered zilch.
"He is a waste with no talent for becoming a Spirit master. He can’t bear my last name. His name should be Ethan. From today onward, as the mother of this waste, you are being demoted to a concubine," the man stated, his tone icy and absolute, lacking any fatherly affection.
The woman's sharp intake of breath echoed through the chamber, a cry of devastation.
Ethan, his baby vision hazy, glimpsed her visage momentarily: lovely, marked by weariness, now shattering in sorrow.
Gossips erupted among the servants right away, blending sympathy and disdain.
Ethan's thoughts whirled, despite this delicate condition.
Hell difficulty for certain; spawned in nobility but labeled useless, barred from cultivation in a realm ruled by strength.
Foes at every turn, a 99% risk of demise.
Survival demanded; loyal followers to recruit, disasters to endure for benefits.
The Divine Fruit held the secret to concluding this level, but given his limitations, pursuing it appeared utterly daunting.