Single Wish: Rise Of The Omniscient Paragon
Author: Anon22
Chapter 879 - 876: After Dawnbreaker
The winds were gone.
And so were the clouds.
The sky above the Dying City had become still. So still to the point that it looked like a painting. There was no movement, no shift, no breath.
Almost like the world had stopped breathing.
A strange kind of silence had descended. It was not heavy or stifling.
No.
It was... calm.
No scream of ghosts echoed. No corrupted monsters shrieked in the distance. Even the strange gurgling moans one would hear randomly from buildings and alleys had ceased.
The entire city which had always been consumed by a cacophony of tormented wails and murmurs of madness, had fallen into something that was almost... peaceful.
Corey floated above it all, and his eyes slowly moved over the landscape beneath him.
Fires of golden-white still flickered quietly in pockets across the shattered and scorched ruins, like lanterns left behind by a passing sun god.
Some streets were scorched. Others had been cleansed so completely that the walls, floors, and even the air itself carried the scent of something that was akin to divinity.
Statues that had once moved now lay still, unmoving and truly dead. Shadow stains that had clung to surfaces like mold had been erased without a trace.
And amidst it all, a light mist curled through the streets.
The mist was not white. It was not grey. It was not black. Instead, it was white and gold.
It was like a gentle fog that drifted from the aftermath of
, and it moved softly like it didn’t belong in a place like this.
Corey remained motionless in the sky, and his breathing was slow and utterly calm.
His left hand was in his pocket, and his gaze swept over the destruction he had wrought without a single trace of regret.
He looked at his right hand, and he could see sweat on his palms. His skin was marred with burns that were healing and burning and healing again.
The radiance in his Eyes of Omniscience dimmed as he regulated the circulation of his mana.
His lips parted, and for the first time in the last few minutes... he exhaled.
It was a deep breath. One that came from his soul due to the amount of work he had put his mind through in just less than an hour.
Then he smiled lightly.
Not because he was proud.
Not because had won.
But because he had survived the Third Night without it taking anything from him.
was still working, and his mana was still stabilizing.
But the cost...
He blinked.
His mana pool had dropped by nearly sixty percent.
That wasn’t something he could ignore.
Even with his ridiculous mana capacity and regeneration, sixty percent loss in one spell meant that
was a weapon he could only use once. Twice at best.
He frowned, and in the depths of his pupils, his thoughts went back to the spell.
His mind went back to the spell he had crafted. The sheer scale of it. The transformation from a magic formation to wings of fire, to thousands of rays of light, to chains, to the movement of the wings... and the end.
One would have thought that he was appreciating how powerful the spell had been since it was his creation. But that was very wrong.
Instead, he began to disassemble it in his mind space.
He replayed every moment, every rune, every interaction the spell had with the world. Every transformation.
He narrowed his eyes.
He tapped his finger on his leg with a calculating light in his eyes.
He paused, and then he exhaled slowly.
He closed his eyes and reviewed the formation once again from his memory. He observed the light. The movement. The weight. Every single thing.
He furrowed his brows.
He removed his hand from his pocket and looked at it. They were no longer sweaty, and he could feel his body returning to its peak.
A tiny smile touched the corner of his lips as he finished his thoughts.
It wasn’t a smile of pride.
But of relief that he was able to improve and refine his creation in his mind.
He exhaled softly, and then he sent the spell structures from his main consciousness to his Stars of Consciousness.
The complex lines of runes, formulas, and sequences faded from his thoughts like dissipating mist.
Some moments later...
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
Not one.
But several.
Dozens.
One after another, system notifications began to pour into his consciousness like a waterfall of golden light.
And so were the clouds.
The sky above the Dying City had become still. So still to the point that it looked like a painting. There was no movement, no shift, no breath.
Almost like the world had stopped breathing.
A strange kind of silence had descended. It was not heavy or stifling.
No.
It was... calm.
No scream of ghosts echoed. No corrupted monsters shrieked in the distance. Even the strange gurgling moans one would hear randomly from buildings and alleys had ceased.
The entire city which had always been consumed by a cacophony of tormented wails and murmurs of madness, had fallen into something that was almost... peaceful.
Corey floated above it all, and his eyes slowly moved over the landscape beneath him.
Fires of golden-white still flickered quietly in pockets across the shattered and scorched ruins, like lanterns left behind by a passing sun god.
Some streets were scorched. Others had been cleansed so completely that the walls, floors, and even the air itself carried the scent of something that was akin to divinity.
Statues that had once moved now lay still, unmoving and truly dead. Shadow stains that had clung to surfaces like mold had been erased without a trace.
And amidst it all, a light mist curled through the streets.
The mist was not white. It was not grey. It was not black. Instead, it was white and gold.
It was like a gentle fog that drifted from the aftermath of
, and it moved softly like it didn’t belong in a place like this.
Corey remained motionless in the sky, and his breathing was slow and utterly calm.
His left hand was in his pocket, and his gaze swept over the destruction he had wrought without a single trace of regret.
He looked at his right hand, and he could see sweat on his palms. His skin was marred with burns that were healing and burning and healing again.
The radiance in his Eyes of Omniscience dimmed as he regulated the circulation of his mana.
His lips parted, and for the first time in the last few minutes... he exhaled.
It was a deep breath. One that came from his soul due to the amount of work he had put his mind through in just less than an hour.
Then he smiled lightly.
Not because he was proud.
Not because had won.
But because he had survived the Third Night without it taking anything from him.
was still working, and his mana was still stabilizing.
But the cost...
He blinked.
His mana pool had dropped by nearly sixty percent.
That wasn’t something he could ignore.
Even with his ridiculous mana capacity and regeneration, sixty percent loss in one spell meant that
was a weapon he could only use once. Twice at best.
He frowned, and in the depths of his pupils, his thoughts went back to the spell.
His mind went back to the spell he had crafted. The sheer scale of it. The transformation from a magic formation to wings of fire, to thousands of rays of light, to chains, to the movement of the wings... and the end.
One would have thought that he was appreciating how powerful the spell had been since it was his creation. But that was very wrong.
Instead, he began to disassemble it in his mind space.
He replayed every moment, every rune, every interaction the spell had with the world. Every transformation.
He narrowed his eyes.
He tapped his finger on his leg with a calculating light in his eyes.
He paused, and then he exhaled slowly.
He closed his eyes and reviewed the formation once again from his memory. He observed the light. The movement. The weight. Every single thing.
He furrowed his brows.
He removed his hand from his pocket and looked at it. They were no longer sweaty, and he could feel his body returning to its peak.
A tiny smile touched the corner of his lips as he finished his thoughts.
It wasn’t a smile of pride.
But of relief that he was able to improve and refine his creation in his mind.
He exhaled softly, and then he sent the spell structures from his main consciousness to his Stars of Consciousness.
The complex lines of runes, formulas, and sequences faded from his thoughts like dissipating mist.
Some moments later...
A soft chime echoed in his mind.
Not one.
But several.
Dozens.
One after another, system notifications began to pour into his consciousness like a waterfall of golden light.