Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse novel Chapter 3733

"My son."

Noah began, his voice serene, though his blood burned like wildfire beneath his skin.

The True Severed Origin Osmontian.

In this moment, he wasn't merely Truly Severed. He was more. So much more.

Bloodlines were peculiar things- basic in that they were universal, and yet sacred in how they carried weight beyond comprehension. Everyone had one. Everyone came from somewhere. But not everyone understood what it meant to carry the memories, the grandeur, the weight of generations within their veins.

And the way they were passed down… was just as unique.

Noah's bloodline stemmed from his mother and father. Humans, by all accounts. Their ancestors walked the same blue planet generations before. His grandfather and grandmother- he could glimpse pieces of them, scattered through the memories of his mother and himself. To them, the lineage meant little.

But to him?

To him, it meant everything.

HUUM!

Existence itself trembled.

His genome, the intricate genetic code that pulsed through his body and was passed on through him, had long since transcended the natural order. It had crossed thresholds of complexity again and again, until it became something entirely unfathomable.

From those crossings, a title was born: True Severed Origin Osmontian.

And now, now it evolved again- its Complexity and Purity surpassing even what a Nascent Source-Bearer Complexity Entity could dream of. It unshackled its former self and became something even more… Quintessential.

Noah turned his gaze to his son- those eyes full of reverence, of longing. Of the need to prove himself.

He saw the ache in them. The ache to be seen. To be worthy.

To bear the name Osmont with pride. To make him proud.

But at the end of the day…

He just wanted his son to be happy.

So he spoke, softly, with fire in his heart.

"My son… blood is not something just handed down. Blood is what you make of it. Our bloodline is one that exceeds. One that overcomes. But most of all, it is what we shape it into."

…!

His words carried weight.

And with them, his blood responded.

For a moment, every vein, every artery- every channel of existence that carried his blood shimmered. His Heart of Infinity blazed with wild hues, a burning, radiant engine that defied understanding.

His blood burned with colors unspoken, its complexity and purity rising- rising until the very pressure of it could suppress Harmonized Sourcebound Icons.

It pulsed through him, and he met his son's gaze again- really met it.

Those eyes, still seeking affirmation. Still hoping.

"A bloodline is what you make of it," he repeated, voice resolute. "The True Severed Origin Osmontian bloodline is what I made of mine. One day, you'll decide what you'll make of yours. Even inherited destiny is shaped by effort and yours to freely take and enjoy.."

…!

He wasn't the kind of father to withhold fortune, to teach through absence or deprivation.