Champion Of Lust: Gods Conquer's Harem Paradise!

Chapter 355 Looming In The Dark

Pyris exhaled slowly, feeling the immense power swirling around him. The vast ocean of mana beneath him was no longer just an abstract source of energy—it was a part of him, responding to his presence, waiting for his command.

He took another step forward.

But this time—

He stomped.

BOOOOM!

The impact sent a massive shockwave rippling across the still ocean, as if someone had dropped a meteor into its depths. Mana surged, spiraling upward, twisting into chaotic currents of color—gold lightning crackled in jagged arcs, dark crimson energy spiraled like mist, streaks of violet void energy lashed out, distorting the air itself. Your next journey awaits at My Virtual Library Empire

The tranquil sea of mana beneath him had turned into a raging storm.

But Pyris wasn't overwhelmed.

Instead, he reached out.

He extended his hand, fingers slightly curled—and the mana obeyed.

The spiraling chaos halted, suddenly suspended in midair, as if time itself had paused. He could see it, feel it—raw, untamed power, but it wasn't wild. It was his. He clenched his fingers, and the mana compressed, pulling in tighter, condensing around him in shifting waves.

For the first time, Pyris didn't feel like he was just using mana. He was commanding it instead, really... A slow smirk formed on his lips. "Now we're talking."

Pyris stood at the heart of his mana ocean—at least what felt like was, since he could see the beginning of the end, his spiritual body weightless yet firmly grounded on its ever-shifting surface. A vast, endless expanse of energy surrounded him—his energy. And for the first time, he wasn't just sensing it.

He was inside it.

His fingers twitched, instinct guiding his movement. He focused—not with brute force, but with intent.

React.

The mana stirred in response, rippling beneath him like the ocean responding to a whisper of wind. Pyris exhaled, raising his hand. A small whirlpool of pure mana swirled upwards, spiraling around his palm.

"Interesting…"

He clenched his fingers, compressing the swirling mana. The dense energy twisted, reshaping into a solid sphere, then stretching into a sharp, jagged edge—a blade formed purely from raw mana.

Pyris turned it over in his palm.

It was unstable.

The moment he loosened his grip, the energy dissipated back into the surrounding sea of mana, like waves reclaiming the shore.

He grinned.

"Let's try that again."

He stomped forward. The mana beneath his feet splashed upward like a geyser, surging around him before settling back into place. With a flick of his wrist, he willed it to rise again—this time, spiraling into long, winding tendrils of energy.

It was like shaping water, yet completely different.

Water followed natural flow.

Mana resisted, like an unseen force pushing back.

The more he tried to force it, the more unstable it became.

So instead of pushing, he guided.

With a slow breath, he extended his hands, channeling his intent through the ocean itself. The mana shifted, forming a glowing pathway beneath his feet, solidifying just enough to hold him as he walked.

A bridge of pure energy.

_____

Pyris stood at the center of his mana ocean, eyes narrowing as he took in the sheer vastness of it. He knew mana. He had wielded it countless times in battle, shaping it with instinct, bending it with willpower.

But this?

This was different.

He wasn't just using mana—he was inside it.

In his physical body, channeling mana required effort, some effort. Even with perfect control, there was always resistance, a need to shape and direct the flow. Here, in his spiritual body, however, it was seamless. The mana around him didn't just respond—it obeyed.

He flexed his fingers, watching as the ocean rippled in sync with his movement.

"This… this is on another level." With just a thought, a thin arc of golden lightning flickered into existence around him. No chant. No time lag. No need to reach for his element—it was instant.

His control felt sharper, cleaner.

In his physical form, he always had to summon his elements, channel them into existence. But here?

Here, they were woven into his being.

It was pure mastery.

But why? Why was there such a gap between his spiritual and physical control?

Was it because his soul was unrestricted here? Was his body… a limitation?

Pyris frowned.

If this level of control existed within him, then why wasn't he using it to its full potential in the real world?

He needed to test it.

Taking a slow breath, he raised his hand. The mana responded immediately, spiraling upward in a controlled vortex.

Now, time to push further.

With a single step forward, the mana beneath him rose like a crashing wave. He willed it to solidify—forming a floating platform.

Then, he moved.

Faster.

More precise.

Each step left behind a ripple of energy, each motion creating an aftershock of power. His spiritual body was limitless, unshackled by the weight of flesh and bone.

Now the real question was—

Could he bring this level of control back to his physical form?

______

The city of Valtheris, the grand capital of the Human Empire, awoke under the soft glow of the twin suns. The towering spires of noble estates cast long shadows over the cobbled streets, where merchants were already arranging their shops, servants scurried about with errands, and the scent of fresh bread mingled with the crisp morning air.

But it was not just another ordinary day.

Today, Obsidian Tech was launching its most anticipated creation yet. A revolutionary game, rumored to hold secrets beyond mere entertainment, something that could reshape the way people viewed reality itself. And with the Dragon Emperor's looming threat over House Obsidian, tensions were higher than ever.

Inside Ivory Crest, the most prestigious tea house in the noble district, the air buzzed with hushed conversations. Nobles draped in elegant silks and enchanted jewelry sat around circular tables, sipping on imported spirit tea while discussing the latest political upheavals.

"The Dragon Emperor has made his stance clear, hasn't he?" Lady Estelle Marquess of Hollowbrook murmured, tapping her lacquered nails against her teacup. "He no longer stands with House Obsidian. But the question is—what is his next move?"

"War, obviously," scoffed Lord Vernon, a lesser noble who prided himself on knowing things he had no business knowing. "Though he hasn't officially declared it, pulling away from the Obsidians is as good as raising his sword against them. And let's not forget, every other faction is watching closely, waiting to sink their teeth in the first moment of weakness."