Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods! - Chapter 609

Chapter 609: Chapter165-Silver Radiance

“Brother! You’re finally back!”

Isabella burst out of the building, her eyes red with emotion, and threw herself into Alan’s arms, clinging to him tightly as if she never wanted to let go.

When the illusion zone had first appeared and old Gayle sensed danger, he had immediately sent Francis and the others to investigate. Isabella had pleaded to go too, desperate to help.

But Gayle had firmly refused.

That battlefield was too perilous, he said. One wrong move could mean serious injury—or worse. As much as Isabella hated feeling helpless, she understood. And so, she waited. Alone. Anxiously. Until now.

Seeing her brother return safe and sound, her heart filled with a chaotic mix of emotions—relief, joy, and worry.

Relief because Alan had once again survived against impossible odds. No matter how many challengers came his way, he remained undefeated, unyielding.

But worry gnawed at the edges of her happiness.

He was strong, yes. But he was also human. Not a machine.

And even the strongest steel eventually cracks under constant pressure. How long could he keep pushing himself like this?

Just then, Isabella recalled the words that the mysterious black-dressed girl had whispered to her not long ago:

“If you don’t want to drag Alan down… you must gain power. Power to protect yourself.”

“And not just that. One day, Alan will face danger he cannot overcome alone. When that time comes, he’ll need your strength too.”

Those words echoed in her mind.

After a long, tight embrace, Isabella finally let go. She said nothing more, only gave her brother one last look—full of unspoken determination—and quietly returned to her room.

No one else spoke. This was family. Something only the siblings could truly understand.

Alan watched his sister’s retreating figure with a hint of concern in his eyes. He could tell something was different about her today—but he didn’t press. He would wait until she was ready to talk.

Letting out a small sigh, Alan returned to his own small room.

He didn’t rest.

Instead, he sat down cross-legged and prepared himself—for now was the perfect time.

He had three staves in his possession, each one pulsing with Origin mana.

And with no interruptions, this was his best chance to break through—to finally ascend to tier-silver.

But doing so in the real world was too dangerous. The burst of mana that would occur during the breakthrough could easily attract unwanted attention—treasure hunters, bounty hunters, or opportunistic enemies.

So Alan did what he had done before.

He sank his consciousness into Hell, his inner realm of torment and growth.

Whoosh!

Stepping past roaring hellfire and molten rivers, Alan found a secluded space amidst the flames and sat down. The infernal winds licked at his form, but he paid them no mind.

From his satchel, he pulled out the first staff—the one he had obtained earlier—and dropped to one knee. With a deep breath, he placed one hand on the staff’s body and activated the Hellscape Invocation.

Crack!

Immediately, the magical wood comprising the staff’s body began to fracture. Jagged lines split across its surface, crawling from the base to the tip. Light began to escape from within—bright, wild beams of Origin mana surging to break free.

But something strange happened.

Instead of shooting outward into the open, the beams twisted mid-flight—changing trajectory, spiraling inward toward Alan.

They poured into him.

Alan, at that moment, resembled a black hole, swallowing light, heat, and magic.

“Ugh…!”

He gritted his teeth, veins bulging across his forehead as the intensity of the mana surged through his body. It wasn’t gentle—it was invasive, searing through his skin and drilling through every pore.

For a split second, Alan lost connection with his own body.

He was no longer flesh and bone.

He was pure mana—a formless essence drifting through the hellish plane.

The elements around him, the traces of fire and air, no longer felt external. They were him. He had become one with the flow of mana itself. A spirit of energy, not a man.

As this transcendent sensation deepened, his strength skyrocketed.

The mana Overpressure he passively emitted grew so strong that the hellfire around him began to flicker and die—reduced to its primal elemental components.

Flames, which had once been unquenchable even by top-tier mages like Beatrice, were now disassembled by Alan’s mere presence.

The gap between them had become a canyon.

Hours passed.

Eventually, Alan’s spirit returned to his body. Sweat glistened on his brow—but he wasn’t done yet.

He pulled out the second staff and placed his hand upon it.

Again, he activated the Hellscape Invocation.

Crack!

The second staff shattered like the first. But this time, something was different.

Before, Alan had used his spiritual body to absorb and understand the flow of Origin mana. That had taken hours of careful simulation and resonance.

But this time—the wild energy trying to escape him suddenly stopped.

It had been caught.

Alan focused. Something had subdued the Origin mana within the staff.

To his surprise, it was the sacred sword-staff—the one bonded most deeply to him.

Invisible tendrils of mana had extended from it—chains of essence—that tightly gripped the Origin mana, halting its chaotic surge.

And then, like a skilled fisherman reeling in a catch, the sacred sword-staff began pulling that mana inward, filtering it, refining it.

Alan finally understood.

He remembered what the black-robed woman had once told him:

“Once a staff fully synchronizes with its user… they will share all strength between them.”

The sacred sword-staff was an extension of his power.

Just as Alan could empower the staff with his mana, the staff could now strengthen him in return.

This bond changed everything.

The sacred staff wasn’t just absorbing the Origin mana—it was processing it with brutal efficiency. Compared to Alan’s careful simulations, the staff’s method was pure force.

No negotiation. No temptation.

Domination.

You don’t want to be absorbed? Too bad. I’ll drag you in kicking and screaming.

Within half an hour, Alan had completed the absorption—what had taken hours now took mere minutes.

The quality of the refined mana was astonishing. Denser. Purer. More potent than what he had processed alone.

The staff was no longer just a weapon.

It was a mana converter—a high-efficiency forge that refined power and returned it to its master tenfold.

“Haah…”

Alan finally opened his eyes.

BOOM.

A massive wave of mana burst outward from his body, scattering across the hellish landscape like a shockwave. The nearby hellfire hissed and died in response. The space dimmed.

And in that moment—amidst the darkness—

A faint light appeared.

A silver radiance.

It shimmered softly at first—like the first glint of dawn before the sun rose.

But it was undeniable.

Alan had crossed the threshold.

The tier-bronze magus who had defied assassins and noble academies had now stepped into the domain of tier-silver.

And Hell itself had gone quiet in recognition.