Chapter 150: Journey To The Past.

Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Journey To The Past.What they saw was an ancient civilization, vast and bustling. Houses were built with intricate designs of clay and mud, people dressed in minimalist indigenous clothing. Yet, these aren’t primitive people. Humans soared through the sky without wings or machines, floating effortlessly, or levitating heavy objects—fifty tons of marble, for instance—with a casual flick of a hand.

Pyramid structures dotted the landscape, majestic and numerous. Many people meditated inside these pyramids, their minds radiating calm, focused energy. They didn’t speak with crude vocal cords; they conversed telepathically, their thoughts echoing clearly in the minds of the Marcoses as if they were their own.

Then, their perspective shifted, drawn to the largest pyramid structure. It was made of gleaming, polished white marble, marveled like an ethereal castle, with huge, towering pillars stretching towards a sun that seemed warmer, brighter.

On its grand entrance, the Royal Seal of the Tallano family was etched, radiating authority. This was the Maharlika Kingdom, the golden age of ancient Philippines. Kings and royals. People didn’t ride on the sea with ships; their vessels were sleek, ethereal crafts that floated silently in the sky. Crystals, pulsating with raw energy, were the main source of power.

Richard, observing this, felt a surge of understanding; this was how they powered their cities, their craft, their everyday lives. He noted the intricate symbols carved into the crystals—some manifested fire and light, others allowed for effortless levitation, and still others created shimmering air bubbles that allowed users to traverse deep under the ocean.

Their consciousnesses then projected miles and miles, and found themselves gazing upon a vast, breathtaking city floating gracefully on the surface of the ocean, shimmering with impossible light.

This was Atlantis. Here, crystals were not just power sources but integrated into the very fabric of their technology. This wasn’t steampunk; it was "crystal punk"—machines ran on crystal power, from their colossal ships to their intricate mechanisms. At the center of Atlantis was a massive pyramid, its apex piercing the ocean surface, its base stretching into the deepest abyss. It was the most technologically advanced city, a marvel of bio-integrated engineering and psionic resonance.

Next, their vision shifted again, less technologically advanced but perhaps the most majestic. All people had lighter, pale skin, white hair, and striking silver eyes, much like Richard himself now. They weren’t technologically advanced in the conventional sense; their advancement lay in their mastery of psionic and psychic power.

A massive crystal obelisk dominated the central plaza, emanating a wave of pure psionic energy that rippled through the vision, impacting Bongbong, Imee, and Imelda directly. They felt it, a gentle, yet profound, pressure in their minds, a tingling sensation of awakened senses. Everyone here was flying, floating, communicating telepathically. For the Marcoses, it was like viewing history in real-time, except everything was immersive; they could feel the sounds, the air, the very emotions as if they were truly there. This was the ancient kingdom of Lemuria.



Their consciousnesses then pulled them towards a colossal crystal palace in the distance. It was so large that even from afar, they could make out its intricate details. Sitting on the throne was a being bathed in such pure, blinding light that its face remained indistinct, a humanoid shape of luminous energy.

Finally, their vision pulled them towards the largest tower, one that seemed to pierce through space itself. For Richard, it looked like a space elevator. This was the iconic Tower of Babel, a city built from the amalgamated architectural styles of various kingdoms—Atlantis, Maharlika, Lemuria, Sumer and other kingdoms from the ancient earth. It was as if all ancient human’s ethnic and hybrids were piled into this single, colossal city.

It was a hub of commerce and knowledge exchange, not only a space elevator that entertained guests from outer space but a bustling trade center. Here, knowledge crystals were crafted, meticulously storing vast amounts of information. Various alien civilizations came and go, exchanging goods and knowledge. Ancient Earth, or Terralia as the Krill called it, was a vibrant trade station, a hub of galactic commerce.

Richard saw, surprisingly, Krill among the diverse alien visitors. The reptilian beings, dressed in noble attire, moved with a certain alien dignity. Then, what caught his full attention, a colossal golden dragon descended from the sky. It landed gracefully outside the city walls, too large to enter the bustling streets, yet its presence was undeniably peaceful.

Richard immediately recognized it; this must be the Krill Emperor, Krill Mainu, Subject Alpha-0 had spoken about. He was terrifyingly large, yes, but in this vision, he seemed merely curious, observing the vibrant exchange. Richard looked at the dragon’s face, seeing no malice, only an almost childlike fascination. This was before the ancient Earth went to hell because of them. Before that Emperor, this golden dragon, killed a human child and learned of Anu-blood. The terror of his true nature was yet to unfold.

The vision flickered, then vanished.

The Marcoses gasped, their eyes snapping open, their hands still clasped around Richard’s. They were back in the mansion, the world around them seeming duller, quieter, after the vibrant reality they had just experienced. Their faces were pale, etched with a combination of profound shock, awe, but not yet full understanding or belief. Imelda, in particular, looked as if she had just seen a ghost, her gaze fixed on the white crystal in Richard’s hand.

"This is... impossible," Bongbong whispered, his voice hoarse, shaking his head slowly. He ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away the impossible images. "Ancient civilizations... floating cities... telepathy... other races! They were here. On Earth. And we were... masters of it all." He looked at Imee, whose eyes were wide, still welling with unshed tears.

Imee, recovering, choked out, "The beauty... the sheer, incredible beauty of Maharlika. And Atlantis. And Lemuria. It was all real. And we... we forgot. How could we forget such a golden age?" A tear finally tracked a path down her cheek. "The other races... they were guests. They were here as traders. What happened to our golden age? What caused this downfall?"

Imelda, however, was already beyond the initial shock. Her gaze, though still awestruck, was now filled with a flicker of intense skepticism. "The vision... it was profound, Mr. Santamo," she said, her voice measured. "But a vision is still a vision. The True Knowledge Crystals, as you call them, are part of our legends, yes, but proof... tangible proof, of your direct lineage, of your true claim... that remains elusive." She narrowed her eyes. "Our family, the Marcoses, were entrusted by the ancient Tallano Royal Family with their treasury. It is located deep beneath this mansion. For generations, we have been its guardians, the trusted descendants of the treasurers."

She turned, her gaze sweeping over Bongbong, then back to Richard. "The only way for it to open requires the blood of two male descendants. One from the Tallano lineage, and one from the Marcos lineage. Perhaps... this will provide the proof we need, beyond any vision."

Bongbong, still somewhat dazed, looked at his mother, then at Richard. "Mother, are you sure?"

"It is the only way," Imelda stated firmly. "Tradition dictates it."

She led them through a discreet, hidden passage behind a bookshelf that slid open with a soft click. They descended a long, spiraling stone staircase, the air growing cooler, carrying the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. Finally, they reached a massive, unadorned stone door. Carved into its surface were two deep, cup-like depressions, one adorned with the intricate design of a majestic eagle, the other with a proud, roaring lion.

"Bongbong, stand at the lion," Imelda instructed. "Mr. Santamo, the eagle."

They stood side by side, facing the stone door. "Each of you," Imelda continued, "must offer a drop of blood into the cup corresponding to your lineage."

Bongbong, with a grim set to his jaw, took a small, ceremonial dagger from a nearby alcove. He slit his finger, a single bead of crimson blood welling up before dripping into the lion-carved cup. It immediately glowed faintly.

Richard, watching him, then took the dagger. Without hesitation, he slit his own finger. A drop of blood emerged. But it wasn’t red. It was a shimmering, impossible silver, pulsing with a faint inner light. It dripped into the eagle-carved cup.



Bongbong gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at Richard’s finger, then at the silver pooling in the cup. Imelda froze, her hand flying to her mouth, her eyes fixed on the silver blood. Richard, surprised himself by the sight, remained silent, his own focus on the ritual.

As the silver blood mixed with Bongbong’s crimson, a low hum filled the chamber. Cracks of pure energy, glowing with an ethereal purple and silver light, began to spread across the stone door, tracing intricate patterns. The hum intensified, a low thrumming that resonated in their bones. Then, with a crackle of raw power, the stone door didn’t simply open—it dissolved, revealing a shimmering, unstable energy portal beyond.

They stepped through, their senses assaulted by the sheer, contained energy of the space. It wasn’t just a vault of gold, as Bongbong might have expected from a treasury. It was a repository of forgotten knowledge, of ancient power.

The chamber was bathed in a soft, ambient light that emanated from the very walls, revealing stacks of exquisitely carved jade tablets, each inscribed with flowing Baybayin script. Nearby, dozens of handheld crystals, smooth and polished, shimmered with various colors, symbols etched onto their surfaces glowing with inner power. Crystal weapons—spears, swords, and even intricate, almost ethereal bows—rested on glowing pedestals, their edges impossibly sharp. Gems of unheard-of brilliance glittered from open chests.

But then, Richard’s eyes widened. At the far end of the chamber, almost hidden behind a cascade of glowing gems, stood another stasis crystal. It was identical to the ones he’d found in the Amazonian base. Inside, a human figure floated, perfectly preserved. He looked like a normal man, except he was dressed in pristine white silk, exactly like the Maharlikan royals they had seen in the vision. He must be a noble. But unlike the others, this one was clearly injured; a faint, dark fissure, like a wound, marred the crystal near his chest.

And beside his stasis crystal, neatly arranged on a small, glowing plinth, were seven more Knowledge Crystals. Each one pulsed with the same rainbow-shifting internal light as the one Grandma Maria had given him, and the one he had found in the Marcos mansion.

Richard’s mind whirred, a silent, powerful calculation. He now had ten Knowledge Crystals in total: one from Grandma Maria, one from the beings in his mindscape, one he just absorbed and now these eight. This is it, he thought, a surge of exhilaration washing over him. I can use this. This is how I expand my System’s tech capacity and maybe complete his mindscape. This is how I truly unlock its potential. The revelation of the silver blood was secondary now; the real treasure was here.

Imelda and Bongbong stood in stunned silence, their initial skepticism shattered by the silver blood and now this chamber. Their eyes, wide with disbelief and wonder, swept over the vast expanse of the vault. It wasn’t merely a room; it was a sprawling cavern, extending further than the eye could see into the deep earth, shimmering with a dazzling, impossible wealth.

Mountains of gold coins, intricately hammered with ancient symbols, glittered in the soft light. Piles of uncut, raw crystals, far larger and more vibrant than any they had ever seen, pulsed with soft internal light, creating an ethereal glow that made the very air seem alive. The sheer accumulation of wealth and power was staggering, to the point that they literally had to step carefully, weaving between mounds of treasure, struggling to walk through the dense concentration of riches.

"This... this is beyond all reckoning," Bongbong whispered, his voice hoarse with awe, his eyes gleaming like a child in a dream. He picked up a solid gold coin, its weight heavy in his palm, and rubbed a thumb over its ancient face. "The legends spoke of untold wealth, but this... this is an entire world’s fortune."