The moment those Primordial beings fell, their bodies turned to mana, getting sucked into the world once again, but something remained even after their death.
Their cores.
The Primordial core, which no one was able to awaken even after so long. That core never disappeared from this world.
Along with that discovery, something else was found there.
They could change their cores, not with something else, never, but with the Primordial core, they could.
It was the first core to ever form. There was no such mana that it couldn’t hold inside it.
The same went for the one who took the core. Their bodies did not reject the Primordial core at all.
In fact, it was more compatible than his original Transcended core.
Not only did the core fit well within him, but it also increased his powers manyfold.
When this information was realised, the war became even more intense.
The war, which was first fought for racial indifference and power, soon turned into a bloody battle for the Primordial core.
Except for a rare few, every other Primordial being fell in that battle.
It only came to an end when the world cracked, separating each race into different spaces, which are now called hosting planets.
They could still travel to different worlds, but that major war did not break out again. There are still ongoing wars, but nothing like that one, at least not on that scale.
These were the history and ranks of the cores. They were the ones that were introduced in this world by him as the author.
Yet, the more he looked at his core, the more confused he became. This core did not have any depiction of the ones he had introduced.
He remembers writing the details and the structure of the core very clearly, but none of the cores matched this.
’What the hell is that?’
He asked, even cursing a bit.
He can tell he has entered the Core Formation Realm and can feel his mana flowing inside it, but he couldn’t tell what kind of core that is at all.
He sent his consciousness towards his core, trying to get a better picture of the situation there.
The core looked small, smaller than the size of normal cores, but something was different about it.
Its attracting force was immense.
’Is that for real?’
The core was moving, rotating in its fixed space. As he approached it closer, he felt as if he was getting sucked into the core.
"This dark mana... is this mine?"
The colour of mana changes based on the affinity of the bearer.
That made his mana go black, not like the demonic mana, it was even darker than demonic mana. So black that he wasn’t able to see anything beyond.
It was at this moment that he asked himself a stupid yet not-so-stupid question.
’Do I even know everything about this world?’
It sounded stupid as he was the author. This was his world, so he should know everything about it right?
But it did not sound stupid when he saw the thing before him, raising a question,
Does an author know everything about his world?
Or does he know only the things he wishes to write?
He made the world, he wrote the characters, he made the laws, concept of cultivation, skills and spells, he made the realms, good good, and he was the one who wrote the ending too.
But...
Does that mean he knows everything about this world?
Words are a beautiful way to express the vast imagination of someone’s mind.
His way of expression was his novel, but was that single novel enough to express his world?
It never was.
He knows the plot, but not everything about this world.
Realising this point, he began to laugh hysterically.
"Hehhehehehhe~ ah, shit. Such a plot here. This makes me question, am I even the one who made this world?"
A god?
He did not feel like he was one anymore.
"So, what other mysteries are there in this world?"
He asked, as if someone else was listening to him.
If no one else, then the one who brought him here must be listening to him, right?
But he also expected not to receive any answers back.
"You know, I used to ask myself a question before. Are we, authors, really the ones making our own story, or do we just write based on what our characters would act in a world like that? Sometimes I used to think that I was not an author, but just an observer, witnessing how different characters would react or act when faced with a situation. So does that really make me an author, or just an observer?"
An author or an observer?
The one who made a world or the one who was merely witnessing a world?
Which one was the truth?
At this moment, he was inclined more towards the second option. He only observed the things he wanted to and wrote them as a translator.
"Never did I ever think I would ask myself such a question."
He chuckled a little, finding this funny rather than scary.
"Well, I will rather ask this of the one who took me here than dwell on the concept, which will only make me go insane."
No matter what, he knows the plot, that is what matters right now.
As for the core, it for sure wasn’t a weak one and neither was it from his novel.
Meaning it was better than the Primordial core if not on the same level as it.
He opened his eyes, and a strange purple glint flickered in his eyes.
He was cooking something mischievous inside his head.
’If that god is trying to play with me, then I will accompany him till the end and make sure, I will have the last laugh.’
No matter what, he won’t go down with a loss.
The worst that can happen to him is death. If not that, then he isn’t afraid of anything.
With that, he decided to suck all the remaining mana and get to another stage if possible.