“It’s about to start.”
“Ironic, isn’t it? For our kin to have the Cursed Heavens at his beck and call,” Qul’Uster said with a smile. “No mishaps on your end?”
“It’s all taken care of, and the signal remains stable,” Nutzu said, her face scrunching with annoyance beneath her mask. “I wouldn’t have saved that little shit if I’d known it would make me his helper.”
“Yes, you would,” Qul’Uster said. “If nothing else, the pay is quite generous, no? I hear you’ve been awarded access to the Sixth Outer Band.”
“So what? Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it,” Nutzu huffed. “You should’ve just taken over negotiations with that slippery bastard.”
“You have to see things from his perspective.”
“What? As a test tube baby? Most of us are. Or as an integrated cultivator?”
“No. I mean his loneliness. Look,” Qul’Uster said before activating the hologram.
Nutzu had to admit, her commander wasn’t just here because of his pedigree. To think he’d managed to improve their ship’s scanners to such an extent. They were over a week’s travel away in a spatially unstable region. And yet, he’d somehow managed to extract the relevant energy fluctuations through subspace and interpret it into an actual display.
“Yes. He’s all alone. Abandoned even by Leandra Kayar-Elu, facing threats and schemes from every direction. If we push too hard, we’ll just become another party, and our dealings will be nothing but transactions. He might even cut and run. How are we supposed to find him again?”
“You’re still on that? Shouldn’t we contact base?”
“We can’t provide any tangible reinforcement in time for it to matter. We’ll do our part as agreed upon and trust he’ll deal with things on his end. If he’s truly the Void Emperor’s inheritor, he shouldn’t be stopped by something like this.”
“How did they sneak inside? Even our elders didn’t dare take the risk.”
“The world is full of mysterious arts and powerful people. The Edge has made us strong, but the cosmos is different from the one our ancestors left. You need to be careful later.”
“I know,” Nutzu shrugged. “So, we’ll just do him some favors now and pray he reciprocates? Is this the best your family could come up with? We should just pummel him a bit and drag him back, like how we do with those who try to shirk their Oath.”
“He’s Sindris, but he’s also Kayar-Elu. Any attempt to force fate will most likely fail. See? Even the Sangha is having trouble dealing with him,” Qul’Uster said with helplessness. “For now, we’ll try to show him that not everyone is out to get him.”
“Not counting those traitors,” Nutzu muttered.
“True,” Qul’Uster nodded. “Either case. The elders activated the Eclipse. She said he has a strong connection with the Eternal Storm. Maybe he’ll approach us himself at that time.”
“Sounds flaky,” Nutzu said, looking at her captain. “By the way, can you tell me what those things were now? I couldn’t make heads or tails of them. They only felt dangerous.”
“A special model of Heavenly Disruptors.”
“They were disruptors?” Nutzu said, her body tensing. “After all that talk, you’re actually betraying him?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why are we spending a fortune on hiding the fortress when we’re supposed to mark it for the Cursed Heavens?”
“As I said, they’re a special model. Grand Aunt and Grand Uncle have made some modifications and asked me to field test it.”
“The twins?” Nutzu shuddered. “Are you planning on blowing up the whole graveyard?”
“They haven’t installed any of their proprietary weapon systems,” Qul’Uster explained.
Nutzu exhaled in relief, but she still felt a pang of fear. Not only had she come into contact with something made by those two lunatics, their next mission would take them into the neighboring region.
“They’ve simply replaced the shielding with a newly-designed amplifier.”
“So they’ll try to wrest the Cursed Heaven’s control over the Heavenly Dao without hiding their traces? That’d do it,” Nutzu nodded. “But without the shielding, they’ll be destroyed instantly. It might not be enough to cause a lingering effect.”
“The elders were of the same opinion, so they placed the innards of a Class-4 Outer Beast in each disruptor for good measure.”
“Bastard, you actually had me carry around such a dangerous item?” Nutzu glared, though her mouth started tugging upward as she glanced at the screens displaying the Fort of Resolution.
“Serves you right for making me waste four of my puppets.”
————————
The distant rumbles reached all the way to the chamber in the depths of the hidden base. Or maybe not so distant. It had only been two hours, yet the eruptions from pitched battle had come much closer. The energies funneled into the room would have been soiled by the Dao of Conflict if not for the stabilizing arrays.
Thousands of schemes and countermeasures were born and refined every second. Yzum discarded them all. Now that things had come this far, there was no need to perform feasibility calculations. Their Royal Father had ensured there was only one path forward. Only time would tell whether he had what it took to face his destiny.
The twenty-sixth rune was added, finalizing the circuit. Yzum exhaled as his Soul Aperture was shrouded in a primordial haze. Imperial Fate was swallowed by the building storm, subtly altered by its Grand Tapestry. Thread by thread, Yzum bound his Imperial Soul to the Heavens, anchoring his path to its mighty river.
The rumblings grew louder, mirroring the tearing pain in his head. One by one, the defenses of his base were run over, torn apart by unstoppable force. Yzum’s heart bled as he felt the soul brands on his carefully nurtured subordinates shatter one after another, yet he knew ruthlessness was his only chance at survival.
Eventually, the fighting stopped, and a deafening silence spread through the room. The final door wasn’t locked, and it slid open soon after.
“You’re here,” Yzum sighed.
Yrin’s eyes held their usual disdain for the world as he stepped into Yzum’s inner sanctum. His shoes left sanguine prints on the ground, and his sword was still dripping after slaying the two final guardians. Yrin’s appearance and armor were otherwise spotless, like he’d taken a stroll through a garden instead of breaking into Yzum’s carefully arranged base. Proof of the monstrous power locked within his eldest brother’s frame.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Not that any reminder was needed. Yzum had observed his brother’s brutally direct actions after picking up the mantle. Building on the foundations set by Yselio, Yrin slaughtered everything in his path. The Seventh Heaven was unable to replace the steady loss of manpower, leaving them with just a skeleton operation on the inside. Yzum inwardly railed at the misuse of their limited resources, especially when he knew the truth.
“Fate approaches,” Yrin calmly said. “There can be no loose ends threatening the Empire’s goals.”
“Empire’s Goals, is it?” Yzum gently smiled. “Or did you realize you couldn’t take the next step while remaining incomplete? After all, a strong constitution won’t help you see the whole picture.”
“How long have you known?” Yrin asked, seeming content to wait a while longer.
“My whole life,” Yzum calmly said. “Just like I’ve always known you’d be the one to eventually knock on my door, second brother.”
A familiar smile spread across Yrin’s stony face—a smile that had given Yzum nightmares since he was a child. It was the smile of a devilish heart that wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice anything, even the Dynasty, to achieve their goals.
“As expected of you, Youngest Brother. You overcame our blind spot. Your incisive mind always left me in awe. I’m embarrassed to admit, I didn’t realize the truth until the very end,” Yrin said. “But you shouldn’t call me Second Brother. Yselio is dead.”
“Then why are his words coming out of your mouth?” Yzum said. “I’ve observed you over the past year. You’ve hidden it almost perfectly, but I estimate that Eldest Brother only accounts for four or five percent of your personality. The rest is you putting on a show.”
“Nevertheless,” Yrin, or rather Yselio, said with a smile. “The smallest things can have unexpected effects, and change can come from the most unexpected of places.”
“A body without direction holds blind power. A soul without purpose will become a stagnant pond,” Yzum said, looking at his brother with a profound gaze. “A heart unfettered will be led astray.”
“Do you think the experiment was a failure? That the three returning to their origin is futile because our experiences have tainted us?” Yselio said, his smile growing wider. “Have you ever considered it was our Royal Father’s intention? Many say my heart is wicked, but so what? Righteousness doesn’t translate to power. It’s just another shackle. And won’t I have your soul to expertly calculate the bounds, keeping us on the right side of the Law?
“I know you’re tired, little brother. The weight of your soul has burdened you for so long, leaving you infirm. I also know you’ve made your preparations. It may very well be you who’ll form the final nucleus. You’re curious, aren’t you? About the missing variable that has eluded you, the source of the disturbance—the answers are hidden in my mind.”
Yzum gripped his robes, but he quickly calmed down his racing thoughts. “There’s no point dragging this out. Do it.”
“At the very end, I asked Eldest Brother whether Truth or Empire was most important,” Yselio said as he raised his blade. “What do you think?”
Yzum looked into the dark eyes of his brother, suddenly feeling a great weight off his shoulders.
“Empires crumble. Truth is eternal.”
—————-
“You!”Zac exclaimed in shock. “How can you be here?”
Zac initially suspected his overloaded mind was playing tricks on him, but he was almost certain his first guess was correct. The entity before him was formed from pure Chaos, a churning mass of steely confluence that remained unable to stay static. Nevertheless, it was Tavza who had somehow forced her way into his Atavistic Tribulation through the Dao of Chaos.
There were hints of the Abyss in the chaotic mesh, acting like glue on the mercurial energy. It was the pure aura of the Abyssal Lake that only the Azol branch wielded. How was she doing that? Zac tried the same, but neither his Eoz nor Void Emperor Bloodlines were accessible to him. He was just a spiritual wisp, equipped with nothing but determination and grit.
‘I—’ Tavza’s words were drowned out by a deep groan.
The pathway Zac had forced open had become a faultline between two opposing realms. Deep, chaotic cracks had already appeared, and Zac could feel the deranged hatred from the tainted tapestries.
Neither side was backing down, and the tapestries generated a pull far greater than his small tunnel could endure. The layer between realities shattered like glass. Tapestries were suddenly superimposed, with Zac and Tavza caught in the middle.
The consciousness from thousands of remnants combined, awakening a presence far greater than what Zac previously faced. It didn’t feel like he was looking at a sprawling tapestry erected across the Multiverse. He was looking at the Heart of Oblivion and Spark of Creation in the flesh.
The active erosion of his mind was gone, but an equally oppressive domain replaced it. Unlike the Autarchs from before, the two entities didn’t care whether he lived or died. They unleashed their auras to the fullest, using their nodes to destroy or take over the Heavens.
Each clash unleashed tremendous waves of tainted Oblivion and Creation that dug right at Zac’s mind. The bombardment was constant and unrelenting, and it only seemed to grow with intensity. Zac was already on his last legs, and he could barely withstand the Chaos by relying on his Void State.
Tavza was faring far worse. Her bloodline wasn’t enough to make up for her lack of experience. She’d never dealt with the remnants before and was suddenly forced to face two Atavisms from the get-go. Her incorporeal body was growing increasingly unstable. She wouldn’t last long. In fact, even her short visit might cause irreversible damage.
‘Wh…at—’
Tavza’s voice was incredibly unnerving. The voice was indistinguishable in that it constantly changed cadence, pitch, and direction. Zac even felt the syllables came from different timelines. It should be the result of using pure Chaos as a conduit.
‘I—Hel…p’
Zac gritted his teeth and made his decision. At this point, how she was here didn’t matter. It was clear she’d come to help him through this tribulation, and he wouldn’t waste her noble gesture.
“Cover me! Just for a second or two!”
Tavza’s voice and figure were disjointed, but her actions were swift. Her grey mesh of Chaos darkened, forming a thick wall infused with the Abyss. Shockwaves were almost completely nullified, and Zac made his move. He fiercely tugged at the hundreds of invisible threads that connected him to the tapestries.
A third of the strings were dislodged, and he reeled them in like a fisherman pulling in his catch. A surge of power filled his weakened spiritual body. He pulled again, this time with far greater strength. Again and again, Zac repeated his actions as quickly as he humanly could. The remaining tendrils were lodged much harder, but Zac was also growing stronger with each successful catch.
Tavza acted like a Dao Guardian all this while. Zac could sense she was being tortured by the hostile Daos. Thankfully, his goal was achieved even faster than he’d expected. The entities were no different from the individual remnants. They had only lashed out in his general direction when small snippets of their tapestry were removed, their minds fully occupied by their nemesis.
“Thank you. I will repay this favor,”Zac said with utmost sincerity before pushing with all his might. Tavza’s consciousness was ejected from his vision. Hopefully, her short visit wouldn’t cause any permanent damage.
Once more, Zac was left to fend off the encroaching desire of Creation and the eroding nihilism of Oblivion on his own. However, thanks to Tavza’s intervention, his situation was completely different. A few tugs retrieved the final threads, making him whole.
A failed Atavism meant that the remnants extracted everything you had and turned you into another node on the tapestry. You survived by seizing the power of the remnants and extinguishing their will. He’d already relinquished almost 90% of his mind to create the tunnel, putting his back right against the wall.
Zac could probably have survived until now without Tavza’s aid, but it would have been a pyrrhic victory. Getting back two-thirds of what he sacrificed before severing his connection would have been a good outcome. It meant losing millennia of longevity, along with a significant chunk of his memories, emotions, and desires.
Retrieving everything would have been almost impossible. Even if he had the strength, it would have taken too much time. The intensity of the battle between Creation and Oblivion was reaching a point of no return, where an errant shockwave could snuff out Zac’s soul in one go.
He’d already gotten everything he wanted. The last link between him and the ancient madness was severed. He couldn’t feel his body in his current state, but he instinctively knew the remnants had become part of him now. He was already feeling his mind being extracted from the vision since there was nothing holding him back.
Zac resisted, his gaze trained at the lofty tapestries. His very being shuddered with hunger, though he remained careful not to let his emotions leave a gap. The Grand Daos of the Heart of Oblivion and Spark of Creation were awfully close to perfection. They might be sullied by their undying obsession, but didn’t he have ample experience extracting benefits from tainted sources?
So why stop now? The remnants had seen him as prey, whittling away at him for decades. Why should he settle for breaking even after Tavza had paid such a heavy price to let him reach for something more? Why not treat it like a Dao Impartment like the one he received from Yrial at the beginning of his journey?
The environment was still incredibly dangerous. Zac furiously resisted the chaotic eruptions as he scanned the tapestries for what he sought. His soul was already exhausted, and he could feel his Soul Cores being drained beyond their safe limits to scan the seemingly unending paths for insights matching his path. Just as when he feared his search was for nothing, he discovered it.
Zac pounced, ripping a thread of pure Dao from each tapestry. Murderous wrath shook the realm as the battle stopped. Zac groaned, feeling cracks appear on his soul. He didn’t care because it had worked. The next moment, he was gone, ejected from the vision after he’d stopped resisting the pull.
Left were two fractured and damaged creatures who resumed their battle with a redoubled frenzy.