Zac felt like a burglar, narrowly escaping before the security doors slammed shut, when he was pulled out of the vision. He’d undeniably made off like a bandit, and the day wasn’t even over. The madness of two destabilized Dao Tapestries and their infuriated owners was replaced by tranquility. His vision had been split once more, and he faced familiar scenery. He was back where it all started, two spiritual threads floating before Be’Zi and A’Zu.
He was brought here for the first time during the Eastern Trigram Hunt. At that point, he hadn’t reached level 75, nor had he discovered all the Dao Seeds that would eventually become the foundations of his path. He had experienced enough major events to last multiple lifetimes since. And yet, his decades of struggle almost felt like a dream when he faced the two Autarchs.
Everything remained exactly the same in the mountain. The Miasmic river of liquified energy slowly swirled around Be’Zi’s subterranean island, while gentle winds carried the whispers of possibility around A’Zu on the mountain peak. For all Zac knew, they might not have moved since their previous meeting. A decade or two was nothing for an Autarch, who would often seclude themselves for millennia at a time.
Their promise was straightforward; survive the Atavism within 100 years, and they would impart him something from the Daos of Creation and Oblivion unblemished by the remnant’s ancient madness. Zac had accomplished that with flying colors. He was eager to find out what that entailed, but there was something he needed to deal with first.
Or so he thought. There was no hint of the pieces of the Dao he’d stolen. It only took a moment to realize why. The visions came from him being pulled into the remnant. So when he took something back, it should have been deposited within the remnants rather than with his soul. And since he couldn’t sense his actual bodies in his current state, he’d have to wait until he was back to investigate his haul.
“Child of Draug, you have—”
Be’Zi stopped and gazed into the cave’s ceiling with a slight frown. The surroundings shifted, and Zac suddenly floated inside a grand hall made from alabaster and obsidian. Two thrones were placed on opposite ends, with husband and wife ruling over the side formed from their Dao. Zac was placed on a circle in the middle which looked just like the yin-yang sign of Earth. Profound energy rose from the stone, transforming Zac’s spiritual threads into fully-formed avatars.
“You. All this time, you were one?” A’Zu asked, a slight tremor discernible in his voice.
“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. My situation has caused a lot of trouble over the years,” Zac said with a bow. “Is… something wrong?”
“He’s alive,” Be’Zi calmly countered.
“Fine, it’s a wash.”
Zac blinked, looking back and forth between the two. They’d actually been betting on him, even whether he’d survive. Zac was slightly annoyed at their cavalier attitude. Then again, neither one owed him anything, and they had guided an outsider brought to them by the System. Be’Zi was even the one who first erected the cage in his mind before the System came along and reinforced it.
“Uh, anyway. I made it through.”
“Life… Death… Chaos,” Be’Zi muttered as swirls of Oblivion danced around her throne. “Ripples on the lake.”
The Aetherlord nodded, his four eyes seemingly trying to peer into Zac’s soul. “What have you done?”
“What do you mean?” Zac asked. “I survived the Atavism and was sent right here.”
“Don’t worry, child. We have no intention to renege on our promise, even if I found it unlikely you’d reach this point. However, something is happening to the Peak of Chaos. We’re currently outside time, but we can feel its trajectory changing.”
“The timing of your appearance is not coincidence. We need to understand the source of the disturbance,” Be’Zi added.
“Oh,” Zac said, thinking back to how he survived the process. “I think I might have sent the Spark and Heart down a path of no return. Or at least wounded them badly.”
“You? Impossible,” A’Zu scoffed, and Be’Zi’s usually impassive face revealed doubt.
Their reaction was reasonable, even if they wouldn’t have been as quick to dismiss his claim if they’d known the storms he’d kicked up during his short career. Zac still had a strong suspicion that what he’d experienced was more than a vision. At that moment, he’d been faced with the full tapestries of the Daos of Oblivion and Creation, at least as how the two unique entities saw them.
Zac had been almost fully consumed by their collective will, which gave him far deeper insights into their nature than what the short visions provided. He’d realized that Heart of Oblivion and Spark of Creation had never met before. In fact, they couldn’t.
The nature of the Peak of Chaos could be explained through the theory of the Three Purities. The Dao produced the one; the one produced the two; the two produced the three; and the three produced all things. The one referred to the Primordial Chaos, the Terminus of the broken peak he climbed. The two referred to Creation and Oblivion, the delineated Dao.
The three could be interpreted in multiple ways, where Zac leaned toward the addition of ‘Man.’ Man didn’t necessarily mean the interference of cultivators. It was any outside input on the unblemished Dao that Creation and Oblivion embodied. When Man was mixed in, Life and Death were born, creating one of the fundamental facets of the cosmos.
The concept of Three Purities could be observed in most peaks. For instance, the Earthly Peak and the Lower Planes were inextricably linked to the Heavenly Peak, with Man forming the bridge in the middle. It was also part of the conflict between the Sangha and the Apostate of Mercy when they fought over the nature of the elemental Daos.
The Heart of Oblivion and Spark of Creation were the broken avatars of the delineated Dao. Separation was part of their fundamental nature, even if it filled them with a sense of being incomplete. Their existence was exactly like the yin-yang symbol beneath him: forever in motion, their trajectories not fated to intersect.
That had been the case until Zac came along and broke that balance. First, it was through having remnants duke it out. Their fused state could only have one outcome—the delineated Dao would return to its origin, in this case resulting in the appearance of hollow Chaos.
It wasn’t that the remnants were stupid by repeatedly falling for his tricks. They had no choice. The Innate Existences couldn’t stay delimited when meeting its opposite. Merely encountering each other had broken their inherited nature of separation. It was one thing when it only involved isolated slivers. This time, he had managed to connect the whole network with their collective consciousnesses.
Zac had no idea what would come of that. The undying creatures were extremely powerful, so they might be able to overpower their nature and disengage before it was too late. Even then, it would probably come at a price far greater than the small section he managed to snatch. If something was happening to the Peak of Chaos, that was likely the cause.
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“No wonder the Cursed Heavens tried to force our hands, even setting up this Temporal Tributary,” A’Zu laughed after Zac explained the series of events, only skipping Tavza’s involvement. “Worth it. Definitely worth it.”
“The what?”
“You should be aware time has stopped, no?”
Zac nodded. “I actually can’t stay too long because of that. I’ve overused Temporal Chambers recently.”
“You don’t need to worry. What the System has done is something far more impressive. It hasn’t separated our domain from the temporal river. It has created a tributary, allowing time to flow naturally while keeping us in place. It has all the upsides of a Temporal Chamber without the downsides.
“And before you ask, only the System and Temporal Supremacies do something like this. From what I know, the latter are unable to create a perfect loop—at least not a stable one like this. The costs are unimaginable, and the river will fight back with increasing ferocity.”
“Why is the System paying such a heavy price?” Zac asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Balance,” A’Zu said. “Those things have been a blight on the Heavens for too long, making everyone’s lives harder.”
“The creatures you faced were born in the earliest period of our Era. The rules of cultivation were different,” the Aetherlord continued. “The Heavens were an unstable tangle. Moving the Dao toward its natural state of equilibrium caused great upheavals that gave birth to the first generation of beings. The Heavens was weaker, and there was no one to contend with them. As such, they were blessed with a far stronger connection with the Cosmos than what can be observed in the present. They are often referred to as the Primordials.”
Zac mulled over the explanation for a moment before it clicked. “The first generation of Innate Existences were born with Authority?”
“Oh, you know of the concept?” A’Zu said. “Yes. That’s correct, in a sense. Even B-grade creatures were born with something resembling Authority. However, that Authority was flawed, just like the primordial Dao. And since few Innate Existences ever advanced beyond the level of their origin, neither did their insights.
“The Peak of Chaos took the longest to reach a stable state, and the Heart of Creation and Spark of Oblivion should be two of the last Primordials to appear. They were lucky, in a sense. Most of the original Primordials had already disappeared one way or another, and the next generations of races had yet to figure out the rules of cultivation of the higher grades. They were left to their own devices until the world caught up.”
Zac sighed in awe. It was no wonder those things were considered Pseudo Supremacies with unusually high comprehension of the Dao.
“What do you think happens when Flawed Authority blocks the path to the Terminus?”
“The peaks can’t mend,” Zac answered, his thoughts turning to the hand he’d seen in the visions, which had effortlessly crushed the Innate Existences.
Zac had never delved too deeply into why that mysterious Supremacy had destroyed the Heart and Spark. He’d always felt the scene came from a pre-system period or at least during the first stretch of the System’s expansion. He’d even guessed it might be Laondio or Karz who did the deed. It was hard to imagine anyone else wielding such power.
As for why, Zac assumed it was retaliation or protection. Those things were wandering calamities that left utter destruction in their wake. Who knew how many regions their obsession had turned into ruins? Someone was bound to strike them down sooner or later.
“One individual cannot stop Heaven’s reformation, especially not such broken creatures. They can, however, slow down the process. The pieces of Authority they wield are like pools of stagnant water. And with one section blocked, the road for others has grown narrower.”
Zac nodded, his notion that the creatures were killed by Laondio or perhaps one of his generals becoming stronger. Reforming the broken peaks was one of the System’s prime directives, so it stood to reason the Limitless Empire had a similar goal. They might have hunted down any remaining Innate Existences born with flawed Authority they could find, liberating the Dao from imperfect masters. In fact, that might be why they targeted peak existences like the Primo, too.
“These two have proven exceedingly difficult to deal with. Destroying a fragment will only result in the birth of a new one after some time. You might have found the only way to cause permanent damage. I’m of a mind to kick you out so I can witness the change you’ve brought,” A’Zu continued. “Alas, I’ll have to be patient a while longer. First, let me ask you a question.
“What is Creation? What is Life?”
The Aetherlord’s tone sounded uninterested, but the question was anything but simple. It encompassed the crossroads Zac faced now that he’d survived the Atavism.
The remnants had caused a lot of trouble over the years, manipulating his fate to put him on a collision course with the Spark and Heart. They had also saved his life innumerable times, and they’d been instrumental in strengthening his body and soul. Ultimately, the remnants and the Daos they held were an external strength that approached the limits of their use.
His Creation- and Oblivion-fueled abilities wouldn’t be much stronger than his normal skills by the time he reached Peak Hegemony and started to plan for his Inner World. He’d also need dozens of splinters to provide any tangible benefits after his soul and constitutions had evolved again.
It was time to clarify what his path entailed. Was it one of orthodox purity, where his Daos of Life and Death were just the first stop of a longer journey? One that continued into Creation and Oblivion before fusing into the Dao of Chaos. Or should he stake out a path of his own, ignoring the Dao’s natural order?
The most relevant example of this path was the Undead Empire, which subverted the traditional hierarchy to make Death a Terminal Dao. There was clearly nothing stopping you from reaching the peak this way, but his recent interactions had given him a better idea of the downside. The price was a greater push-back from the Heavens.
You were trying to impose your path on the Heavens, and the resistance would grow fiercer the higher you climbed. Iz had mentioned that many Supremacies avoided expanding their Authority beyond their Heavenly Territory, and Zac felt this was part of the reason. It was a road that entailed greater struggle. It was also the road Zac saw for himself.
“Life is possibility given shape. Creation is the motor. They are the sun and the moon, two sides of the same coin. Only when they’re together can they display the full extent of their power.”
This was the answer he’d ultimately reached for his Branches of Kalpataru and Pale Seal. Rather than evolving them to Creation and Oblivion, his path would encompass both. Like the Void upholding the Dao, so would Creation and Oblivion uphold his paths of Evolution and Inexorability.
The first step was infusing the concepts of Creation and Oblivion into his Daos. For this, he’d stolen fragments from the Grand Dao that best suited his path. He was certain they were enough to clarify some of his confusion, enabling him to push the Daos to Peak Branches. Depending on how his words were received by Be’Zi and A’Zu, they might even set the foundations for his Earthly Daos.
Zac understood he was taking a risk with this answer. It was clear that A’Zu and his wife were on the path of fully embracing the Daos of Creation and Oblivion, discarding their inborn Daos of Life and Death. There was a clear difference in the aura Be’Zi exuded from any other Draugr. She had begun integrating Oblivion into her very bloodline, though it was still in an early stage.
Their determination could also be seen in how they’d sealed themselves off in the depths of the Eternal Storm. They’d ridden themselves of any entanglements that would taint their path of purity. Be’Zi had given up on the empire and her clan, and A’Zu appeared similarly unfettered.
In a way, Zac’s explanation was a rejection of their path. He was saying there was no need to do what they did, sacrificing one to grasp the other.
“Your vision goes against the natural hierarchy. Life is Creation tainted by Earthly desires. Death is Oblivion diluted with the sorrows of the world,” A’Zu said. “It’s impossible to travel with someone walking down a different path. If you insist on this answer, we will not take you as our disciple.”
Be’Zi’s silence was a tacit confirmation of A’Zu’s decree. Zac remained unmoved. Rava’s guidance over the past weeks was a reminder of the benefits of having the guidance of an experienced senior. A true master-teacher relationship would go even further than the relationship of quid-pro-quo between him and the Eternal Servant.
“Fate cannot be forced,” Zac said. “My path is set. I’ll follow it to the end, for better or worse.”
An oppressive silence lingered in the throne room for almost a minute until a smirk appeared on A’Zu’s face.
“Good! Only trash would give up on their Dao to follow in the footsteps of someone else. So what if that means going against the Heavens? How can someone mend a broken peak if they’re afraid to face the Terminus head-on?”
Be’Zi slightly nodded in agreement, speaking up after a long period of silence. “We are not fated, yet Karma still binds us. Your gift is larger than what we anticipated. Nevertheless, all things must end, including this chapter of fate. This is Heavenly Law. You have survived the Atavism and excised the lingering will of the ancient apostles. Have you decided on a path forward for the power trapped in your body?”
“I’m planning to keep it contained for now,” Zac said. “I’m still not at a stage where I can freely control that power, and their truths need to be refined to better suit me.”
“As expected,” A’Zu nodded, and a glimmering light of pure Creation appeared on his finger. “This is the first of the four gifts we’ve prepared.”
Zac only had time for one fleeting thought before the glimmering light flew into his forehead and overwhelmed everything else.
‘Did he say four?’