The streak of light was joined by a swirl of utmost darkness entering Zac’s Draugr avatar, pushing his soul to its limits. It took Zac over ten minutes to gather his wits, and that was just from accommodating the impartment. Digesting it would take far longer, possibly his whole life. He’d only managed to scratch the surface of what was held within, yet what he’d found left him in awe.
“This should prove useful whatever direction you choose.”
A’Zu’s comment could be considered the understatement of a century. The repository of information that had taken up a corner of his mind was more valuable than a complete Heritage in Zac’s eyes. There were no skills, manuals, or techniques inside, nor were there any actual insights into their Dao. There was something even better. The two marks contained a terrifying amount of data.
Just the reports and calculations from a mind-boggling number of experiments would put the Void Gate’s nuns to shame. They were also filled with notations, conclusions, and unconfirmed directions of thought. In addition, there were mountains of common research drawn from multiple outside sources Zac had never heard of.
The library was similar to the [Book of Duality] he got from Yrial, except the information was solely focused on the Peak of Chaos. The recording method was ingenious, too. The information was transformed through the lenses of his Branches of Kalpataru and Pale Seal.
Zac couldn’t even read the contents in his current state. Almost everything except the introduction was missing critical context without infusing his Daos. He could only intuit that what he saw was the surface of a bottomless lake of information. Zac had no idea how deeply the information went, but he could tell most of it would remain hidden because of his limited level of comprehension.
The repository left Zac humbled. It drove home the efforts and dedication required to approach the peak of cultivation, especially when climbing a broken peak like Chaos. At their level, it probably took thousands and thousands of expensive and time-consuming experiments just to take a small step forward. These two were no doubt performing countless experiments within their Inner Worlds even now.
A whole chapter also covered the remnants, discussing their composition, nature, and usage. Those notes were clearly not just theory. There was practical experience behind the concepts, meaning they must have found some remnants for experimentation. This chapter was created with him in mind rather than the result of this powerful couple’s own cultivation.
The last section on the remnants posited dozens of ways they could be utilized after surviving the Atavism. Zac already had very strong theoretical foundations for his level, and he could tell they all held great promise. He wouldn’t even need the help of an epiphany to create a working technique from many of the concepts introduced.
Being split into two had proven unexpectedly useful in the war. It would also allow him to visit Sanctuary and the Abyssal Shores simultaneously after Ultom, though the current situation in the Undead Empire had introduced uncertainty to that plan. Despite the benefits, Zac had never given up on returning to normal. Being a duality simply didn’t feel like his natural state. Becoming one was also required to unlock the true power of his path. Evolution and Inexorability needed to be fused to display the limits of his path.
Zac had already begun drafting a basic framework for reverting the split. Progress was slow because he lacked the theoretical foundations, and Ultom’s inspiration couldn’t solve these deficiencies. Ultom held all the answers, but the key was knowing the right questions. If you used it blindly, you’d only be able to build on something that already existed.
There were three subjects Zac needed to master before successfully fusing: his Origin, the Void, and the Peak of Chaos. He still only grasped bits and pieces of the Kayar-Elu’s experiment. He needed to actually understand how his Specialty Core and the Quantum Spaces worked before he dared fuse himself back to one body. He also needed to know if any more surprises were waiting for him in the later stages of his journey.
It was highly likely he’d need to modify the Duplicity Core to suit his Human-Draugr combination to avoid an even worse fate than what he encountered during his D-grade breakthrough. Doing so without knowing the complex schematics that went into its creation was bound to backfire. Thankfully, he already had a lead on uncovering these secrets. They were the supposed reward for completing Leandra’s task to infiltrate Sanctuary in the Eternal Storm.
Relying on the Void was unavoidable if he wanted to fuse before comprehending the Dao of Chaos. He’d formed his core by borrowing truths from Ultom and relying on the quantum space. If he wanted to fuse his two halves, he’d need to understand the Void and tailor a solution that worked without the help of a special environment. He had finally made inroads on this aspect after upgrading [Void Mountain] and activating [Spiritual Void]. There was also the upcoming trial and possibly the Sindris Clan to provide further clarity.
That left the Peak of Chaos. It was his Daos of Life and Death and incompatible constitutions that almost killed him back in the Perennial Vastness. His Branch of the War Axe amplified the conflict, but it wasn’t really part of the problem. He’d need a much better understanding of the mechanics of the Peak of Chaos, even if he had the Void to act as a mediator. The library he’d just received would do the heavy lifting in this regard.
Zac’s ambitious goal of fusing back together when stepping into Monarchy suddenly felt a lot more achievable. He would have been more than satisfied with this impartment alone, and it was only the first of four.
“Thank you,” Zac eventually said. “This is extremely helpful.”
“Experience can only save time. It cannot solely be relied on,” Be’Zi reminded. “The fine details of your Dao can only be explored on your own.”
“I understand.”
“Next—”
“I’m grateful, but this is already more than I expected,” Zac said.
He squeezed out the words with great reluctance. However, he’d become more conscientious about the importance of balance lately. He felt he’d be taking too much if he kept accepting gifts from these two. He’d feel in debt, and they’d fail to sever Karma and wholeheartedly focus on their path of purity.
“Providing these records came at no cost or difficulty to us. Its value is negligible compared to the value of you passing the Atavism.”
“Why would that—” Zac said, his question stalling as multiple pieces of information crystallized into an answer.
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Zac’s actions had struck a grievous blow to the Primordials. Since these two could already sense changes in the Dao, he might actually have cost the Primordials some of their Authority over the Daos of Creation and Oblivion. This represented a huge opportunity for those who were searching for the deepest truths on the Peak of Chaos.
Surviving the Atavism the normal way wouldn’t have nearly that kind of impact. However, it still meant ripping a piece out of the tapestry of Grand Dao and damaging its owner. With the Primordials being so intimately connected with the Heavens, it would likely create ripples on the Dao. Observing those changes might be more valuable than eons of normal experiments for cultivators at A’Zu and Be’Zi’s level.
“Ripples on the lake,” Be’Zi murmured, understanding the thoughts running through Zac’s head.
“I think I understand. But why the 100-year deadline if you’d benefit either way?”
“Speed is critical,” the Sharva’Zi Matriarch said.
“The longer a carrier takes, the more they will have sacrificed by the time they make their final stand. You’d already be halfway integrated into the tapestry. Passing the Atavism after 300 years is impossible. One hundred years is the limit of succeeding without crippling yourself,” A’Zu nodded. “You’re intimately connected with the Cursed Heavens and swept up in its schemes. We needed to be careful about what we said not to become targets of its ire. So we chose to present an incentive instead.”
“Thank you,” Zac said again.
Zac was certain he would have reached this point no matter what. Whether by fate’s or the System’s design, he kept running into the remnants. However, Be’Zi’s mention of surviving the Atavism and putting a seemingly harsh deadline on passing it changed his frame of mind, making him put greater efforts into preparing for it.
“The second gift is a helping hand. We can see the shadow of a great suppression on your spirit. You are currently facing a great threat on the outside.”
“My situation on the outside is a bit tricky,” Zac coughed. “I’m currently trapped between four Autarchs fighting over me.”
“Aren’t you popular?” A’Zu said, his brow slightly raised.
“Well, one side wants to enslave me while—”
“Stop. The circumstance does not matter,” A’Zu said. “We do not wish to have our sanctuary tainted by the woes of the outside. Like you, we’ll follow our path to the end. We’ll imbue your spirit with a thread of our power. It should be enough to deal with the threat you face. How you use it is up to you.”
Zac felt a weight lifted off his shoulders upon seeing the Aetherlord’s calm expression. In terms of long-term value, a wisp of B-grade power was nothing compared to the library. However, it was exactly what he needed right now. There were a lot of moving parts on the outside, and there was no guarantee that calling on the System could solve his problems.
Autarchs were ultimately beings who’d formed a ladder to the Heavens, giving them some ability to resist it. The System wouldn’t come in full force for his Glimpses of Chaos like during his talk with Sendor. Exposing the entity within the bell would definitely do the trick, but that would take a moment. Between the bell, Vilari, and his crew aboard the Yphelion, there was a risk someone would be harmed or captured before he could have the System and the old Heavens swoop in and deal with things.
The absolute power of the two Autarchs before him could remove the risk entirely if he played his cards right. He wasn’t the same person as the one who stood before these two Autarchs last time. For one, he could better gauge their strength than before. They were far more powerful than the Autarchs who’d snuck into Zurbor.
If Zac had to guess, he’d say A’Zu and Be’Zi were fourth or fifth-step Autarchs. It might not sound like much compared to Peak Autarchs at the Eighth Step like Iz’s guardian or the mythological Ninth-step Autarchs that almost only existed as a theory. Even then, it made them bigshots within the grade. Only one percent of all Autarchs managed to advance beyond the first step.
B-grade factions neighboring the frontiers, like the Radiant Temple and Havarok Dynasty, would generally only have First-step Autarchs, with the leader simply being someone with deeper foundations or stronger equipment. The strength of the married couple before him would be a huge deal even in the Multiverse Heartlands. Be’Zi could become one of the leaders of the Zi branch of the Abyssal Shores if she returned, and Sharva’Zi’s status would skyrocket.
“The third gift is connected with the second. You’ll receive both upon leaving,” A’Zu continued. “It’s the thing we originally promised—a glimpse of true Oblivion and Creation unsullied by that ancient madness.”
“A Dao Impartment will damage your foundations. It’s a waste of such a precious gift since we walk a different path. I even got a piece from the Primordials already.”
A’Zu’s outer eyes rapidly blinked in a way that Zac, for some reason, felt mocking. “You might have your own ideas for the Peak, but you need to learn to walk before you can run. No matter how you arrange things in the end, you have to begin with the basic building blocks.”
“The accord cannot be broken. It was spoken with the Heavens as a witness,” Be’Zi added.
“You don’t need to worry about us. Our difference in level is great, and neither of us has left an impartment before. We’ll fully recover in a few millennia, and we’re mostly forgotten by the world. Our wisps will take you to the Grand Dao before bringing you back,” the Aetherlord said, settling the matter.
“I won’t waste the opportunity,” Zac said with determination.
“Good,” Be’Zi said, taking out an item. “The final gift we leave represents our gratitude for going far beyond our expectations and our aspirations for your future. In accordance, it is the most valuable by far.”
Most valuable by far? Zac gulped, looking at the nondescript item in Be’Zi’s hand with a mix of expectation and confusion. That thing was more valuable than two Dao Impartments, a lifetime’s worth of experience, and a killing blow of a Mid-stage Autarch?
“What is it?” Zac couldn’t help but ask as he looked at the mottled key in Be’Zi’s hand.
It looked like something used to lock up an old toolshed rather than a supreme treasure. It appeared crudely made and disfigured, having been bent and scratched up after extended use. It didn’t emit a speck of energy, either, to give a hint of its purpose.
“[Chaos Cipher],” Be’Zi said. “A relic from a bygone time.”
“Chaos cipher…” Zac said, his eyes gradually widening in alarm. “Don’t tell me it’s related to an Eternal Heritage?”
“Yes and no,” Be’Zi said, drawing a confused look from Zac.
“You should be aware we’re currently in the Era of Order since you know of Eternal Heritages,” A’Zu said, continuing after Zac nodded in affirmation. “Order has brought structure. A hierarchy of established factions controls all integrated space, and society gravitates toward the order of Empires. The torch of cultivation is passed on through familial bonds, and a delicate balance is enforced.
“The Era of Order could be considered a reaction to the previous one, which is commonly referred to as the Primordial Era. Primordial Chaos forming the lynchpin of reality led to a very different environment. Factions neither grew as large nor as enduring as what we’ve witnessed in our time. Those seeking the Dao more often resembled Wandering Cultivators.
“They traveled alone or in small groups of like-minded people. The weak walked the earth, and the strong traveled beyond the stars. They were generally referred to as Demonic Cultivators. Mind you, they were not intrinsically evil. They followed their inner voice, ignoring the law of man or the Heavens.
“This chaotic environment wasn’t necessarily worse than the road of cultivation we have today. Fewer reached the peak because they relied on nothing but their hands and determination to seize a corner of the Heavens. However, those who did were generally stronger than the cultivators of today. Of course, our generation also has the System, so it’s impossible to make a perfect comparison.”
What A’Zu described lined up with Iz’s description of progenitors. The few who managed to rise to B-grade and higher often wield greater power than normal while having stronger Dao Hearts. They had built their path through greater effort since they didn’t have any elders or ready-made Heritage to fall back on.
“The downside of the Primordial Era’s environment was the limited culture of inheritance. You may not be aware, but Eternal Heritages can be separated into two categories. True Eternal Heritages are likely those you’ve heard of. Places of ultimate power that surpass the Dao, allowing it to survive Era after Era.”
“The [Chaos Cipher] is not related to one of them,” Zac concluded.
“No,” A’Zu sighed. “Not a single faction of today has the resources and strength necessary to erect a True Eternal Heritage. The Limitless Empire was the only one that possessed the qualifications, but they created the System instead. So, how could the solitary cultivators of the previous era accomplish something like that? As far as we know, there are no True Eternal Heritages left from the Primordial Era.”
“That brings us to the second category of Eternal Heritages. They’re called Cataclysmic Heritages, and the [Chaos Chipher] we’re bequeathing you will provide access to one called the [Waking Nautilus].”