The entity seemed confident that the treasure could act like an imperial pardon, saving him from Heaven’s pursuit. No ordinary treasure could accomplish that, so it was likely a supreme item like the one the Primo was forced to leave behind. And that wasn’t even covering the dangers of the courts themselves. There was no way they would be empty palaces with the relics on open display.
There was no such thing as a free lunch, and that was especially true for era-defining treasures. But so what? Zac wouldn’t abandon Vilari again after letting her face the evil entity on her own for years. He’d turn the whole trial upside-down if he had to, let alone raid another court.
“The troublesome ones should be focused on the main court,” Zac said with a confident smile, not wanting to worry Vilari. “It should be fine if we can meet up.”
The proclamation wasn’t blind hubris after forming his first Earthly Dao. Zac was in the middle of his final burst of rapid progress, harvesting the fruits of years of hard work. He should have evolved his Daos of Life and Death before reaching the Foreign Gods while getting another boost from the Flamebearer seal. After reaching that point, Zac was confident in dealing with any second-string sealbearers and below.
The only real threat was the devilish talents among the other Flamebearers and potential dark horses of equal power. They should be focusing on Ultom, lessening the risk of running into them. At least that was what Zac hoped, though he knew he might be overly optimistic. Would those talents really ignore the Outer Courts? They still contained peak treasures that could make Supremacies drool.
Furthermore, seizing the Eternal Heritage should not be as simple as reaching the heart of the Left Imperial Palace. It could very well require something like a key from the lower courts, possibly all of them, to prove themselves worthy.
“I’m grateful, but I believe this is a challenge I have to face myself,” Vilari said with a determined expression.
Zac didn’t like the idea of Vilari facing this challenge alone, but he held his tongue. She’d just woken up, and it wouldn’t be too late to revisit the topic later. And there were other ways he could help than joining her in person.
“What do you know about the item?”
“And they’re the ones who helped build the Anima Courts,” Zac surmised. “Makes sense since they were a Mentalist Clan. How can the bell help that creature? And what can we do to make sure he doesn’t harm you if you fulfill your end of the bargain?”
“The bell’s song can create a universe,” Vilari said.
Zac’s eyes widened slightly. “Realmsinger…”
“The titles shouldn’t be random,” Vilari said. “They should refer to the purpose of each Court’s defining treasure.”
“You might be right. But how can a universe-creating bell help the entity?”
“A new universe will create a surge of Primal Dao and providence. He’s planning to use that energy for himself and be reborn.”
“An Innate Existence with the strength of a universe?” Zac grimaced.
“And the rebirth would integrate him with the current Dao, so he wouldn’t have to hide any longer,” Vilari nodded. “Frankly, I don’t have any solution beyond giving him what he wants and running for my life. His plan might not even work. The rebirth would take eons if it does, and I will be dead or powerful enough to protect myself when he awakens.”
Zac could empathize with the helpless look on Vilari’s face. He’d been on the receiving end of the schemes of old monsters more than once. Usually, it was dumb luck rather than foresight that let him slip through the net.
“Did you discover anything that could help us? As to why the Heavens went ballistic from its appearance,” Zac asked. “Maybe we can trigger another crusade after dealing with the danger. It won’t have time to worry about us if it’s running for its life.”
“My ‘master’ claims he’s from the great beyond, but he also seems to have connections to the previous Era. I think he’s the remains of a powerful being or possibly the amalgamation of resentment from multiple such masters. It felt like he held more than one set of memories and personalities.
“He also said that creatures of foreign paths are like carriers of a plague. Their Dao will cause discordance in the Grand Dao, damaging the perfected balance that has formed over dozens of Eras. The Heavens lash out as a form of self-preservation, like a body fighting an infection.”
What Vilari said mostly lined up with Zac’s theory of Jalach’s origins, that he was something like the ‘Gods in the cracks’ that the Limitless Empire turned into the Foreign Gods. The tome he snatched from the Centurion Lighthouse explained the twisted creatures were born from the corpse of a gargantuan species from the Lost Era. The ancient, rotten Dao had twisted them into malevolent miscreations.
A similar process could have taken place with Jalach, except the Primordial Era was much closer. The Dao sealed in the Eternal and Calamity Heritages was still in a decent enough state that it could be used for cultivation, so any surviving entities would probably retain more of their sanity.
There was only one issue with the theory.
“Foreign paths,” Zac muttered. “He might have a connection with the Primordial Era, but there should be some truth to what he said.”
“You really think he’s from beyond the Cosmos?” Vilari asked with surprise. “Have you discovered something?”
“In a way. I’m not sure how much of the outside you could see while trapped in the bell. A lot has happened since you were taken,” Zac said, briefly recounting where they were and their current mission.
“We’re actually in the Zurbor Sector? No wonder it felt as though we had traveled a great distance over the past weeks. It’s really fate. The bell’s connection to me gave us a final opportunity to save our home,” Vilari said, wistfully looking down at her hands. “And you say it was Ralz Calzood who helped you devise the plan?”
“You need to be careful of her,” Zac said. “She came to the frontier for the bell. I think she might have left inheritances all over to act as bait. She should be unable to reach us because of the war, but we’ve already seen the barriers can be fooled.”
“My luck in picking masters,” Vilari said with a rueful smile. “Well, I will keep fighting. The Centurion Project might even have a way to deal with Jalach if they’re the same kind of creature.”
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“Possibly,” Zac said, handing, handing over the [Foreign Gods] tome. “There are some differences between the two, though.”
Vilari’s brows knitted as she skimmed the introduction and the first chapter. “There are no mentions of the Heavens attacking the Foreign Gods.”
“Exactly,” Zac said, flipping the pages toward the end. “This chapter mentions a realignment process. The Starfall Court altered the Foreign Gods so they wouldn’t face suppression from the current Heaven. But it doesn’t sound like the kind of purge we saw when the [Epiclesis Bell] cracked.”
“The Dao of the Primordial Era would be closer to ours than a distant one. The suppression Jalach would face should reasonably be lower,” Vilari said, echoing Zac’s misgivings.
“He might be from the previous Era, as you say, but there is something different about him too. He might have managed to escape beyond the curtain when the Heavens collapsed. And when he returned, he’d already been altered in some way that’s driving the Heavens insane.”
“… Or he’s an invader who arrived during the Primordial Era and somehow survived.”
“Exactly.”
Zac couldn’t imagine anything surviving in the boundless desolation beyond the Multiverse’s edge. The desolation he’d seen went beyond a taboo zone. It was an endless expanse of anti-reality, where no Dao or other forms of magic could exist, which was why he’d rejected Ralz Calzood’s theory. He wasn’t so sure after experiencing the purge. Even the System exhibited a monstrous hatred that it didn’t even exhibit when dealing with Technocrats.
“It’ll take me another day or two to recover,” Vilari said.
“Don’t be in a rush to get back into things. You’ve been through a lot,” Zac said as he stood up. “Just rest up.”
“Thank you. Can I keep this for now? I might be able to discover something.”
Zac glanced at the [Foreign Gods] tome, nodding after some thought. “Of course. Just don’t let anyone else see it. Especially Kator.”
“Again, thank you. I never doubted your words,” Vilari smiled. “And you really blew up the bell.”
“Of course. That’s one thing I’m good at,” Zac laughed. “Get some rest.”
Zac’s smile faded as he navigated the corridors. It was replaced with exhaustion. It wasn’t Vilari’s fault another burden had been added on his shoulders. There was simply no place to hide when the stakes had grown so high.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine, but there are complications,” Zac sighed as he stepped into his quarters.
“It’s not your fault,” Catheya said as she walked over. “Bad things will keep happening. We can only do the best we can with the tools we’re given.”
“I know,” Zac said. “How are you doing with everything?”
“I’m annoyed that I barely get to see my man after years apart.”
“I’ll try to make it up to you,” Zac smiled. “And the other thing?”
“Still nothing. I can’t tell whether it’s because Tavza didn’t enter the graveyard or if the interference is too strong,” Catheya said.
“It’s probably the latter,” Zac said. “My gut tells me the graveyard is teeming with operatives by now, and our scanners haven’t picked up a single ship.”
“I’ll keep trying,” Catheya said.
Zac wasn’t exactly sure why the contract enforced by the Primo was still active when the civil war had begun. It should at least be in his interest to boot Kator from his role as mission leader. Zac desperately wanted to know exactly what was going on, but entering the Imperial Graveyard had cut any contact with the outside world. The only information he could access came through his Status Screens and the daily update of the war ladder.
Tavza had, in a spat of extraordinary foresight, given Catheya a long-range communication device before she left for Earth. Catheya had tried to get in contact with the An’Azol descendant since the mission started, even if it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. For one, Zac wanted to thank Tavza for her help during the Atavism and make sure she was okay.
In addition, finding that needle could solve one of the issues they faced.
“If she’s been able to contact the shores…”
“It’s a chance at least,” Zac nodded.
The first to break the pact would face a tremendous backlash, which was why Zac had repeatedly attempted to make Kator slip up and openly admit to the rebellion or that he’d betrayed the mission. The reaver remained vigilant, though he seemed to delight in hinting at the situation without admitting anything outright. But if Tavza could bring news or new orders, they’d be rid of one of Kator’s holds over them.
“I’ll keep trying,” Catheya said, dragging him toward the bedroom. “Come on.”
“Uh—”
“Not that. You need sleep,” Catheya said, throwing him onto the bed and wrapping him into layers of blankets.
Zac was about to pull the covers away but found himself unable to move. A creeping frost had spread across the bed, turning the covers as unbudging as if they were made from anointed steel. The added weight felt quite nice, and the chill was more soothing than anything. Zac shook his head. He didn’t have time to—
“No,” Catheya glared when Zac started to struggle. “You’ll turn into one of the vengeful ghosts outside if you keep running yourself ragged like this. You haven’t slept a wink this whole week, have you? I’ll release you in three hours.”
“If another anomaly—”
“Then your subordinates can deal with it. And if they can’t, they’ll let you know.”
“Fine, just this once,” Zac muttered.
“Petulant,” Catheya giggled, patting his cheek before sitting down to meditate next to him.
Zac planned on continuing his preparations inside the Shrine of Kanba. The cold embrace simply felt too nice. His eyes slowly closed, and then there was nothing. Zac woke up with a start, feeling refreshed and disoriented. He’d only closed his eyes, but more than four hours had passed in the blink of an eye. It was clear he’d needed the break.
The ice had already released its hold, though Catheya was still by his side. He could tell from her aura she was finishing up her cultivation cycle, so he slipped out to not disturb her. There were a few messages waiting for him, none of them urgent. Zac glanced at the cultivation chamber, slowly exhaling. Instead, he walked over to a table, and a mental command transformed the silver wall into a screen displaying the outside.
The Imperial Graveyard was quite beautiful as long as you didn’t get hung up on details. The cluster of storms they were braving looked like dancing nebulas full of vibrant colors. Streaks of spatial cracks appearing and disappearing like flashes of lightning kicked complex patterns in the clouds, keeping the scenery in a constant state of transformation.
For some reason, it made him think of his gazebo back home and the many mornings he’d started by gazing at the ocean—first alone and later with Thea. It had been a sanctuary of sorts, where he’d tuned out the pressures he faced. Somewhere along the line, he stopped going. Over the past years, he’d only visited a few times to reminisce, and the pergola had become a symbol of a time long gone.
Zac gazed at the scenery for a few minutes before taking out an old coffee maker. It was a product of Old Earth, with enough years under its belt to be considered an antiquity by now. It was one of the first successful attempts at engraving old-world tools with simple arrays to replace the need for an electric grid. Like the pergola, it hadn’t seen much use lately. Zac infused a wisp of Cosmic Energy, and it sputtered to life.
Crystalline water and a bag of Death-attuned beans followed. Zac crushed them by releasing a bit of aura, and the rich aroma of a spiritual blend soon spread through his living room.
“Smells nice.”
“I’ll make some more,” Zac said as Catheya sat down. “You were right. I needed a break.”
“It’s okay to stop once in a while. Heavens know you’ve earned it.”
Zac poured another cup, and the two sat and talked about nothing for a few minutes. It felt refreshingly normal, almost like Zac was sitting at a kitchen table with a girlfriend before the world went mad. Of course, the Zac of back then would probably have been scared out of his mind by the Abyssal eyes of the woman on the opposite side of the table.
Or that they were hurtling through a storm made from damaged dimensions and the resentment of ancient warriors as powerful as gods.
“I never got the chance to ask. That being that protected us back there. It was the Lord of the Perennial Vastness, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Zac nodded. “Well, a wisp of him.”
“A shame I had my hands full. I wanted to give him a piece of my mind,” Catheya huffed.
“Ah? Why?” Zac said. “Sounds like you had a much better experience than Ogras.”
“Oh, not that,” Catheya said, waving at the scenery. “This made me remember the dates you took me on back in the vastness. But I can’t remember the view! It’s so frustrating having the feeling of having seen something spectacular but being unable to recall a single detail. It’s like an itch that I can’t scratch. Why does he have to be so stingy? Couldn’t he have left those memories alone?”
“I’ll forward your complaint the next time I run into the old man,” Zac laughed, though his smile turned crooked when a high-priority transmission broke the spell.
He scanned the message. It was the expected one. Zac sighed, stowing the coffee maker and cups.
“Well, I guess that’s that. Another renegade Trove is approaching.”
“You keep doing what you have to do,” Catheya said. “I’ll make sure you don’t burn yourself out, even if I have to throw you in a sack and take you away.”
“I’ll be counting on you then,” Zac laughed. “I’ll see you later?”
“Of course. Have fun.”