Kator grimly looked on from the sidelines as the last motes of sunlight entered the Draugr’s hand. The ominous dark encroaching from outside grew deeper as the central spire’s radiance faded. Left was only the Flamebearer Seal floating in the stellar dusk, its splendor filling Kator with desire and irreconciliation. He could see its truth, hear its promise.
He knew he should be happy. While his gains weren’t at the level he’d hoped, he wasn’t walking away empty-handed. Just as important, the madman had succeeded against all odds, judging by the monstrous aura rising from below. There was no joy in Kator’s soul, only pain and anger. And premonition.
The past month was a repeated lesson in fate’s mercurial nature, starting with the unbelievable events surrounding the cursed bell. The idea of sneaking two Autarch into the trial was a calculated risk. Still, the two being routed before they could implement any of the backup measures? The failed schemes hoisted on him had forced Kator down this ill-fated path, where each day left his future less certain.
The strategists had analyzed Arcaz Umbri’Zi and Zachary Atwood inside and out. The dossier on them was thick enough to be considered a Heritage, and Kator had memorized it cover to cover. They’d even managed to confirm the uncanny Dao erasure and his unforeseeable Technique were related, stemming from the Void of Dao. From there, it wasn’t difficult to pinpoint its weaknesses.
However, those dusty old fools failed Kator where it mattered most. They’d chalked up the frontier barbarian’s unlikely journey to three factors. First, extremely high Luck brought from inborn advantages and monopolizing a world’s titles. Second, assistance from his hidden benefactor, likely the Empyrean Throne or a force from the Eternal Storm. Finally, being at the right place at the right time.
With the pillar appearing in Zecia, he’d been swept forth on fate’s rising tide. All that was part of the equation, certainly, but there was something more. What Kator had witnessed went beyond Luck. It broke convention. Destiny wasn’t ushering this bastard on. He was walking along its shores, only taking a swim whenever he pleased.
There was no order, no logic, and the irregularities even affected those around him. The subordinates following him had already surpassed their lot without showing any signs of slowing down, especially the one who made Zachary Atwood the avatar of her faith.
Everything was consumed and turned into fuel for his progress. Not even the eroding Imperial Faith that most Supremacies avoided like the plague was an exception. Each solar flare held enough faith to rewrite a Hegemon’s destiny. A Monarch would be marked at the very least. Unless they found someone powerful enough to break the chains, they’d be dragged into the machinations of the mostly forgotten empire.
Arcaz’s resistance saved Kator that headache, but he’d still been forced to pay a heavy tax for his involvement. He felt as though his bones had become brittle clay after enduring the brutal process of igniting the beacon. Who knew how long it would take to cleanse the massive amounts of corruption that had seeped into his body while his mind was overwhelmed?
No wonder he kept subverting their expectations. No wonder the Threaded Hell’s Jade General sanctioned their escape. Arcaz Umbri’Zi wasn’t a henchman of the Tayns. He was an agent of the Limitless Empire itself.
The more he thought about it, the more obvious it became. The epiphany came with the realization he needed to make a decision. The plan of using the [Solidarity Link] to appropriate Arcaz’s extraordinary Luck and fate during the trial was dead. The notion of keeping him captive and ransoming him to the empire afterward was even more farfetched. Ignoring his Luck, Arcaz was growing too fast.
Kator needed to pick another direction, right now. The target was at his weakest, though that would soon change. Kator could almost see the threads of Destiny swirling around the Draugr. His next powerup was within arm’s reach, representing Kator’s window closing—this was his final opportunity. The Imperial Faith was at its nadir, obscured by the ancient Heavens and the fallen Dao. Only this kind of irreplicable environment could counter Arcaz’s ability to overturn fate.
He only saw two paths forward. Follow in the shade demon’s footsteps by becoming a genuine follower. Doing so would let him continue reaping the benefits from their entanglement. Exchange control for a glorious but unpredictable future. The other was to nip the threat in the bud, risking everything on their unconfirmed report being correct.
Focusing on the floating seal, Kator felt a transcendent calm come on. He knew what to do. Truthfully, he’d known since seeing Zachary Atwood sneak out of the Lost Plane wielding that inconceivable power. It was the never-ending and constantly changing orders from his superiors that had left him muddled.
Kator was seeing clearly now. Instead of worrying, he only needed to follow his heart.
———–
A ray of Stellar Wrath containing orders of magnitude more energy than the [Orionis Blade] tore through a series of walls to reach the Foreign God. The evil creature was prepared this time. A thin, misshapen appendage grew into a claw lit up with veins of intense purple. The collision between starlight and twisted Dao contained enough force to turn Early Monarchs into ribbons, yet the tower didn’t so much as shudder.
The Foreign God’s tyrannical physique crushed the shockwave before it could expand. Only snippets escaped its domain, which was enough to twist the reinforced walls nearby. Zac felt his newly erected connection flicker, and he briefly lost visuals of the area. It didn’t impact the Eternal Guardian he’d awoken. The orders had been engraved on the puppet’s very core, and it would uphold it whether Zac was there or not.
A lightning-quick blur followed in the starlight’s wake, overcoming the suppressed space with an equally iron-fisted force. A gauntleted fist crashed into the creature’s extended claw, compressing the resisting starlight into a blinding singularity. The Foreign God lost and was ejected from its breach with enough velocity to cause glaring wounds in reality. Sunlight and purple mist poured out of the tears, adding to the growing chaos.
Burning fury shook the octagon as the second Foreign God saw its companion get pushed back, and hostility so intense it became a physical phenomenon descended on the beacon when the Eternal Guardian stepped out to continue its pursuit. A good chunk of the stockpiled Imperial Faith had already gone into igniting the beacon, and the chamber was approaching its limits.
Cracks appeared across the ceiling, allowing more of the Foreign God’s malevolence to seep through. Even Zac began hearing dark whispers urging wanton destruction, a release of the pent-up stress he’d accumulated. To ignore the burdens of duty and focus on his own benefits. The seal was right there, waiting to be claimed. He’d set the stage inside the Polaris Vault. It was time to claim his right.
Stolen novel; please report.
A primal force or vehement rejection interrupted the intrusive thoughts, allowing Zac to brace himself just before a tremendous shockwave forced him to his knees. The second Eternal Guardian had reached its target, and the Foreign God had been ripped away from the tower. Another herculean battle between brawn and brutality had begun.
The Heavens were indifferent to the sealed dimension already straining from battle, and an enormous cyclone had formed above the ascension chamber. Zac felt a vast presence similar to what he encountered in the Twilight Harbor from within. It was the Grand Dao reluctantly descending for the Kan’Tanu Pope’s Dao Confirmation.
Zac had never encountered a Dao like the one on display. It was paradoxical, nihilistic, yet desirous. Zac couldn’t be certain, but he suspected it belonged to the Solitary Peak from the feeling it instilled and the user.
The Solitary Peak was a very rare direction of practice despite holding more concepts than the average peak. It embraced all Daos that couldn’t be categorized as part of a group, which distinguished it from all other Dao Peaks. There was a restricting and enkindling bond between the elements, and most Daos of Conflict were connected. The Solitary Peak lacked that coherence, with its parts sharing no common ground. It wouldn’t be wrong to call it the surplus peak, filled with Heaven’s excess Dao.
There was also a second meaning to the name—The Solitary Peak held the Daos of Solitude, Sacrifice, and Severance. The concept of giving up something to achieve your goals, whether that was your freedom, familial bonds, or even your life. The effect was far more extreme than what you saw from the Peaks of Faith or Impetus, as it could only be considered a sacrifice or severance if the effect was permanent.
This was the main reason it was rarely practiced. Giving up anything for the sake of power bordered on the unorthodox. As a result, the Solitary Peak’s Daos were much more popular among Heretical Cultivators than the orthodox path, to the point most righteous factions began to avoid it. It wasn’t worth the risk of being branded as a heretic. It was safer to integrate the concept of sacrifice or severance into cultivation manuals without cultivating its Dao.
It was similar to how the [Boundless Vajra Sublimation] worked better when practiced inside special flames without needing a Dao of Fire. The most common method of utilizing the Dao of Sacrifice without grasping it was burning your Longevity for a temporary burst of power. The drawback of this approach was that the effect wouldn’t be nearly as pronounced as if you actually practiced the Daos of Sacrifice or Severance.
A cultist who was willing to do anything for power wouldn’t be satisfied with such half-measures. If anything, they pushed the Dao beyond its natural limit by breaking the Law of Balance. Zac should have expected the pope’s path to be upheld by the Dao of Sacrifice after seeing the society he’d spawned.
Spatial tears were opening as the Grand Dao descended. Even then, Zac felt something was lacking. While majestic, the Dao felt distant and weak. It was at that time a pillar of crystalline starlight surrounded by a complex web of fleshy tendrils rose from the Ascension Chamber. It rose into the cyclone and seemingly merged with it, though the tendrils stopped halfway.
Zac donned a grim expression as the Dao grew deeper while section after section of the Centurion Base went dark. He’d desperately hoped the chamber wouldn’t work, but it looked like they’d run out of Luck. Zac understood why the old cultists had so desperately scoured the Imperial Graveyard all these years.
Reaching Peak C-grade was almost impossible on the frontier. Going any further was impossible, period. The Heavens weren’t high enough, unable to support the breakthroughs. It had taken the Eventide Asura half a lifetime of preparation to create a single opportunity for a Dao Defense. The fact even the Eidolon and Eternal Clan fought for the chance proved how rare such opportunities were, even in the heartlands.
A Dao Confirmation wasn’t nearly as demanding, but the pope was a thoroughbred unorthodox cultivator with immensely fell Karma. The Asura only skirted the line in that regard and thus didn’t face as powerful resistance. Nothing could be lacking for the pope’s attempt. He’d found the opportunity through the Ascension Chamber, which could strengthen one’s connection with the Heavens while weakening the backlash.
He wasn’t even satisfied there. The fleshy tendrils were attuning themselves to the starlight while the Dao of Sacrifice spread through the base. Zac didn’t understand exactly how, but he suspected the pope was using an unorthodox method to hide from the Heavens. Some of the tribulation intended for his Inner World would instead strike the base.
The first bolt was already forming, meaning Zac was running out of time. The beacon was lit, but that didn’t mean that the base had served its purpose. On the contrary, the experimental guardians were still tethered to the base’s grand array, and Zac had no idea what would happen if the base suddenly blew up. With such weak command runes, the shock could return them to their slumber.
Not to mention, Zac’s people were spread all through the base. He’d already sent them the escape routes found in the solar flares, but it would take a while for them to reach safety. His group was no different. The nearest teleporter had collapsed, and the next one was over ten minutes away. There was no way they’d reach it in time, so he needed to stop the tribulation before it was too late.
The problem was, while the Eternal Guardians were clearly stronger than the Foreign Gods, they failed to eke out a significant advantage. It wasn’t their fault—the blame could only be placed on Zac. His barebones command runes left them dumb, for lack of a better word. They were like Zac before he walked down the path of Technique, having plenty of raw strength but no effective method to utilize it.
The old cultist would finish his breakthrough uninterrupted unless something changed, and everything would be for nothing if he were allowed to escape into the Imperial Graveyard. Zecia would fall even if they managed to survive. Who could stop the pope after he became a Divine Monarch? Even the Eternal Guardians would probably lose if the pope could rally the Kan’Tanu elite chapters. At the very least, he could hide until the guardians ran out of energy.
Zac needed to free up one of the guardians and use it to disrupt the Ascension Chamber. Zac infused his will into the connection and sensed the two command runes. He focused on one and was suddenly awash with unfettered power again. He was the size of a world where each cell held an ocean of starlight. Zac tried to wield that strength, only to find himself locked out.
He refused to believe the connection was just for show and tried another approach. Soon enough, there were some results. Channeling his Daos through the bond altered the puppet’s combat style, though the connection weakened as a result. Was the command rune rejecting all outside interference, or was the problem his borrowed authority?
Seeing the change, Zac quickly stopped to pull out one of his Dao Molds. The vibrant starlight didn’t seem like a good match with his Dao of Death, so he infused the connection with his Evolutionary Dao.
The result was instant. The Imperial Guard conjured an enormous halberd wrought from flames and swung it in a fluid motion, echoing Zac’s Evolutionary Stance. The whole subspace shook as an absolute edge split the world in two. One of the Foreign God’s arms was cut clean off and burned as it fell to the depths.
Zac looked on with anticipation as the blade continued toward the Ascension Chamber but swore upon seeing the Heart Curse’s tendrils grow into an enormous face. It swallowed the starlight and instantly exploded. However, much of the force was displaced, appearing outside the base. A fraction struck the tower, which was only enough to make the Ascension Chamber’s barriers flicker and dim.
It looked like the connection allowed for another infusion, but a temporal ripple took priority. While furious at the timing, Zac wasn’t surprised. He’d never forgotten the threat lurking nearby, and the vigilance paid off. Kator could no longer sit still.
Zac threw out an array of time-absorbing sacrificial dolls before decisively activating Esmeralda’s switch. The [Solidarity Link] was severed, but Zac was stunned to feel a new bond replace the old, one even sturdier than the one before.
“You—”
Kator’s answer came in the form of blinding agony as time unraveled. The dolls exploded in unison, utterly incapable of absorbing the epoch transmitted through the modified link. Desperate, Zac activated [Void Zone] before his body was torn apart by the backlash while infusing the brand with [Void Mountain]. It wasn’t nearly enough. His Void Emperor Bloodline struggled to deal with the temporal backlash during his Middle Hegemony breakthrough, and whatever Kator had unleashed was far worse.
Zac was caught in a loop where each cycle worsened his disconnect with the river of time. The nullification sphere could only slightly weaken the effect, and [Void Mountain] was limited to erasing some of the temporal flow that poured into his body.
“It looks like you’re facing some trouble, friend?” a voice distorted by the temporal flux came from the control room. “Don’t worry. I’ll help out as soon as I’ve absorbed this treasure.”
