The Abyssal pools filling up Zac’s cells darkened to more closely resemble the real thing. Their width expanded far beyond what should be possible, eventually fusing with the ponds in neighboring cells. Soon, there was nothing else. He was no longer Draugr. He’d become the Abyss. It was boundless, bottomless. It was silence, finality. And it was waiting.
It would be so easy to let go, to relinquish the self and become part of Eternity. The Abyss had stood before the Era’s birth, and it would remain after its demise. What was the point in holding onto a mortal husk? Why wield a pale mimicry of Death when you could become true Death?
Zac awoke and roared with rejection. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t his path. He would walk his own road to the bitter end.
Power given was hollow; true strength was seized. His Death might only be a shadow of the Abyss, but it was his. Zac resisted the pull, struggling to regain his freedom. Like Eoz swimming toward the open sky in search of something more, Zac swam toward the surface in search of himself. The Abyss’s attempts to hold him back failed. He took what he needed and rejected all else.
The Abyssal Lake shrunk, splintering into innumerable gates. Zac was once more Draugr, though the depths of his Death shone darker. The storm ebbed, and Abyssal pools calmed down. Zac finally managed to get his body under control, yet the lingering touch of the Abyss remained.
The call of the Abyss was a lot like the Sangha’s mind poison. It freely offered an almost perfected path. The more you took, the greater the risk of giving in to desire. It was a risk many were willing to take. Zac was no different. He hadn’t planned on upgrading his bloodline today, but he’d lunged for the opportunity when it came within reach.
The gamble paid off. Zac felt the ancient bloodline patterns on his skin. They’d grown stronger since he saw them last, and it wasn’t the only change. Hidden in the depths of Zac’s being, there was a spot of power that filled Zac with warmth. It felt like the comforting gaze of a parent. It was a gift left by Eoz when he reached across time.
Different from the impartments of Azol and Mez, Zac never managed to access that piece. It had eventually faded, waiting for the right time. The gift felt closer than before, though Zac sensed it was still too early. Like the patterns across his skin, it faded, and Zac returned to normal. It was at that point he realized his surroundings felt different.
Zac opened his eyes and gawked at the sight. “What’s going on?”
‘You’re finally done, you lunatic?’ anexasperated Esmeralda cursed from within the shrine. ‘Did you really have to go crazy just because of my little jab? Shoot, I barely had time to absorb two vats before you went crazy and gobbled up the whole manor.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Zac apologized. ‘I underestimated how starved my body was.’
‘Always something with you. Can’t just sit still and meditate,’ Esmeralda huffed. ‘Fine, whatever! You better now?’
‘Yes, much. The elixir was even better than—’ Zac stopped upon feeling a nudge from within. ‘Give me a moment.’
The feeling came from [Purity of the Void], which reminded Zac that upgrading his Draugr bloodline hadn’t been his goal. His aim was to recover his Void Emperor Bloodline. His bloodline was so weakened that it couldn’t function properly. Replacing what he’d taken from the Void Plane would do the trick, but the process was too slow.
The Zenith Elixir was the perfect solution. Its overwhelming fleshy energy was strong enough to force open the gates that connected his cells with the Void. From there, it was a simple matter of depositing a bunch of materials rich in spirituality. Of course, only someone with Zac’s nigh-indestructible body would survive something like that.
Hiccups aside, the plan had clearly worked. The Purification Space was once more open for business, even if it was no larger than a fingernail. The size would limit its intended use, but just having it was a game changer during the trial. Waiting inside was a balled-up piece of paper with a hastily scribbled message. Taking it out, Zac coughed with embarrassment at the intense annoyance coming from the words.
‘You made me lose control. I have to relocate.’
Zac wiped the message and wrote a new one: ‘Sorry. My bloodline evolved. Coming out soon.’
[Death] Branch of Eoz (Middle Shallows): Base Attributes +250, Strength +1250, Endurance +2,250, Luck +25, All Attributes +10%, Strength +5%, Endurance +10%. Effect of Strength +5%, Effect of Endurance +10%.
Stepping into Middle Shallows was only a minor breakthrough, one that didn’t translate into more attributes. He could feel that his body had marginally improved, increasing its natural durability and resistance to poisons and hostile Daos. Unfortunately, only a true Draugr would see the real benefits. The two major perks of a minor breakthrough were improved affinities and strengthened Bloodline Talens. Zac didn’t mind. It was a free breakthrough, and he was one step closer to the big boost from a real Bloodline Awakening.
Reaching Middle Shallows as a Late Hegemon couldn’t be considered an amazing feat. Each generation should have a few talents who’d advanced further, Tavza An’Azol being such an example. The only thing making the breakthrough special was the way it happened. Zac suspected the Abyssal Shores would be shocked beyond words if they learned he’d advanced his bloodline without using any Abyssal Treasures.
With everything in place, it was time to leave. His other half was forced to escape, and the situation in Black Zenith had clearly gone a bit out of hand.
“I’m ready. What’s this place?” Zac asked.
‘It’s the Mayor. He erected atrapping formation around you after you tore down his mansion,’ Esmeralda said, adding upon noting Zac’s frown. ‘It was for your sake. You were starting to attract the unrefined energy below.’
Zac shuddered. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he accidentally drew that unstable energy into his weakened Void. Just the diluted Zenith Elixir had pushed his body to its limits. Extending his senses outward, Zac realized the endless white was just an illusion. There was a clear edge, and Zac pushed against it with his mind.
“Elder, it’s safe now.”
The white faded and was replaced by a scene of disarray. The sprawling mansion looked like it fought and lost a war. Only a few especially reinforced structures remained standing. Errant streaks of berserk energy lingered, indicating the skull’s protective formations had been disrupted. Thankfully, it didn’t look like he’d permanently damaged the town protection arrays. The devilish energy was already on retreat.
Unsurprisingly, the commotion had attracted a huge crowd. Zac grimaced from the scrutiny, turning to Truga Ur.
“I’m very sorry about this,” Zac said and threw over a Treasure Jade Box.
“No harm done. Houses are easily rebuilt,” Truga Ur said with a forced smile. “The way young master cultivates leaves one in awe.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“The Zenith Elixir lives up to its name,” Zac said.
‘We need to go. It feels like this whole place is about to collapse. We don’t want to be in the middle of the chasm if that happens.’
Esmeralda wasn’t talking about the city. It was the memory domain itself that was about to dissipate. Black Zenith felt hollow and faded, just like his previous vision by the end. His breakthrough had drained far more Imperial Faith than the rest of his stay combined.
“I would stay and help, but I fear my actions have drawn unnecessary attention. I should be on my way,” Zac said.
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Truga Ur said, more than happy to have Zac out of his hair. “We wish you the best of luck on your journey. Black Zenith will be waiting for you upon your return.”
Seeing the mob standing behind its mayor, Zac briefly hesitated whether he should come clean about the scam. Ultimately, he decided against it. Even if it was a lie, he’d rather leave on a hopeful note than one filled with despair. Still, he felt compelled to say something.
“Change can be painful,” Zac said, looking out across the gathered townspeople. “Don’t panic. The Empire knows what it’s doing, and it will always provide shade.”
The declaration echoed Kristvan Wendimar’s parting words. Zac had no way of knowing if they were true. Black Zenith might not have a future, but there was no reason for the Limitless Empire to discard its people. They could very well have been relocated long before the earthquakes caused problems.
Zac turned into a streak, speeding through the city and its gates. He jumped onto the chain, and each step brought him further out of the past and into the present. A surge of energy swept through the chasm the moment Zac stepped off the chain. It released a powerful discharge of Imperial Faith into the world, weakening the domain further.
There was no way for Black Zenith to hold on. It looked like the city was dragged through time at a breakneck pace. The chasm heaved, releasing deadly bursts of corruption that forced Zac to back away. Between every upheaval, Black Zenith looked slightly worse. Chains disappeared one after another.
Soon, the whole skull was gone. The heaves grew weaker and more sporadic until the whole chasm flickered and disappeared. The memory domain had officially collapsed, and the area before them had turned into normal land. The only signs of the Zenith Chasm and the city it held were some crags that couldn’t even fit a human. Time had erased the last memories of Truga Ur and his town.
“So that’s how Black Zenith ended up,” Zac sighed.
“I guess the mayor’s fears came true. The Imperial Road destabilized the chasm. Time and nature took care of the rest,” Esmeralda said, glancing at Zac. “We shouldn’t get wrapped up in the lives of these people, even if it all seems real.”
“I know,” Zac nodded.
The two stayed in the area to observe a little longer. The items he’d brought out all remained, and his identity brand remained the same. It showed no signs of drainage after having borrowed Terea Wendimar’s name, and no new lines had been filled in. The city didn’t reappear, though it seemed to slowly recover its energy. A cluster of memory lanterns still fell from the sky where Black Zenith once stood.
“Maybe it’ll come back when the Imperial Faith has reached the required threshold,” Esmeralda said, her eyes gleaming in thought. “What would happen if these things were allowed to accumulate for a few months? Years? Maybe the memories will shift to more prosperous epochs?”
“Unless someone else comes along and drains them first,” Zac said. “You know, the Outer Courts might not even have formed if they’re in the same state. Or at least not reached their full potential.”
“I wonder if that can be exploited,” Esmeralda mused. “What if we manage to sneak into the court before construction’s finished? We could install a nice little back door and come back when the time’s ripe.”
“It’s not a bad idea, provided different versions can affect each other,” Zac said. “Either case, we’ve confirmed that memory domains and memory lanterns work mostly the same. The lanterns give you a specific identity that can be stored, and you can use a stored identity when visiting the domains.”
“Let’s keep going,” Esmeralda grinned. “This place has just resurfaced, and the opportunities are already so good. There has to be countless treasures waiting for a new master.”
—————–
“The towers of Sage Galesee! We’re finally safe!” Esmitha exclaimed, turning to the man at her side. “It’s all thanks to Master Wormwood.”
“Rooting out evil is the duty of all,” the guardsman answered with an even voice. “Even if it comes at great personal cost.”
Esmitha fought hard to hold back a curse. Their benefactor’s appetite would put a bandit to shame. He’d extorted a fortune since displaying his might. Esmitha would have taken her chances and jumped into the gorge if she knew that the life-saving favor would come at such a steep price. The honed instincts of a veteran caravan master screamed it was a setup. Why else would such a powerful master accept the job of a simple guardsman?
But what was the point? There were easier ways for a Pure Lord to make money than ripping off a fledgling merchant house. The senior was more likely here for the mysterious troupe, which only made the situation all the more frustrating. He’d already dealt with the threat, so why was he sticking around like a bad smell?
“Each morning, I breathed in relief upon confirming Master Wormwood’s presence. Surely, someone like senior has better things to do than escort an impoverished family and their meager wares,” Esmitha said with a forced smile. “I feel embarrassed taking up any more of your time. No one can escape the sage’s gaze inside her domain.”
“It’s not in my nature to leave things half-done,” the guard answered, showing no indication of leaving.
Esmitha wailed at the injustice as she took out another box of crystals. It’d be a miracle if she broke even on this three-year journey. “I assure you, nothing will go wrong. Please take this as a token of my undying appreciation.”
The guard looked at the chest, slowly nodding. Esmitha thanked the Emperor her offering was sufficient to exorcise this evil spirit from her life. A shadow swallowed the box, and Master Wormwood was gone the next second.
“It was nice meeting you, lass. I hope to see you again.”
‘I’d rather get kidnapped by bogtrolls!’ Esmitha inwardly shrieked, laboriously maintaining her grateful smile.
The world shuddered, turning into a distant cousin of its former self. Some mountains had eroded while others took their place. The gleaming sentinels erected on the peaks were gone, as was the splendid capital far in the distance. Nature had fully reclaimed the region, leaving not a hint of the glorious civilization that had once stood here.
Ogras looked at the pillars towering toward the sky far in the distance, knowing where he needed to go next. The distance was daunting.
“What a waste of time. Should’ve left after I finished the mission,” Ogras muttered as he stowed the box of impure crystals.
A cold scoff made Ogras jump in fright. He disappeared in a puff of shadows, moving miles in the blink of an eye. Carefully scanning the periphery, he confirmed no one was following him. The voice came from within, or rather from the light that emerged from his chest. It split off, a piece of it turning into a seal on his hand.
Ogras curiously observed the incomplete seal of the Hollow Court, recognizing the aura of the warrior he’d become over the past weeks. The wandering sellsword Andar Wormwood was a manufactured persona. The man’s real name still eluded Ogras, if he even had one. Ogras inspected his Spatial Ring, eyes lighting up upon confirming everything was still there.
He took out a normal crystal and infused his energy according to a set pattern. The crystal flickered and transformed into a token that reeked of blood. Ogras retracted his will, causing the token to immediately revert into a crystal. Ogras would never have guessed there was something special about it. Even now, he couldn’t spot any weaknesses in its camouflage.
That crazy instructor back on Ensolus once mentioned that Ogras wasn’t templar material and that his talents were better utilized in other departments. How ironic he’d accidentally joined one more suited to his tastes—the Nameless Blades. From what Ogras could tell, the Nameless Blades were one of the Limitless Empire’s hidden weapons. Spies, assassins, or investigators, whatever the situation required.
Andar Wormwood had been searching for a dangerous organization with connections to the Selvari Empire. They’d been plotting an attack on the sage Esmitha mentioned. Part of the plan meant smuggling taboo materials by infiltrating smaller caravans. Andar had accomplished his mission at the cost of his life. He’d died from his wounds three days before the illusion ended.
Ogras wasn’t one to die a martyr’s death, and it hadn’t been difficult to sniff out the threat ahead of time. From there, it was just a matter of time before he got rid of them all. Truthfully, the boss had been a tough customer. Ogras would have run for his life if not for the risk it would get him kicked out of the trial.
His hard work paid off. The token was some good stuff. The Nameless Blades had far-reaching authority, and they seemed to have something to do with the Hollow Court. He turned toward the pillar in the distance, uncertain if going there was the right decision. Kator was dead, but so what? He would be there, making disaster all but certain.
“You should be done by now, right?” Ogras muttered as he set out. “Everyone is getting stronger. I can’t lag behind.”
Nearby, another spiritual light fell from the sky. Did all the memories hold opportunities? He’d wasted some time shaking down the merchants, but now he knew what to expect. The next attempt would be more efficient. If he could raid one memory a day, the rewards would quickly stack up. The sound of wooden beads colliding shattered the beautiful dream.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
