Zac would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. The memory’s restoration wasn’t as magical as Sendor winding back time to erase another Supremacy’s attack. It was closer to a large-scale blessing of a support class. Still, the power required to stabilize a whole world was no joke. Roan had gone from a taciturn child to an existence that Zac couldn’t handle.
Escape by waiting out the scenario was impossible now that the Earth Child kept the realm on life support—which was worrying in another way. Zac had tried to figure out just how much the ‘Earth’ knew since Roan called him a distant traveler. The current situation indicated they knew more than they previously let on. Did they know about the continent being used as a trial? Could they be directly involved?
There was no time to figure out how to best approach the reborn Roan. The child’s relaxed stride belied his speed, and he appeared before Zac in no time. Certainly, it wasn’t accurate to call Roan a child any longer. He now stood a head taller than Zac, and only a few immature features remained to remember the Earth Child by. Roan hadn’t just grown up, either. The transformation made him look more Ent than human.
Roan’s skin was unnaturally coarse, like bark or overturned soil. Draped in a simple robe covered in grime, he was dressed the same as the many farmers they’d passed over the past days. Golden strands of wheat had replaced his light, wispy hair. Their rustle as he moved over was indistinguishable from that of the fields. The makeover should have made Roan look odd or even ugly to Zac’s human sensibilities. However, the intense holiness radiating from his gaze barred such blasphemous thoughts.
It was difficult for Zac to focus in his presence. Roan naturally exuded a vast aura different from that of powerful cultivators. The sensation was closer to the mental pressure Zac had felt when forced to take in Starclad’s projection or the Void Mountain’s incomprehensible scope. Roan was no longer a normal being. He was a physical representation of the Left Imperial Expanse.
Zac steeled his resolve. Whether Roan had become an Apostle or God, or he had an obligation to uphold. The good news was that these high-grade existences generally upheld balance to avoid Karmic entanglement and Heaven’s attention. Roan seemed content to stay silent, so Zac eventually held out the [Fuxi Mountain Gate].
“Your turn.”
Roan slightly nodded, and a pedestal of compressed soil rose from the ground. Zac placed the Holy Relic atop it before stepping back. The soil became a conduit that drew tremendous amounts of Faith Energy from the ground, again making Zac ponder how the memory lanterns worked. The amount of faith pouring into the mountain gate would have been able to keep Tam’s lantern going for years.
Seeing as the scenarios were connected, it seemed more likely that the lanterns acted like teleporters. The lanterns took trial takers directly into the continent’s communal memory while the gathered faith of memory domains brought pieces of it to the surface. The personal faith stored in the lanterns only maintained the connection, not the memory realms themselves. That came from the earth.
The pedestal became normal soil, and the glowing faith across the Holy Relic retreated back into the runes. The process was over, and Zac looked at the result with hesitation. The treasure seemed more closely bound to the templar orders than before—the opposite of what Zac wanted.
“This is…”
“The [Fuxi Mountain Gate] is not a natural treasure. It was constructed for a set purpose, brought into existence to advance the Imperial Fate. Your personal convictions are not yet strong enough to replace those foundations,” Roan calmly said. “I have severed its link to the Left Imperial Expanse and restored some of its faded faith. Only you can recover the rest of the damage.”
“All this, and it’s still broken?” Zac swore.
“You’ll understand soon enough.”
“Fine,” Zac exhaled. “How do I use it?”
“Our agreement only extends to opening a path,” Roan said, pointing at the empty circle. “Make it yours by infusing your bloodline. What happens next is up to you.”
In other words, it was the same as binding most treasures. Zac condensed his Void Emperor Bloodline into a drop of blood and infused it into the gap. The next moment, Zac felt a new connection in his mind. There was no presence of an actual spirit, but the link provided some basic information. Roan hadn’t been exaggerating. The treasure was truly in an extremely weakened state.
Zac carefully infused his will through the opening, and an unfamiliar space appeared before his mind’s eye. The pocket realm held weak echoes of the Void, but it was starkly different from the hidden Void Realm his bloodline had created. The Void Mountain was nowhere in sight. Instead, most of his vision was filled by a sea of flames Zac had seen before. It was the corona of burning flames Zac visited at the end of the Pilgrimage of Faith.
After destroying the last statue of interred saints, he’d been dragged into a vision that took him to the Multiverse’s edge. There, a layer of Imperial Faith protected the cosmos from the harsh nothingness beyond. It seemed as though the [Fuxi Mountain Gate] led to a waystation located at the edge between this barrier and the true Void of Dao.
Standing right at the border was the reason for the treasure’s name—a mind-bogglingly large gate covered in cracks. It resembled the Polaris Gate in the Centurion Base; a stone arch without any doors. There was no faith, no Void Mountain, and no desolate nothingness waiting on the other side. There was only a boundless darkness, in which scattered debris of a huge structure floated about.
Roan had called it a bridge. Judging by the pieces, it might have been a literal description. Unfortunately, someone had made sure only rubble remained. The bridge’s collapse was clearly the result of human intervention. The gate itself wasn’t in much better shape. It was lovingly carved to look like a band of laurel leaves, but deep scars and angry burns ruined the beautiful imagery. Ꞧ𝐀ОЁⱾ
There were ancient streaks of foreign Dao lodged in some of the scars. Like the Cosmic Natal Treasure Esmeralda found, only their shadow remained. The rest had likely been whittled down by the sea of Imperial flames. Zac inspected one, and the spiritual jolt almost threw him out of the pocket realm. Such horrifying intent!
What remained was enough to confirm that Roan wasn’t the perpetrator, and neither was it the rebels that had stolen the Holy Relic from the monastery. The scars more closely matched those Zac saw on the Left Imperial Palace when he entered the Void Star ages ago. Zac calmed his beating heart and continued his investigation. He could tell that he couldn’t stay much longer.
Nine towering figures were carved among the leaves, all of them emitting a majestic aura and stalwart faith. Each statue held an item that emitted the aura of the lower courts. Zac wondered if it was their signature relics and turned to the man representing the Hollow Court. The statue made Zac think of Janus, the two-faced Roman god of Duality.
The man adorned a gentle smile of someone who’d renounced fame and fortune. He looked like a sage who pursued the Dao by living among mortals. However, the leaves surrounding him distorted his shadow, which created a completely different silhouette. The shadow looked like a hooded assassin that reeked of malice. The statue held scales similar to the goddess of justice but its shadow was a sea of blood.
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The whole gate was filled with hidden symbolism beyond the nine statues. It would take Zac a while to digest it all, but one repeating pattern didn’t need any further investigation. It was something he’d remember until the day he died. That was his pledge and repayment.
When Zac accepted the [Cosmic Forge]-inheritance, he’d witnessed the final days of the First People. They had created a platform to hold their greatest talents and a repository of their achievements. The symbol carved on every corner of the [Fuxi Mountain Gate] was the one emblazoned on the First People’s library.
Looking more closely, Zac realized that the ancient gate seemed to be standing on a piece of the huge platform the First People had built. Looking at the arrangement, it was clear that the Limitless Empire had borrowed from the First People’s heritage to connect the Left Imperial Expanse with the Void.
The realization marked the end of Zac’s preliminary investigation. Maintaining connection with the hidden gateway draining the already weakened [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. Zac put the matter of the First People aside and focused on the direct implication of the Holy Treasure’s wretched state. This wasn’t how the Holy Relic should have looked when it was stored in the monastery.
It wasn’t a replica treasure. The mountain gate in his possession had already been used for its intended purpose. It had successfully connected the Left Imperial Expanse to the Void Mountain when the Fifth Pillar was activated. Later, the gate was swept up in the retaliatory war that officially ended the Limitless Empire’s hegemony.
Was it its connection to the Void that made the [Fuxi Mountain Gate] impossible to replicate in its proper state, like the other items he’d taken out of the lanterns? Or was there a hidden reason why he crossed paths with it? Getting a clear answer from the one who might know the truth seemed unlikely, but Zac couldn’t put the matter aside.
“The state of the treasure isn’t right,” Zac slowly said. “You know, don’t you? What happened to it? Where we are?”
“The Earth remembers. Even when it wishes it could forget,” Roan sighed. “Do not continue down this road. Beware the blade of causality. The line between past and future must be maintained, or both will suffer.”
A deep rumble underscored Roan’s statement. Zac felt a vague threat from the Heavens and reluctantly dropped the subject. The past and future must be kept separate? Did that mean he shouldn’t discuss the future with those he met inside the memories?
“You should put the gate away,” Roan reminded. “The opening is also a weakness.”
Zac looked down, realizing Roan was right. Part of the rock had become exposed to the Dao, and it was forced to spend Void Energy to defend itself. Zac would have to limit the time he kept it in the open until he could fashion something like a doorstop with his Dao. A mental command made the Holy Relic disappear.
The Holy Relic could naturally be stored inside his body, which also protected it against the Dao. Zac still infused a little bit of his leftover Void Energy, just in case. The infusion was nothing compared to the work he’d have to put in to get the relic back to working condition. Purging all the remnants of hostile Dao would take years, and he needed to refill the whole gate with Void Energy.
There was no way he’d get it back to its former glory before evolving his Void Emperor Bloodline at least one more time. Luckily, he didn’t need to. The original design linked the Void Mountain with a Primal Heaven. Zac didn’t need such a powerful bridge, at least not until becoming a Supremacy. A small but sturdy pathway was all Zac needed.
From there, the possibilities were endless. However, Tam’s crumbling memory wasn’t the place to go over his options. Roan was getting ready to leave.
“It is time for us to part ways. Your contribution has been engraved in the Earth’s memory,” the Earth Spirit continued and pointed at the ground.
A ball of soil rose and compressed into a small token bearing the Order of Fertile Earth’s seal. Next, Roan glanced at a patch of grass. The stalks shuddered and flew out of the ground before weaving themselves together. It soon took the shape of a butterfly.
“The sylphid will guide you.”
“Thank you for your assistance,” Zac said with a bow. Reason told him to be satisfied with that, but his mouth kept moving. “Why are you doing this? What kind of ritual have you prepared?”
Roan shook his head and turned away. “May the Fertile Earth bless your journey.”
With the priests, the phrase had simply been a form of goodbye. The effect was drastically different when the words came out of the Earth Spirit’s mouth. It was a true blessing that connected Zac to the world. He almost felt like he could leap across the whole continent with a single bound.
Roan was already a distant spot on the horizon. Zac grabbed the token and bowed before heading in his own direction. Each step covered ten times as much ground as if he’d used [Skystriker]. Rather than cutting through space, the world was carrying him forward. At such speeds, he should have more than enough time to escape the storm’s reach.
It was a shame he couldn’t find out more, but the Earth Spirit had upheld his end of the bargain and more. The Seal of the Fertile Earth was extremely useful. Taking it out meant people would have to treat Zac as the person the insignia represented. It was almost like a third identity beyond Tam Brooks and Terea Wendimar.
Zac’s mind was a whirlwind of suspicions and ideas. He put them aside and focused on his Warbringer Idol. The battle with the Technocrat squad had triggered [Warbringer Dharma] to a much greater degree than escaping the Monarchs in the Memory Domain. Both had been brushes with death, but only one was a true battle where he came out victorious.
All confusion was washed away by the soothing incantation echoing his path. Even Zac’s perception of his surroundings changed. The fields and forest he passed were not just fading memories held together by a powerful blessing. The world had become an expression of the struggles central to his path.
Life struggled to break through the chains of faith, unwilling to accept their end. The world’s impending demise represented Death’s ultimate control over destiny. Not even an entity like Roan could overcome mortality. The struggle between the two sides was the conflict that pushed the Cosmos forward.
Time lost its meaning as Zac entered a state of epiphany. He mechanically followed the butterfly, his mind consumed by the ever-changing surroundings. Each step brought a new scene and a novel vantage of his Daos. It seemed like only a moment had passed when Zac was brought out of his state. He needed to stand witness to what came next.
The blessing had kept the realm going, but it would soon reach its natural conclusion. Tam had discovered the clearing in the original timeline. Zac didn’t know how to feel upon seeing Tam stop for a breather. The two battles had left him in a miserable state and agitated old wounds. He wouldn’t get his much-needed rest.
The same four Technocrat shuttles appeared on the horizon just minutes after Tam sat Roan down. There were no signs of the great reservoir of faith in the original memory and no hope of salvation. Tam looked at the ships barreling toward them and sighed. He felt no despair about his end, only sorrow at what had to be done.
“I have failed you.”
“No. The Earth said our fate has meaning,” Roan answered in his child-like voice, still as calm as ever. “The Empire will avenge us.”
“I shall stay with you to the end,” Tam promised.
The wounded veteran made a pulling motion, digging a deep pit in the ground. The Half-step Monarch had already emerged from the ship. He tore through space to close the distance, but Tam sacrificed his Cosmic Core and life force to create an impassable inferno. It wouldn’t last long against a Half-Step Monarch. A moment was all he needed.
Roan had already jumped into the pit, his hands clasped in prayer. Tam was about to release his aura and turn the child to dust, but he crumbled into fertile soil on his own. Tam exhaled with relief as he filled up the pit. Finally, he cleansed a nearby stone of mud and moss to carve a single line—Here lies a son of the Empire. May the Fertile Earth bless his journey.
The Selvari could under no circumstance be allowed to get their hands on the child. The truth had appeared in Tam’s heart the moment he saw the vessels. He was ready to perform his final duty, even if it meant taking on the sin of killing a Holy Son of the Empire. Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to face his brothers in the afterlife with such a blemish on his soul.
Tam calmly looked on as the Selvari burst through the protective curtain burning with his life. There were no winners today, but their loss wasn’t enough to make the Empire falter. Their flesh would nourish the soil, bringing the Empire closer to its destiny. Tam willingly sacrificed the last of his existence to ignite a final flame—a beacon in the darkness to illuminate the path for the next generation.
The memory concluded, taking the world with it. A week’s worth of experiences poured into Zac’s mind from his Draugr side as the world transformed. It didn’t help against the sour feeling in Zac’s chest after witnessing the conclusion of Tam’s saga. However, sorrow was replaced by shock when he reappeared on the Left Imperial Expanse.
Zac gaped at finding himself standing before an equally surprised duo. He briefly looked at Ventus, who hid behind his abacus like it was a shield, before turning to Ogras, whose face was locked in a mix of confusion and excitement.
“What the hell?”