This was the first time Zac had laid his eyes on a true, still-growing C-grade Natural Treasure. Its profound spirituality was on full display in a way that the C-grade alloys and refined materials couldn’t match. The flower looked much like a daffodil, with purple Void-attuned petals growing out of a pitch-black center.
The three red Dao petals didn’t actually seem connected to the main body. Instead, they floated around the pistil, forming a conic shape. Peering into the cone left Zac’s head buzzing, forcing him to turn away. The covered pistil was black and almost solely made from Void. The same was true for the oddly crooked stem reaching into the spatial gate.
Zac found it difficult to reconcile the small flower with the might of a Plant Emperor despite the blinding aura that almost forced him to his knees. When thinking of C-grade plants, enormous existences taking up regions or even planets came to mind. Heavenrender Vines, like Haro, were a perfect example. He would balloon in size upon becoming a Plant Emperor, able to cover Earth upon reaching the peak of the grade.
There was balance to everything. Plants with such immense physical bodies would have extremely unimpressive Inner Worlds, sometimes none at all. It was a different path from that of cultivators, with both benefits and disadvantages. Growing in the open meant not having any limitations on size.
Most C-grade plants could dwarf the Inner World of the world’s strongest Early Monarch, and they held as much Vigor and Cosmic Energy as dozens of cultivators at the same grade. Aggressive species like Heavenrender Vines could send out millions of vines to create a sea of attacks that few would willingly take on. However, such plants wouldn’t be able to add any noteworthy mass to their vines.
In contrast, a cultivator could leverage the full weight of their Inner World into a skill or a precision strike. Even with the lower weight of an Inner World, it could pose a greater threat. Beasts were something of an in-between. Their Beast Cores would form Inner Worlds, which were generally inferior to a cultivator’s. In return, they already had greater fleshy power available through their bodies.
Those were just the most common paths and by no means absolutes. There were Beast Emperors and plants no larger than Humans who also focused on expanding inward. The Void flower belonged to this group, as Zac was certain he was looking at the main body. The spatial gate was only there to provide sustenance, not to hold the bulk of its form.
Zac gingerly entered the inner sanctum, drawn by the flower like a moth to the flame. His body hungered for the power it represented. It was also instinctively wary of an existence exceeding its own. Even [Void Mountain] stirred on its own—a first since upgrading the Bloodline Talent with the blessings stolen from Empyrean Chalice’s interred saints.
He’d been wondering if his Bloodline Talent differed from Karz’s, who seemed capable of infinitely upgrading his Dao Sigils. It looked like his sole sigil was more discerning, directly demanding C-grade material for its next stage. While it technically meant he could upgrade it before his next bloodline awakening, Zac needed the strength to absorb the necessary materials. There was no way he dared to bring a C-grade treasure into his Soul Aperture, even a small, innocuous-looking one like the flower.
The flower would need a constant influx of energy to maintain its form. Some of it was drawn from the spatial gate, while the rest had been supplied by the Hidden Earth Abode’s Void-gathering arrays. Zac could also tell that the Hidden Earth’s ambitions weren’t limited to keeping his prize possession safe and well-fed.
The ambient energy inside the isolation chamber differed from the small amounts leaking out of the realm gate. It was neither orderly Hidden Earth Energy nor the Lowest Plane’s raw mix of Void and Dao. It was two parts of the former and eight parts of the latter, and the flower perfectly matched its aura.
Hidden Earth had been transforming the Natural Treasure to better match his heritage. Zac guessed the project hit a roadblock, or he died before finishing the transition, leaving the Void Treasure in its imperfect semi-transformed state. Its nature had already shifted from that of the Lowest Plane, causing its sole source of nourishment to destabilize its folded spaces.
With the Void Gathering Arrays turned off and the stabilizing mountains gone, the flower also suffered both from energy starvation and food poisoning. It didn’t matter much to Zac, who was only interested in the raw energy.
Despite the short deadline, Zac didn’t directly enter the isolation chamber. He moved to a worktable, picking a few of the Void Treasures along the way. They were completely different from the Void Treasures he’d bought from the Void Gate, which had been harvested around Spatial Tears or inside the Void of Space. That was a limited Void still within Heaven’s purview.
The Dao still existed within the Void of Space, and there was very little Void Energy to be found. Otherwise, Zac could have opened up a Spatial Tear to replenish his Void Energy whenever he ran out. It was the same with the Void Beasts he’d encountered. Rather than true beings of the Void, it was more accurate to say they had a deadly allergy to the Dao of Space.
They only embodied the Void of Space, and that was enough to extract a significant amount of Void Energy with [Void Heart]. If the cores of Void Beasts were 5-10% attuned to the Void, then the Natural Treasures growing inside the flower’s domain were at least 40%. That didn’t mean they contained a terrifying number of insights into the myriad Voids of Dao.
The materials were created based on an incomplete set of truths, much like the primordial treasures and Innate Existences born in the Era’s earliest days. This wasn’t something unique to these Void Treasures—the phenomenon defined the Lower Planes and distinguished them from the prime dimensions.
While laughably shallow, the Dao at the frontier was as complete as it were in the Multiverse Heartlands. Meanwhile, Lower Planes were only exposed to a part of the tapestry. Contrary to expectation, having fewer missing pieces didn’t make Lower Planes better. A Lower Plane holding 90% of the Dao, with the missing pieces spread evenly across the seventeen peaks, was simply a worse version of a prime dimension.
Cultivating or being born there would lead to an imperfect path. Such fractured realms were also the most common, according to Esmeralda. People never heard of them since they didn’t hold much value, and the System didn’t bother integrating damaged goods. Only the occasional genius managed to escape the limitations of their environment and reforge their path under the true Dao. In that sense, being born on the frontier wasn’t too bad.
Planes holding a small but complete corner of the Dao were the ones worth visiting. The Eight Hells was the perfect example, almost solely holding the Dao of Death. They’d be among the best places in the Multiverse to look for materials of Pure Death, and undead cultivators could delve into the true nature of Death without other truths coming in the way.
With the Lowest Plane likely sitting at the border between Void and Dao, it likely held an incomplete version of both. Zac couldn’t discern the exact composition in the Void Treasures he gathered, and he didn’t particularly care. Zac directly bit down on a Middle D-grade Void mushroom, and a stream of pure Void Energy spread through his body.
Thanks to the flower splitting its surroundings into two dimensional layers, the Void Treasure didn’t exhibit the unusual nature of the Lowest Plane. There was no Dao to filter out, and the mushroom’s earthy energies were very gentle. It was smoothly absorbed, replenishing some of what he’d spent during the battle.
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Zac continued eating while he took out the [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. He pressed a Void Crystal against its opening and grimaced when nothing happened. This was what he’d been afraid of since trying to use the Holy Relic to pass through the shockwave. The gate was nowhere near as overbearing as his bloodline. It showed no desire to consume the crystal or the Void Energy it contained.
Changing his approach, Zac drew the crystal’s energy into his body and transferred it to his other hand, where the Holy Relic waited. Under his guidance, the wild energy properly poured into the entrance to be absorbed. Zac spent another minute experimenting. No matter what he tried, Zac couldn’t feed the gate without using himself as an intermediary.
The best Zac could do was use a single finger as a bridge. Energy entered through his nail and continued into the [Fuxi Mountain Gate] through his fingerprint. Almost nothing was stolen by his bloodline or snuck into the rest of his body. Would that be enough? Shaking his head, Zac quickly went through the dusty set of notes left on the table. They didn’t help much beyond confirming Zac’s theory of what Hidden Earth was up to.
The flower was called an [Eclipse Twin], once part of a set, where the other half had an inverted distribution of Void and Dao. Hidden Earth had consumed the other flower to force his way into Peak C-grade. The experience had almost killed him. The ancient Monarch still needed the Void Flower to perfect something he called his ‘Outer Vestige,’ but he was justifiably wary of consuming the more dangerous sibling. Hence, his attempt to realign the flower and increase its compatibility.
There’d be no stopping after he began absorbing the [Eclipse Twin]. The petals were part of a natural formation, and removing just one was no different than destroying an Array Core. The risk of something going wrong would increase with each petal he absorbed. The good news was that Hidden Earth had erased the [Eclipse Twin]’s will as part of his efforts, so it wouldn’t actively attack Zac when he tried to absorb it.
Half of the twin’s energy was stored in the petals while the rest was in the pistil. The stalk was mostly useless, in Hidden Earth’s words, only good for drawing nutrients from the Lowest Plane. Certainly, what was worthless to a Peak Monarch might very well be a rare tonic for a Late D-grade cultivator. Unfortunately, Zac had no way of storing it long-term.
He’d already discovered that true Void Treasures would be exposed to the Dao even inside Spatial Treasures, and they’d gradually erode the subspace. Zac didn’t dare put anything in his main rings, only stashing a few in a spare Cosmos Sack as an experiment. Trying to stash the ‘worthless’ stalk in one of his Spatial Treasures would probably cause the subspace to immediately collapse.
C-grade Spatial Rings or higher could probably endure a while, except he had none. Such items were equally rare and expensive since few bothered crafting them. What was the point? Only Monarchs could use them, and they already had their Inner Worlds. The exception was C-grade Worldrings, which Zac eventually needed to get for Haro.
Zac finished the notes and put them away, a rough plan already in place. Two minutes had passed experimenting, gathering information, and planning. Ready or not, the flower wouldn’t wait much longer. Zac sent a final update to his other half before fashioning a dense piece of moss into a crude knapsack. He left through the exit door and returned in seconds, the pouch filled with Void Treasure Herbs—Zac couldn’t take them away, but they could make his job much easier.
The [Five Breaths Domain]’s barrier was already on its last legs, and Zac pushed straight through without using [Void Mountain]. Blinding spiritual fluctuations slammed into Zac as he came face to face with the [Eclipse Twin]. His mind rattled, and some of his wounds reopened by the flower’s latent emanations. Despite the array’s weakened state, it had contained more than half the spirituality.
The small hatchet from the [Warbringer Dharma] became an anchor that prevented Zac from being swept away by the [Eclipse Twin]’s aura. Zac still trembled with growing hunger as he drew closer, and he used it to his advantage. The ambient energies Zac failed to keep at bay were dragged into the depths of his cells, and he released his grip on [Void Heart] to have it swallow chunks of Inverse Dao whenever dangerous levels had accumulated.
Each second inside the containment chamber came at a cost, and Zac had already spent quite a bit of his reserves to deal with Ivar Serpico. Thankfully, Haro was readily providing Vigor through [Adaptive Symbiosis], singlehandedly maintaining [Adamance of Eoz] and [Immutability of Eoz] to lessen the load.
Zac gingerly touched one of the Void petals, slightly relaxing after confirming it wouldn’t lash out from random stimuli. His cells vibrated with desire after coming so close, and the Void demanded a taste. Zac felt himself slipping toward the madness precluding an indiscriminate binge. He held onto his sanity, carefully searching for an opening to snatch the [Eclipse Twin]’s energy.
Extracting energy from the petal proved surprisingly difficult. A small sea hid within the petal, and extracting its waters was like trying to grab the moonlight reflected on its surface. The ball of Void Energy had reached a critical mass, rebuffing Zac’s tendrils. Once again, the Void Emperor Bloodline provided the solution. The hungrier he grew, the stronger his pull became. A rivulet was soon separated from the sea and dragged out of its home.
He’d released the floodgates by creating a hole in the barrier that had kept the Void Energy contained. The sliver became the vanguard of a rapidly growing river that poured into Zac’s finger. The veins across Zac’s left arm bulged from strain as torrential energies passed through. The experience was worse than dipping his finger in acid, and threads of overwhelming force searched new avenues of escape when Zac failed to contain it all.
Zac furiously rallied his bloodline to create a moat of Void to steer the energy into the [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. The [Twin Eclipse] wouldn’t let itself be contained by such inferior power. Over and over, Zac’s defenses crumbled and were rebuilt, each cycle invariably creating small gaps. Streaks of white-hot C-grade Energy set his pathways aflame as they rushed deeper into his body.
Holding nothing back, Zac cranked the golden cyclones in his cells to their limits. Even a fraction of the flower’s power was too intense. Rather than quantity, it was a suppression of grade. Resisting its advance felt like trying to counter a Late Dao Branch with a mere Dao Fragment. Zac’s Soul worked overtime to split the invading streams into countless parcels small enough they could be safely dragged into his personal Void.
Despite the petal being made from pure Void, small amounts of Inverse Dao also made its way into his finger. Zac urgently moved it along, making it the gate’s problem. It was impossible to contain it all, and the concepts exceeded the level of Earthly Daos. To Zac, the high-grade Dao represented a far greater threat than the Void. He had no choice but to repeatedly rely on [Void Mountain]’s Dao-erasing sigil to erase or at least weaken the truths before they entered his body.
The expenditure was immense, and eating D-grade Void Treasures like snacks was only a stopgap solution. The cycle of emptying and refilling the tank would soon wring him dry. Thankfully, the petal was pouring mind-boggling amounts of energy into the [Fuxi Mountain Gate] every second. He only needed to persevere for a few minutes.
While Zac managed to keep his body in one piece, it wasn’t the real battlefield. The clash took place inside his index finger, and it was a losing battle. Cracks had begun spreading the second the process started, and Zac had no way to even slow down his defeat. Soon, his two upper joints exploded, releasing a burst of rampant Void Energy that almost took Zac’s head.
Zac quickly pressed another finger against the petal to plug the leak. Meanwhile, ancient defenses siphoned half the errant Void Energy before a loud snap warned Zac he was on his own. Hidden Earth must have designed an array to drag leakage into the rotating mountains. With those gone, the Void Energy had nowhere to go, and it overloaded the array. Undeterred by the brush with death, Zac kept going.
By the time Zac was about to finish absorbing the first petal, only a thumb, and half his palm remained. Isolated cracks had crept further up his arm, and similar wounds had been opened all over his body from random eruptions. Every moment was like walking a tightrope over a volcano, where the slightest mistake spelled certain doom.
The only thing holding steady was the [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. The chaos was utterly incapable of damaging the ancient formation made from Imperial Faith, to the point Zac had started using it as a shield. There was no sign of the treasure reaching a bottleneck. It readily accepted whatever Zac provided. The question was whether Zac had enough flesh to finish the job.
It only took Zac half a minute to drain the hidden sea, though it felt like an hour. It flickered and disappeared, prompting a deafening scream of danger that dragged Zac out of his focused state. Sensing this wasn’t something that should be blocked, he lunged to the opposite side. Trusting his instincts saved his life.
Zac barely had time to reposition before a blinding flash passed his previous location, twisting the layers of Void and Dao. The superimposed realities had turned into a fractured fever dream with dozens of unstable layers. The only things still static were Zac, the [Eclipse Twin]’s immediate surroundings, and a huge scar flickering with remnant Spatial Energies and Inverse Dao.
The Hidden Earth Abode had been cleaved, including the platform it stood on.
Zac wouldn’t be surprised if the burst had even carved a path through the outer cave walls—it was no weaker than the all-out attack of a Late Monarch. Simply seeing it flash by left Zac covered in welts resembling radiation burns. Zac groaned and stumbled back toward the flower, resuming his extraction before the energy could be released on its own.
Seven more to go.