“Hurry up, will you?” Ogras grunted, his nerves taut like bowstrings.
“I’m going as fast as I can without damaging it further,” a pale-faced Kalir assured as he copied the contents of an ancient jade figurine marred by small cracks to his prepared receptacle.
Keeping what little remained of the repository’s ruins aloft on a bed of shadows wasn’t too taxing. He simply needed to maintain a respectful distance from the shrinking barrier that lived on borrowed time. A storm of earthy forces had already formed outside, with more fuel seeping through the cave’s cracks every second.
The problem was how easily the incredibly sturdy building had been ripped apart, with most of the destruction happening without warning. The danger coming from the manor’s inner sanctum far exceeded what waited outside. They were only alive because he maintained transfer points, allowing for near-instant movement in case of danger.
One mistake and they’d get erased, not even leaving a corpse behind, and Ogras understood that moment was creeping closer and closer. The terrifying eruptions coming from Zac’s direction were growing exponentially in frequency and power. The rest of the manor was long gone, torn asunder just thirty seconds after the first blade of repressed Dao carved a path through its foundations.
Technically, the inner sanctum remained. The building was trapped by a disorienting domain resembling a hall of mirrors, forced into a prolonged existence by whatever that madman was up to.
“Done! That’s the last of them, right?” Kalir said, his expression conveying that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Relax, that’s the last one,” Ogras laughed. “Why so glum? Wasn’t this your plan?”
“My plan?” Kalir spat. “My plan went out the window around five disasters ago. We need to get out of here now. It’s a miracle we’re still alive.”
‘Sure, but the dispersed energies are more than enough to do us in,’ Ogras said while moving a hidden shadow toward the Cosmos Sack holding the original Heritage.
Just when Ogras was about to steal the prize, the shadow tendrils he used as sentries were erased—down to the last one. Three layers of wraiths were annihilated silently and instantaneously, forcing Ogras to rely on instinct and dumb luck. Ogras grabbed Kalir and escaped the invisible streaks that obliterated everything it touched.
This one was different from the previous eruptions. Ogras looked on with horror as the opposite side of Hidden Earth Abode suddenly expanded to ten times its original size. More than fifty miles of bedrock and rampant energies had been obliterated before the wave of hidden energy was exhausted, all in the blink of an eye.
Had the blast been pointed in their direction, they would have been erased along with a chunk of the Dipper Mountains. No matter how confident Ogras was in his movement skills, there was no escaping that kind of vast, sweeping wave of utter annihilation. Weaving between the streaks that had detached from the main body already pushed his Luck and skills to their limits.
‘Don’t look for something you can’t see! Observe the changes in the Dao.’
‘What do you think I’m doing?’ Ogras cursed.
‘I still can’t believe that madman wields the Forbidden Darkness. None of our experiments ever showed a hint of success.’
Ogras ignored the goblin’s chatter, though he agreed with the sentiment. He’d had his suspicions about Zac’s Heaven-rejecting abilities for a while. The Hidden Earth Abode had all but confirmed they were connected to the Void, no matter how much Zac skirted the subject. How one could wield emptiness was beyond Ogras, but he’d bet his left arm it was related to Zac’s crazy Technocrat mom.
The why didn’t matter so much as surviving the fallout. Ogras desperately searched for the elusive answer he’d glimpsed during his sparring sessions in the Imperial Graveyard. Zac had suddenly turned into a ghost, moving in ways that his brain said was impossible. The instincts that had kept him alive through countless tribulations became anchors weighing him down.
Giving up on rationality and logic had been the only way to mount a resistance against attacks touched by the Void, except that method was a half-measure that forced you into a reactive state. After getting beaten black and blue enough times, Ogras had sensed that Zac’s experimental Technique wasn’t undefeatable—even without memorizing the inexplicable attack patterns.
Void wasn’t an absolute counter to Dao. They were perfectly balanced, meaning Ogras should be able to nullify the Void by sticking to his Dao. The idea was simple in theory and highly difficult in practice. Ogras never managed to figure it out during their sparring sessions, and there’d been no point spending time on the subject.
Ogras wouldn’t be surprised if the number of Void Cultivators in the Multiverse could be counted on one’s hands. So what was the point of figuring out counters to their unusual abilities? The only way he’d target Zac was if Ogras had already lost his mind, so not knowing how to breach his friend’s defenses was for the best.
It was just their dumb Luck stumbling onto a second Void Cultivator and his related Heritage. Far be it from the Heavens to let a simple treasure be waiting for them at the end of their journey. Ogras had no choice but to pick up his abandoned project. The last day had brought Ogras closer to the answer he sought, especially his brushes with death from the Golems spitting Void-imbued gravel.
Ogras was out of time. He’d been thrown into a lake and it was sink or swim. The whole Hidden Earth Abode was covered in a moving web of invisible fault lines, each thread holding the power of a Monarch’s attack. There was nowhere to run, and he’d quickly run out of shadows if he blindly relied on them to test the waters.
Observing the spots where Cosmic Energy and Dao were removed was only the beginning. He needed to anticipate where the streaks would move next. Going with the opposite of what his instincts told him wasn’t enough. The danger pushed Ogras’s mind into overdrive and he finally grasped something. What was Void, if not Heaven’s shadow?
His mind shuddered and turned blank. This time, it wasn’t his Spiritlocked prisoners or subconscious hijacking his mental faculties to deliver a message. It was the clarity of enlightenment. The idea that everything cast a shadow, even the Dao, was the missing piece. Time ground to a halt as the vast presence of the Ruthless Heavens descended to deliver a crackling wave of gold.
The force didn’t miss a single shadow, yet there was no danger or threat. The tribulation gathered in his mind after making a cursory inspection, flooding his Branch of the Grey World. The Heavenly Lightning became an agent of change, helping his Dao Avatar transform into a complete world shrouded in layers of shadows. There was constant movement within, but it was impossible to say whether it was real or one’s eyes playing tricks.
The Ruthless Heavens weren’t interested in prolonging its stay. Its presence faded, leaving only wisps of its power. Ogras couldn’t believe his desire to understand the Void had let him advance his Branch of the Grey World to an Earthly Dao. Equally shocking was that the Ruthless Heaven appeared to have given him an automatic pass, forgoing any test to prove his worthiness of continuing down the Heavenly Path.
Was this how it felt to be a Heaven’s Chosen?
Time resumed, and a surge of strength accompanied Ogras’s new understanding. Trusting the signs, he inched to the side. His instincts proved right this time. He only had a layer of skin shaved off while all the energy around him winked out of existence.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It wasn’t by any means a perfect answer, only a corner of a greater truth. Together with the strength provided by his Earthly Dao and the Ruthless Heaven’s blessing, it was enough. The number of shadows he lost to the Void was reduced by a significant degree, and he continued his dance until the mountain’s ambient energy had whittled down the lingering Void.
“I guess that’s our cue,” Ogras said as he let go of Kalir. The merchant had curled into a ball, desperately grasping a talisman in each hand. “Hand me the originals.”
Kalir sprang to his feet, the life-saving grace forgotten when faced with threatened profits. “What! Why do you suddenly want them? Their Spirituality is weak. The slates were more than able to imprint their lingering truths.”
“Then it won’t matter if you bring the copies to your clan,” Ogras shrugged. “If you disagree, I can only take you to the boss and let you two discuss the allocation.”
Kalir nervously glanced toward the unstable anomaly in the distance, unconsciously adding some additional distance. The massive eruption of Void had exhausted the inner sanctuary, but it was clearly rearing up for another round. “Uh, you’re right. The originals are truly in a bad state. They might not last until the Margrave arrives. I’ll keep the copies as you suggested.”
“Wise decision,” Ogras nodded while a shadow snatched the Cosmos Sack.
One by one, the figurines and tablets were taken out and inspected before being placed into his own Spatial Ring. Ogras wasn’t one hundred percent certain of the trial’s rules, and keeping items in his containers seemed the prudent choice. As for the crude seal placed on all Spatial Treasures inside the Dipper Mines, K’Rav only needed a few hours to remove them.
“Then, can we go before this whole place is dragged into the abyss? This is our opportunity. The accumulated energy has been exhausted. When’s the Young Lord coming to meet us?”
“He’s not. Our mission is done, so we’ll go our separate ways,” Ogras said.
“You’re leaving me to fend for myself?” Kalir asked.
“Don’t pretend you don’t have a way out. You might not have expected that miner to be an old monster in disguise, but you’d be prepared for the consequences of looting the manor,” Ogras lazily said. “Don’t worry, we’re not interested in your fallbacks. We have better things to do.”
“…Fine, though I don’t know how they’ll fare with how things turned out,” Kalir sighed. “Please give my thanks to Lord Wendimar. The Whitecrest Consortia and I owe him a great debt.”
“It’s the duty of all the Empire’s subjects to contribute in times of need. It’s only a shame our timely assistance came at great personal costs. I had to use multiple life-saving items to resist that mad Void Herald and then keep you safe,” Ogras sighed, his hand by coincidence reaching out. “Come to think of it, you’re a merchant. Why don’t you stick around a bit longer, and I’ll place an order to restock.”
“You want to place an order? Now?” Kalir said with exasperation as a few shadows blocked his escape. “Just visit our nearest market, and I’ll make sure you get the best deal.”
“What if I encountered another disaster on the way while so short on supplies? How would I answer to the Young Lord?”
Kalir sneered at Ogras’s pained expression, reluctantly taking out a previously hidden Spatial Ring. “There’s no need to place an order. Please accept this small token of my gratitude.”
“You didn’t have to,” Ogras said with an equally fake smile after confirming a small fortune waited inside.
‘What a craven bastard you are,’ K’Rav sneered, though the goblin was unable to hide the gleam of respect in his voice.
‘Every little bit counts. I’d have to be a fool not to take a bite out of such a juicy little sheep before it’s too late.’
“Then, if you’ll excuse me?” Kalir said. “I have to recalibrate my escape route.”
“Oh, don’t forget to inform the general about our contribution,” Ogras added, taking out the blood-drenched token he got from his identity. “Otherwise, my seniors might be led to believe there’s corruption growing in the Whitecrest Clan.”
“That sigil! You’re a Nameless Blade?” Kalir gasped, looking at Ogras with dread and realization. “Is this all part of the Margrave’s—”
“Don’t you mind that. Just follow through on what you promised. You should really go before it’s too late,” Ogras said before melting into the shadows.
Ogras fought his instincts, moving directly toward the heart of danger. Of course, he maintained a shadow wraith to keep an eye on the little nobleman. Surprisingly, he flew in the opposite direction of the newly opened gap leading back toward the Muddy Patch Vein. Even if the mine vents were flooded with energy, it beat staying in this terrifying pressure cooker.
Instead, the merchant took advantage of the temporary safety to enter one of the two outer manors still standing. Ogras’s eyes gleamed with realization upon seeing Kalir reactivate the [Seven Leap Array]. That Formation Master was quite the talent. He hadn’t just created a shunt to stop the flow. He’d actually turned at least one of his modifications into an escape teleporter.
Conventional teleportation wouldn’t work when space was this unstable or when surrounded by such intense energy fluctuations, for that matter. However, the array perfectly matched the ambient energy. It’d transfer Kalir through the Lower Planes, which were more accessible than ever. Of course, Ogras couldn’t care less whether it worked or not. He’d only humored the memory in case Zac’s theories about the trial’s causality proved correct.
‘There’s no need for you to go this far,’ K’Rav urged from within the [Shadewar Flag] as the inner sanctum drew closer. ‘That little devil is a chosen of the ages. He’ll be fine. But a fool like you? Don’t kid yourself. Just steal that brat’s escape route and wait outside.’
Ogras couldn’t craft a response that made sense so he threw logic out the window. It never did him any good anyhow. ‘Don’t kid myself? Why not? I’ll fool myself, then the world, and finally the Heavens. I’ll turn lies into truth and make what’s false real. Now, suggestions, or I’ll just have you search for a path inside like those miners.’
‘You…!’ the Ra’Lashar Goblin sputtered with exasperation. ‘Whatever.Just make use of your fancy new constitution. Wait for the next eruption of Dao and enter through its trajectory.’
Ogras had no better idea. He couldn’t even see Zac in the bubble holding countless distorted realms that kept shifting, and the few shadows he’d sent inside were quickly torn apart as realities collapsed. He didn’t have to wait long for the path K’Rav suggested to appear. A blade of Inverse Dao cleaved the domain on its way to join the madness outside, and Ogras rushed inside.
The blade would have removed all Void on its way out, and its lingering energy held the twisting realities at bay. It let Ogras side-step the labyrinthian barrier and directly enter the inner chamber. The inferno waiting for him inside almost made him turn tail and run. Reality was being held together by intense pressure and deadly levels of energy. There were countless spatial fractures that failed to form properly because there was no room to expand.
The sole sanctuary was a sphere of five meters surrounding Zac. Ogras wouldn’t have recognized his friend if not for the distinct phenomenon of nothingness surrounding him. It was the same Dao-rejecting ability he’d used to keep them safe when entering the manor.
Zac was covered from head to toe in deep fissures and severe Energy burns. His face was gone; even his eyes had been destroyed. He was missing all his limbs up to his knees and elbows. Even so, Zac was still working on a small flower growing out of an unstable spatial tear. It had one petal with blinding Dao and another whose outline Ogras could barely discern.
The illusory petal was no doubt Zac’s target, and Ogras roughly understood the course of events. It was the last of many petals made from Void, and Zac was sacrificing his flesh to transfer their energy into a piece of rock covered in golden runes.
‘That madman is using his body to transfer the energies of a Peak C-grade treasure—one made from the Forbidden Darkness, at that! Not even lunatics among the Grand Explorers from my old kingdom would think of doing something so foolish. How is he still alive?”
‘Well, look at it from the bright side. There’s only one petal left,’ Ogras sighed upon seeing his supposed lifeline.
Despite Zac’s miserable appearance, Ogras saw no reason to change his plans. He was on the right track, and the voices of “reason” urging him to sneak back out and search for an exit among the tunnels were Heart Demons playing their pranks. Only by diving into the heart of darkness would there be an opportunity to see the light. If he needed further proof, Ogras would only need to open his Dao Screen.
Ogras flew into Zac’s shadows. Thanks to his breakthrough, holding onto his shade form inside Zac’s domain wasn’t as strenuous as before. Ogras doubted he’d ever get used to the naked feeling of having his connection to the Heavens weakened to a whisper. However, it did reject all Dao, good and bad, and it drastically lessened the danger from the sanctum’s insane energy levels.
‘Everything okay?’
‘All good,’ Ogras said, hiding his surprise and relief. Things might not be quite as bad as they looked if Zac was still able to communicate. ‘We managed to copy all the surviving parts of the Heritage. I took the originals before sending the merchant on his way. He had an escape prepared.’
‘Perfect, thank you. Is the domain holding? Have any exits opened to outside—our outside?’
‘Not that I could see, and the cave is about to get flooded by the mountain’s lifeblood. We’ll have to ride out the storm or open an exit ourselves,’ Ogras said. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘The [Eclipse Twin] keeps expelling energy to stabilize its spatial folds. If you can help me weaken the parts made from Dao, I’ll deal with the rest.’
‘I’ll do what I can,’ Ogras promised, unable to hold back the question rattling in his mind. ‘Uh, do you have an exit strategy?’
A hesitant answer came after an uncomfortably long silence. ‘There’s more energy in the flower than I expected. I’ve only dealt with the appetizer, but my actions are already draining surprising amounts of Faith. We might get ejected when the domain collapses. If not, I’ll have to get creative.’
A helpless smile spread across Ogras’s face as he peered at Zac from the false safety of the Grey World. When did he start to take comfort in such foolhardiness? As much as some things stayed the same, others were clearly subject to change.