Dark clouds of uncertainty surrounded Zac and the Grand Elders as they individually grappled with the idea of being targeted by an ancient evil like Mox. Having avoided being marked by Mox’s Karma provided some comfort, although Zac understood there were no guarantees with beings like Jalach and Mox. He felt like she could pop out at any moment.
The sooner he could leave the memory domain, the better.
The elders were equally anxious to make arrangements, knowing the murders were part of a larger plot. Zac tried and failed to gather any further information from Maseya before she rushed off. She was unwilling to share anything else about her time in the Hollow Courts or transcribe [Ancients]. She said he could see for himself after going there.
Litheweave invited Zac to stay for another month to meet the Grand Matron when she returned. Zac rejected the offer without hesitation, using Mox’s looming threat as an excuse to get going sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the elder was unwilling to see Zac go right away. The situation with Ching’Ru was wrapped up, but there could be lingering threats that only he could solve.
The Grand Elder relented after some back and forth, agreeing to send Zac and his companions on their way first thing the next morning. The other guests would have to stay a while longer to give the Nameless Blades time to look for traces of Mox. Zac had Mei’Er lead him out of the forest, where Ogras and Ventus waited.
Zac didn’t comment on their slightly unstable auras. Something must have happened when he leaped into the realmgate, but it was safer covering all the sensitive topics outside the domain. “It’s done. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
The three had a short discussion through telepathy, deciding to split up and look for benefits. Zac didn’t mention anything about what happened or Mox, afraid that excessively mentioning her name would put him at greater risk. Ogras gave Zac a suggestive look before leaving with Ventus, leaving Zac alone with Mei’Er.
“Mei’Er would be honored to host Lord Atwood once more,” Mei’Er said.
“Then I’ll be in Miss Mei’Er’s care,” Zac agreed.
Litheweave must have given the chef specific instructions. The dishes were full of ingredients that worked wonders on Zac’s soul. The D-grade dishes exceeded normal soul-nourishing pills and held almost no impurities. That wasn’t to say that the Dao of Cooking surpassed the Dao of Alchemy. An alchemist could have made dozens of pills with the ingredients that went into Zac’s stomach.
Speaking of the Grand Elder, he appeared to bring Zac away in the middle of the night. Initially worried, Zac relaxed upon seeing they weren’t heading toward the forest. He’d been afraid Litheweave wanted to see the hidden spatial pocket with his own eyes, and Zac was definitely not up for another plunge into that golden sphere.
Instead, Litheweave brought Zac to a dignified pavilion to make good on his promises. Both elders and Core Disciples were sworn to secrecy while holding a lacquered token emblazoned with a red pavilion surrounded by a golden haze. Its Imperial Fate exceeded his Wendimar token’s, and Zac saw that it flickered every time someone made their oath.
With that out of the way, Litheweave borrowed Zac’s veteran token. The elder performed a complex series of gestures to transfer a good chunk of the sect relic’s Imperial Fate. The scene was very familiar to what happened to the identity seal on Zac’s left hand, and a few leading questions confirmed Zac’s hunch. The Imperial Fate wasn’t transferred along with the promised sect contribution; it was the contribution.
The elder took Zac’s questions in stride, showing no surprise at Zac’s ignorance as he patiently explained. The Limitless Empire had three levels of merit. Basic merit was similar to the arrangement Zac had back in the Atwood Empire and the type of contribution he accumulated when assisting the Limitless Army repel the beast tide.
Such merit lacked intrinsic value. Atwood Empire Contribution Points would become worthless if his empire collapsed or went bankrupt. The Limitless Empire’s currency fared no better. The amount of unsettled merit that vanished when the empire fell was probably enough to raise multiple Supremacies. The only merit points that somewhat guaranteed value were those doled out by the System.
While basic merit was useful even for the empire’s high-grade subjects, it wasn’t something that could provide access to the Hollow Court or its ruler. Zac was being bestowed the Limitless Empire’s second level of contribution—Imperial Merit, essentially stored Imperial Fate. This wasn’t something commonly known or used, even among decorated veterans like Tam Brooks.
The Limitless Empire clearly had unique ways to accelerate the growth of their Imperial Fate, but generating Destiny was still a matter requiring great time and effort. Not to mention, only a fraction would stay to become Imperial Merit. Most of it would be absorbed by the empire. The small amount of Imperial Fate held in the Wendimar Seal was the result of generations of effort and sacrifice, and the same was true for Litheweave’s seal.
Imperial Merit’s value didn’t solely come from its scarcity and the doors it could open. One didn’t even have to exchange Imperial Merit to benefit from it. The more Destiny you wielded, the greater your fortunes. Maseya had looked so pained because they were literally transferring their sect’s prospects. It would take them generations of effort to replenish what they lost. Although, reporting the Mox sighting should recover some of what was lost.
In other words, the trial used the Limitless Empire’s established contribution system. Zac and the other trial takers were contributing to the cause and were awarded Imperial Fate. They were essentially accumulating enough merit to provide passage to the real opportunities waiting in the Outer Courts and Left Imperial Palace.
That wasn’t to say the trial takers were playing by the same rules as the cultivators of old. The memory domains held specific events directly connected to the Fifth Pillar. They represented the greatest instances of missed potential, where the right actions could generate astounding levels of Imperial Fate. Autarchs would struggle to accumulate as much Imperial Merit as he had.
While illuminating, it put Zac in a spot. He was targeting two Outer Courts, three if he had time to head to the Anima Courts after helping Esmeralda. There was also the Left Imperial Palace and the Flameseeking Trial within. He’d have to accumulate a fortune if each court required an offering of Imperial Merit.
Finally, the Limitless Empire had an exceedingly rare form of merit. It was the Limitless Merit stored in the Wendimar Token. It required extraordinary contribution, and it could be bestowed by fewer than a hundred people across the whole empire. More than eighty generations of Wendimar Clan Heads had held onto their sole Limitless Merit to ensure it wasn’t wasted.
Litheweave waved his hand over the veteran token, prompting its aura to return to before. “A veteran token with such a great amount of merit would raise questions. This way, you can continue your journey to the Hollow Courts unencumbered. The seal will automatically break when inspected by a Celestial.”
Zac nodded in thanks. Litheweave was right. He’d mainly used his veteran persona for covert operations, and having his token glow with Imperial Fate would make it impossible to use. Zac spent the next thirty minutes answering follow-up questions before Litheweave led him back to Mei’Er’s bamboo forest.
The domain was noticeably more washed out by the time Zac returned to Mei’Er’s side. The Imperial Faith seeping out of the ground was likely traces left from the real Joyful Gardens, and it wasn’t unlimited.
Zac spent the last hours discussing the Dao of Life with Mei’Er on her veranda. Seeing the beautiful garden slowly fade felt like waking up from a dream. Time marched on relentlessly, and the agreed-upon time was almost there. Mei’Er opened and closed her mouth a few times before broaching the subject they’d consciously avoided.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
“Has Lord Atwood ever considered ending his pilgrimage and settling down?”
Zac sighed and shook his head. He respected Mei’er too much to give her empty promises or half-truths. “I’m afraid that’s not in my cards. I didn’t pick the Dao of Conflict—it picked me. It will follow me wherever I go, and there are still matters I have to accomplish. Hopefully, I’ll meet someone like Mei’Er in my next life.”
Mei’Er’s eyes briefly dimmed before her gentle smile returned. “Mei’Er will bring you back.”
Zac gently nodded, taking a last look at the secluded pavilion before disappearing among the swaying shoots. Their light conversation wasn’t enough to stave off the air of melancholy. Zac was surprised at how close he’d gotten to Mei’Er over the past week. Their complementary Daos had created a natural affinity that was deepened through Mei’Er’s musical talent. It was truly regrettable he’d never see her again.
His despondency didn’t just come from parting with the beautiful courtesan. Zac was mourning the loss of a life he never had. His earlier comment wasn’t just perfunctory. Zac would have loved settling down in a place like the Joyful Gardens if circumstances were different. His progress would probably ground to a halt, but so what?
A Late Hegemon could live for dozens of millennia so long as their foundations weren’t damaged. That was more than enough to live a rich, fulfilling life. Enough to watch generations of descendants grow and flourish, to experience more ups and downs than Zac could comprehend at his current age. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Zac knew he’d never know such peace before reaching the top. At best, he could hope for moments of respite before he was dragged into the storm.
No, it wasn’t entirely true. As much as the winds of fate were pulling him forward, he was a willing participant in the war over Heaven’s Providence. This was the path he’d chosen, gambling everything in hopes of overturning fate and seizing the power to accomplish his goals.
Zac felt his Heart going through a final round of cleansing. It was like polished jade by the time they met up with Litheweave and a few other elders in the public area. Zac felt refreshed and focused on the future. Ogras and a rosy-cheeked Ventus arrived shortly after, accompanied by a group of Pavilion courtesans wearing the fine robes of Inner Disciples.
“Just basking in your glory,” Ogras grinned at Zac’s raised brow.
Seeing the trio personally being led toward the exit by multiple elders and high-ranking disciples caused a stir among the other patrons. The most surprised was the young man standing at the front. It was Patroso, who struggled to reconcile his temporary drinking buddies with esteemed guests deserving such treatment. On a spur, Zac walked over.
“Thank you for your hospitality over these past days. We’ll make sure to visit the next time we’re in the Freydrift Province,” Zac said with a smile. “Though it might be a while. It’s not often we’re able to travel in a personal capacity.”
Patroso’s eyes lit up, and he quickly bowed. “I’ll hold brother to his promise. It was an honor making your acquaintance.”
Zac nodded and continued toward the gate. It didn’t take long before curious guests surrounded Patroso. Ogras had mentioned that Patroso encountered setbacks in his plan to find influential supporters. Zac had a feeling Patroso’s fortunes were about to turn for the better. A few words from the right person was all it took to change destiny.
“I’ll see you in the next life, Lord Atwood,” Mei’Er said after stopping outside their gates.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Zac smiled and stepped into the present. The domain had served its purpose, and the lingering intent relinquished its hold on the past. The Joyful Gardens would live on as a blissful dream.
Zac watched as the memory domain shattered into golden starlight, his breath quickening when its glimmering motes gained an otherworldly aura. They grew stronger and stronger as they fell like snowflakes. The amount of Imperial Fate was astounding, and the Left Imperial Expanse welcomed it like summer’s rain.
A handful of motes veered off from the others, entering the seal on Zac’s left hand. The amount far exceeded Litheweave’s gift and surpassed Dipper Seven’s boost by a significant margin. Altogether, his accumulated Fate had more than doubled. Zac wasn’t the only one benefitting, either. Ogras was awarded two motes and Ventus one despite playing minor roles.
Both were observing their seals with interest when the ground began to shake. The Numerologist looked down in thought and brought out his abacus.
“The veins are realigning to bolster the Nexus Vein. The corruption will probably be routed.”
“Sounds messy. Should we make a break for it?” Ogras suggested.
Zac looked to the elf for suggestions.
“We’ll be safer if we wait a day. Things should calm down after the Nexus Vein has absorbed the domain’s residuals.”
“Then let’s wait for a day. I could use the break,” Zac readily agreed.
“I guess we’re all spent after our triumphant exit,” Ogras grinned.
‘Is everything okay?’ the demon asked in a telepathic message, his tone a complete opposite.
‘Some damage to my soul, and my Dao Heart took a beating. It’s nothing serious, but I don’t mind another day or rest before pushing through the corruption.’
“I’ll arrange a place to rest,” Ventus offered and walked away, clearly understanding the two had matters to discuss. He never asked for clarification of what happened inside the Forest of Unbounded Spirits, adhering to their unspoken agreement. The elf’s goal was to survive the trial, not dig into its secrets. The less he knew, the safer he’d be.
“Did anything happen on your end?” Zac said after they were isolated.
“Not nothing much. We saw the signs when the domain weakened. The Nameless Blades managed to capture us all the same. Luckily, they stopped at a thrashing before new orders came down,” Ogras shrugged.
“I ended up getting a promotion a few hours later. I’m no longer a lowly Copper Blade. My new status might become handy down the road. With you leading the way, I might become a Golden Blade before we’ve reached the Hollow Courts.” the demon said. “But forget that, catch me up to speed. I’m guessing the situation wasn’t as simple as it seemed?”
“When is it ever?” Zac wryly said before recounting what happened.
“I guess a creature like that would have to be involved for the rewards to be so generous,” Ogras sighed, looking at where the domain stood with a conflicted expression. “The Heavens have no eyes. It’s an injustice for such a paradise to become a sacrificial offering.”
“I’m not sure that’s what happened,” Zac said. He’d had the whole night to mull things over. “Remember, Ventus never calculated any signs of impending mass casualties like in Dipper Seven. I think Mox was playing a long game, setting the stage for a massive play when the moment was right.”
“The activation,” Ogras said in realization.
“Exactly,” Zac nodded. “Neither the Nine Gardens nor the Limitless Empire are easy targets. They don’t seem like her usual prey. But they must’ve had their hands full when activating the pillar. I think Mox planned on using Ching’Ru to open a back door in the Dao of Life’s blind spot. Then, she just needed to wait. She’d pop in when the Realmlord had its hands full with keeping the bridge stable.”
“I doubt she was the only one with such a plan. Few are as stupid as Antuka,” Ogras sneered. “The clever vultures waited for the wounded barghest to topple over.”
Zac was thinking the same thing. Jalach was probably already lurking somewhere on the Left Imperial Expanse when the Beseechment Pavilion tried to call on their God. Whether getting summoned was part of a plan to snatch the [Epiclesis Bell] or an accident was hard to say. Jalach may have won that battle, but it had been a pyrrhic victory that cost him most of his body.
“Either case, this Mox is bad news. Simply exposing her early caused such a significant boost,” Ogras continued.
“I think we’ve caught onto one of the Hollow Court’s central threads,” Zac said.
History didn’t care what dangers Zac faced or what benefits he reaped. The production of Imperial Fate was based on impact and how much their actions benefitted the empire’s undertaking. Hidden Earth’s inheritance was a niche method with limited application. While the experience was valuable to Zac, what he accomplished in the Joyful Gardens was far more impactful for the Hollow Court.
“I wonder if that thing’s still hanging on. Perhaps she’s lurking above the continent with the other old things,” the demon muttered. “Would such an existence notice if we meddled with memories related to her? Could she have sent something out like the Threaded Lord?”
“I don’t think so. I only encountered a weak sliver of her power. The memory domain never generated her true self,” Zac said. “Besides, the Threaded Lord should have been an exception. We stumbled onto his memory through a back door. I think any entity appearing as intended is bound by the Fifth Pillar and the trial’s rules.”
“Taking things for granted is a recipe for disaster when ancient monsters are involved. Even if you’re right, the trial’s memory Mox should be aware of you by now. We still don’t understand the extent and nature of her power. What if she can curse you to death with a thought?”
“I’d be dead already if that were the case,” Zac said.
“Still, those elders might be onto something. We could skip the rest of the memory domains until we reach the Hollow Court, just to be safe,” the demon said. “We’ve already accomplished a lot on the outside. A good gambler quits while they’re ahead.”
Zac looked at his half-filled seal in thought. Ogras was certainly right. They’d accomplished a lot, and his gains already exceeded his expectations. Their haul was more than satisfactory for the first stage of the trial. However, the generous rewards made him all the more reluctant to stop halfway. They were still months from the Hollow Court, and the memory domains would get better and better.
Factoring in the Imperial Fate, could they even afford to stop? Unsure what to do, Zac decided to turn to his elders for their wisdom.
“Let me see what Esmeralda thinks. She might be an old enemy of Mox, or at least know how to avoid her.”