Defiance of the Fall

Chapter 1178: Echelon Class



Zac nodded, feeling the knot in his heart loosen. He initially had no plans to take Max as a disciple, and the young swordsman’s strength, frankly, wasn’t impressive enough to warrant it. His affinities had clearly risen compared to his human counterpart, thanks to the special attention that went into his awakening. It was still only at the level of an elite, a noticeable gap from people such as Vilari and the Echelon Class.

Reaching Hegemony was up to fate, and rising above would depend on the unique bond he’d formed with his Spirit Tool. Or perhaps, it was more accurate to call it a Soul Sword now. The nascent spirit in the sword Zac gave Max after returning from the Orom World had somehow fused with Max’s original soul. The sword was now closer to [Love’s Bond] than a normal Spirit Tool.

Max’s connection with the sword might be even stronger despite the spirituality still being weak. There was some sort of unique entanglement happening. Zac had no idea what would come of it. Perhaps it was a blessing; perhaps it was a dead end. However, he saw an echo of his situation in Max. With their Karmic entanglement already there, Zac felt it made sense to take him as a disciple.

Or was Zac just seeing what he wanted to see?

“You have been nourishing your blade with the latent energy of the Sword Plateau. However, the effect is limited, and the sword is of average quality. It will not be able to keep up with your advancement as things stand. I have better swords—”

“I’d like to keep using [Second Wind]!” Max said with dogged determination, though the young Revenant failed to hide the panic in his eyes.

Zac was gratified yet worried, his thoughts returning to Vivi. What would happen if the sword snapped? Max’s dependence on [Second Wind] was far greater, to the point his soul might as well live and die with the blade. Would he even survive its destruction?

“What if you face a strong enemy like me? Taking [Second Wind] into the battlefield will only harm you both.”

“I’ll find a better way to make it stronger!”

Zac slowly nodded. “Let me take a look at it.”

Max was hesitant, but he still handed back the shortsword. Zac scanned the Spirit Tool for over ten minutes, comparing it with the materials available in his spatial ring. Its grade was low, and the materials that went into its creation were ordinary. The craftsmanship was solid, at least. Giving it a boost with [Cosmic Forge] was child’s play.

“There is currently a mismatch. The spirit you’re nurturing is marked by death, something that the materials that went into [Second Wind] lack. How about I strengthen its spiritual nature and infuse the Dao of Death?” Zac said. “It will deepen [Second Wind] ‘s foundations and make its transition into E-grade smoother. Of course, you will still have to figure out the way to nourish the blade and its spirit yourself.”

“I will, thank you, Master!” Max said with excitement.

Zac nodded, and dozens of attuned materials flew out of his Spatial Ring to form a constellation around him. The Omnitool came next, and Zac began the delicate process of extracting heterogenic strings of from the weapon before weaving in an intricate pattern of Death and Conflict. Crafting Dual-attunement equipment was much harder than just sticking to one Dao, but Zac could craft this particular combination in his sleep. It was essentially his Inexorable Path, with some minor alterations to remove any connection with axes while reinforcing the budding Dao of Sword the Soul Sword already held.

Layer after layer was added with pinpoint precision. Zac’s skill in [Cosmic Forge] had reached new heights after three months of diligent preparation. Zac still wasn’t at the level where he could complete the quest to unlock [Essence Union]. Still, there were noticeable improvements to his control over the fragile tendrils of essence compared to his time in the Perennial Vastness.

The newfound ability didn’t just come from practicing the method during any breather he had. Much had happened in the ten months since he emerged from Sendor’s domain. He’d elevated both constitutions, moving them closer to the Daos of his path. His Daos had also broken through, becoming Late Branches.

He’d even touched upon the Four Laws and the One Destiny when using the Tribulation Throne, an experience that couldn’t be compared to the illusory hints he’d witnessed atop Mount Illumination. With deeper foundations, progress came easy. At least when dealing with refinement connected to his path.

The upgrade only took an hour, at which point Zac had infused one and a half cycles into the sword. It wasn’t its limit, but Zac felt it better to leave some room. The more spirituality he infused, the more it would mirror his path. Max should be the one who decided the sword’s direction. Besides, gathering the materials to upgrade your equipment was a fundamental aspect of cultivation. It would just harm his progress if Zac just handed everything to him from the get-go.

“This should let you go a bit further,” Zac said as he handed over the sword.

Max lovingly looked at the blade, which had gained a darker hue while its inscribed edge emitted a cold sharpness.

“This is my first gift as your master. My second gift is an opportunity,” Zac continued. “There is a Dao Repository in the Atwood Academy in the capital, and there is a sword inheritance inside. If there’s anyone in my Empire who knows how to nurture a sword and its spirit, it’s the Blade Emperor.

“However, nothing in this world comes for free, even if you’re my disciple. Only seven individuals in the Empire can accept the inheritances of the Towers of Myriad Dao. Half the slots are already taken. You currently have a Late Seed of Sharpness and an Early Seed of Hardness. Form a Fragment of the Sword aligned with your path within six months, and the opportunity is yours.”

He’d expected reopening the doors to Irei’s inheritance to dredge up some unwelcome memories, but his heart remained calm. Instead, he recalled those days when he sat under a tree, pondering on his path while Thea swung her sword in the yard. Those tranquil years between the Integration’s end and Leandra’s return felt like a distant dream most days, but they suddenly felt very real. It was bittersweet.

“Blade Emperor…” Max intoned, nodding with determination. “I’ll work hard and prove myself worthy! Master, could I join the Military Camps? That way, I can visit the battlefields and gain experience.”

“Don’t be too eager to step onto that stage. There are other ways to accumulate experience and comprehension,” Zac rejected. “Your predecessor made the ultimate sacrifice. Don’t let his gift be in vain. You walk the path of the sword—you’ll see enough bloodshed in your life whether you want to or not. For now, come with me. I’m speaking before the Echelon Class, and you should listen in.”

Zac grabbed Max’s shoulder and took him away from the Sword Plateau. The two appeared before the doors leading into a small auditorium, with Pika and a group of lecturers and instructors waiting outside.

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“They’re all assembled,” Pika said. “Is there anything you need from us? We have prepared some activities in case you wish to gauge their progress.”—

“That’s okay,” Zac rejected. “I’ve read the reports; you’re doing great work. I’m just here to see them and share some of my experiences.”

“That’s—Do you think we could…” Pika said, glancing at the eager-looking teachers behind her.

“The more the merrier,” Zac smiled as he pushed open the door.

Zac led a nervous Max inside, and the silence was deafening as sixty-two sets of eyes focused on him. Zac pointed for his disciple to take a seat at the side while the instructors lined up in the back. He didn’t say anything for a minute after taking his place behind a podium, silently taking in the familiar faces and recalling the memories that came along with it.

A trio of humans sat in the front, together in death, just like they were in life. They emitted a dark but stable aura, making Zac think of a tomb that had endured the winds for ages, soaking up the Death and Earth of the cemetery it stood in. They were the believers in Azra who targeted him at the beginning of his visit to the Perennial Vastness. The source of ths content is NovlFir(.)nt

Not that far away sat a reptilian cultivator with a line across the scales of his throat, whose aura almost perfectly blended with the environment. Sendor’s seal had locked away the specifics of the zones he visited during his training, but Zac could still recall the series of events. He’d broken through with his soul, at which point the reptilian tried to ambush him.

He’d found the life-death [Calamity Core] that later became the nucleus for his Cosmic Core, and the three Earth Cultivators had tried to intercept him on his way out. Each face carried a similar story of conflict and struggle at the edge of life and death.

Zac’s eyes shifted to a muscular Revenant resembling a statue. Astara, or Lesindi as she was now called. They’d arrived around the same time, and the spearmaster was the strongest opponent who became attracted by the global notice targeting him.

She’d approached him again after he claimed [Cosmic Forge], proudly declaring she’d be the one to leave her name behind in the end. Zac hadn’t put her proclamation to heart and moved on with his matters. It turned out he’d taken up a much larger place in her heart. His series of explosive achievements became daggers stabbing into her Dao Heart until she couldn’t bear it any longer.

His second run-in with Astara was a full six years after his arrival, making her the second-last guest he killed before forming his core. She’d tracked him down during an outing for resources. What followed was a short but brutal battle where she sought to kill him to disperse the demons that formed in her heart. Now, Lesindi was one of the standouts of the Echelon Class.

Astara’s fate left a bitter taste in Zac’s mouth. She was a rare genius who had managed to nurture both Intent and Technique. With her immense foundations, she had easily climbed to the ninth echelon. For her to fall in the E-grade felt like a huge joke. At the same time, Zac didn’t feel pity. The weakness in her Dao Heart led her down the wrong path, where she tried to murder him solely to reinforce her convictions before breaking through.

The Echelon Class was fully made up of the elites he’d killed inside the Perennial Vastness, except for a handful who’d been dealt with by Catheya and Ogras. Imperial Deathsworn, handpicked by Valsa Planur, carefully nurtured scions from vaunted backgrounds and rare geniuses who had seized a Vastness Token one way or another. Each was a talent that would easily have broken into the Stars of Zecia Ladders were they still alive.

Zac hadn’t spared any expense for their awakening. Catheya had worked on the corpses for years inside the Perennial Vastness, and he used the best available methods and rare treasures to facilitate the transition. Furthermore, the catalyst of their awakening was Zac’s fully awakened Draugr bloodline, which awarded them an even greater affinity with death.

They quickly gained sapience and were put on specialized training programs based on his memories of their talents and the methods he found on their bodies. Boje, who was still relearning his Alchemy by starting at F-grade recipes, provided top-tier medicine to expedite their growth.

Like Max, they weren’t strong enough yet to join the war effort. He could tell they were all at Peak F-grade, currently in the stage of building sturdy enough foundations to target Hegemony and beyond.

The former Heaven’s Chosen silently looked back at Zac with emotions ranging from veneration to fear. Pika, Vilari, and Rhuger all believed that explaining their origin was for the best. Their unique composition of races, some of which didn’t exist in Zecia, would quickly expose that they weren’t like the other newly-raised Revenants of the Atwood Empire.

Zac felt odd coming face-to-face with a roomful of people who’d tried to kill him before, whose life he’d ended himself. He could only imagine how it felt for these children. If nothing else, the mythos of the dual Emperors of the Atwood Empire had only grown greater during the war. His human persona stood in the limelight when it came to the sector at large, but Arcaz Umbri’Zi was figuratively and literally the founding ancestor of Elysium.

“I’m Arcaz Umbri’Zi,” Zac simply said. “While this is the first time we meet, I have been following your progress from a distance. I’m sure this is all confusing, and I know we’ve pushed you kids hard. I’m sure you’ve understood the reason already. Your talents are extraordinary, and you carry seeds of great potential.

“However, the Atwood Empire doesn’t employ deathsworn. We are at war, but we are far from reaching the point where we need to force children onto the battlefield. Neither is there any grudge between me and you all. It’s true that I’ve fought most of your predecessors, which is why you’re sitting here today. But remember. They are they, and you are you.

“Your predecessors can only give context to your being, but the future is solely in your hands. You can choose a different path than the ones detailed in your inheritances. All of your predecessors were great warriors, but that doesn’t mean you have to follow in their footsteps.

“There are as many roads as there are cultivators, and those who travel the furthest aren’t necessarily the most talented. It’s those who have found their calling, whose conviction and drive let them brave the winds of their long journey. I gathered you here today because I wanted to dispel these doubts and share some pieces of my journey in hopes you can find something similar for yourself.”

Zac began sharing the stories and insights he’d gathered over the years, starting when he was alone and fumbling in the dark on Demon Island. He hid nothing, smiling while retelling some of Emily’s favorite stories that greatly clashed with his current status and renown. Those mistakes and misadventures were his first lessons in the realities of cultivation.

He didn’t speak on the Dao beyond the joy of coming closer to the truths he sought and of the struggles he’d faced when formalizing a path that resonated with the essence of his being. Instead of techniques, skills, or battle, he covered heart, aspirations, and purpose.

Soon enough, Zac was speaking to himself as much as the captive audience. The words just kept flowing. It was a reaffirmation of his path, of why he stood here today, and what he needed to do. By the time Zac finished half an hour later, Zac found more than a few students had the glazed-over, distant gaze of someone swept up in their cultivation and at the cusp of an epiphany.

A few had gone even further, closing their eyes as their auras gave hints of breaking through. The teachers in the back were similarly affected, but they quickly isolated these students with arrays, making sure they wouldn’t be disturbed by or disturb the others. Max was in this group, his eyes shut as he tightly gripped his weapon.

Disappointed looks appeared on many of the remaining students as they furtively glanced at their classmates.

“There’s no point in being jealous of others when it comes to cultivation. We all have our own roads to walk. Today, these children managed to take another step forward. Tomorrow, it might be your turn,” Zac smiled. “What’s important is that you find something you’re passionate about and work hard at reaching it.”

The silence stretched for a few seconds before one of the Revenants eagerly raised his hand.

“Uh, Mister Emperor,” the scarred man asked, leaning forward with excitement. “Is it true you have visited many amazing places? Other worlds? What are they like?”

The one asking was once one of Valsa’s deathsworn, and the bubbly youthfulness looked incredibly off on the face of a hardened warrior. It was doubly so for Zac, who remembered his steely demeanor during their desperate deathmatch.

“It’s true,” Zac grinned. “All kinds of places. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. Worlds fully underwater, worlds so hot an F-grade cultivator would turn to ash. Stars holding thousands of worlds inside. I’ve even been swallowed by a fish larger than this whole continent.”

“What, really?!”

Soon, another lecture took place, with the elites of the Echelon Class more resembling a gaggle of schoolchildren who hollered and giggled as Zac shared some more misadventures. It was only an hour later he left the group with a smile. He was already late for the meeting. It was worth it.

His heart felt full, clear, and ready to face Middle Hegemony.


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