Defiance of the Fall

Zac’s first thought was he’d been dropped off inside a mirage drawing inspiration from his memories. However, Zac’s heart told him that the startled duo wasn’t the work of an illusion. The faded forest of Tam’s memory had given way to a world shrouded in darkness. The region had an unmistakably ominous atmosphere, though Zac would take implied threat over the overt danger of the Nature-attuned storm.

It didn’t match anything from Tom’s scattered memories or any information he’d gathered elsewhere. It almost felt like he’d arrived in the Grey World, the Lower Plane that some of Ogras’ heritage was based on. Everything was cast from shadows, from the ground to the sparse growth dotting the rocky geography.

Their source seemed to be the dense clouds high in the sky. They were clearly out of the norm, not lacking in might compared to the Nature-attuned storm. Thankfully, they kept most of it to themselves. Instead of ravaging the lands, they released a sparse trickle of anthracite rain.

The environment was redrawn wherever a raindrop fell. Brushes or saplings would appear out of nowhere, and the shape of outcroppings could drastically change. Each drop contained enough strength to match one of Zac’s skills and a lofty piece of Taiji’s Dao. It, thankfully, wasn’t very difficult to avoid getting hit. Less than five drops would fall within his Soul Sense at any given moment.

It was exactly the kind of place Zac would expect to run into Ogras, and he quickly exchanged the customary questions through telepathy to confirm his identity. The generally suspicious demon was surprisingly ready to accept Zac’s sudden appearance. He grinned and put away his spear.

“Finally, someone useful. I’m tired of carrying all the weight around here.”

The comment made Ventus lower his makeshift shield. He turned to Ogras with the expression of a spurned lover. “Carrying all the weight? This is all thanks to me! I said we’d find what you needed here. I never claimed it would be a treasure.”

“Telling a shadow cultivator they’ll find something good inside a shaderealm? What’s next? I’ll encounter a powerful enemy somewhere in this trial?” Ogras scoffed.

Zac wasn’t convinced their meeting was thanks to Ventus’s Numerology, either. There was no mistaking the absolute confusion in the elf’s eyes when he appeared. More likely, the reunion was thanks to Roan. The Earth Child had said the Sylphid would guide him, and Zac had been too preoccupied with other matters to ask where. He’d simply assumed it was to the Hollow Court since it flew in its general direction.

“It’s nice to see you two. Let’s change location before we catch up. Last time I popped out of a memory, I almost got eaten by a Monarch,” Zac said.

“That sounds about right,” Ogras laughed before giving Ventus a less friendly look. “Well, elf. Rattle those beads of yours and find a safe spot out of this netherblasted rain.”

Ventus rolled his eyes and adjusted the abacus’s arrangement. “This way.”

Zac glanced at the unusual Spirit Tool as they moved out. It wasn’t the same one the Radiant Temple Numerologist used when they first met in the Twilight Ocean. The old abacus had been beautifully crafted with stone beads had looked like stars. Its replacement was a clear step down, at least from an aesthetic perspective.

It was simple and less attuned to Ventus’s Dao, being made from solid wood that didn’t emit any particular Dao. The beads had been covered in small arrays to make up for the material’s lacking affinity with the Dao of Stars. The only thing that stood out was its air of antiquity.

“It’s a loan from my, eh, sponsors,” Ventus explained upon seeing Zac’s glance. “It’s made from a monastery’s floorboards. The lingering aura makes it safer to perform calculations on this continent.”

“Hm,” Zac grunted, understanding that the elf had shared the information to underscore his value.

Zac didn’t have time to temper the Numerologist’s worries. A shimmer of light lit up the gloom when Tam’s memory lantern emerged from Zac’s chest. It didn’t transform into a bust of the veteran. Instead, it turned into an unstable flux of images. One moment, it was a veteran’s badge; the next, it became a copy of the Fertile Earth Seal currently in Zac’s ring.

Finally, it took the shape of a simple gravestone and stayed that way until dispersing into streams of faith that seeped into the ground. The effect was much stronger than Terea’s, to the point the surrounding gloom was briefly pushed back. Thankfully, there were no surprises about the most important part. One sliver entered Zac’s hand to fill up the second slot of his Flamebearer identity seal.

Zac looked at the addition with interest. It didn’t emit the aura he’d expected. Terea’s identity was a mix of her path and the aura of the Left Imperial Palace. Zac had never questioned this aspect. He was a Flamebearer with a seal of the Left Imperial Palace—of course it would emit that aura. Tam’s seal did not.

Its flavor was a mix of what Tam’s lantern conveyed and the holiness of the transformed Roan. Hidden beneath, Zac could vaguely sense the vast presence of the Left Imperial Expanse. It was like the identity represented both Tam and Roan. Was it the result of Zac rewriting history?

There was no way to tell how Tam would have acted in the new timeline. Terea’s apparition had looked more powerful thanks to Zac expediting her breakthrough. Would Tam have returned to his post as a simple guardsman? Zac didn’t think so. Tam had been like a boat adrift at sea. Saving the Earth Child might have rekindled his fire.

He could have used the token to join the Order of Fertile Earth, which would explain the intense faith radiating from the brand.

“You never do things the normal way, huh?”

Zac smiled at the demon’s contorted face full of unspoken questions. “I guess.”

“All I got after working myself to the bone for that bastard was a derisive snort,” Ogras complained while waving his Skybreaker Seal.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m not sure if this is a good thing,” Zac offered.

“I’m sorry to interject,” Ventus said, pointing at a large tree ahead. “There should be a sanctuary beneath its roots.”

Ogras sent out a shadow to confirm the Numerologist’s deduction before moving all three into a surprisingly large space twenty meters underground. It looked like the roots had grown around a large boulder. Later, the stone had somehow disappeared, creating a hollow that made for a great hideout. 𝖗𝘼NǒBΕ𝒮

“Give me a moment,” Zac said before moving to a corner.

Zac could tell the two were full of questions, but he needed to sort things out while the memories were fresh. His new Dao insights had expanded his understanding of Life and Death, taking them beyond the lifecycle one saw in nature. Life could give birth to anything, even memories. Consequently, Death could take them away.

The life and death of the memory realm was only an example hinting at a greater truth. The concepts of Evolution and Inexorability could be elevated to encompass all creation. Those at the peak could explain everything beneath the Heavens with their Dao. It was the road of Authority.

Even so, relaxing his narrow focus was a double-edged sword. A broad Dao would become a weak Dao if its increased scope didn’t also add to its depth. Zac felt the everchanging worlds hiding inside his Dao Apparitions and compared it to the Transcender’s ultimate attack. Zac had to admit, the world he’d seen was more lifelike than what existed in his mind.

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This was a direction he needed to explore further. Zac was still nowhere near ready to upgrade his Daos. The epiphany was but the first step toward clarity. Then again, the first step was often the hardest. Zac was extremely satisfied with the harvest from his second memory lantern, even if it hadn’t provided direct benefits like Terea’s treasures or the Zenith Elixir.

The only cloud on the horizon was the memory’s ominous end. It went beyond the Earth Spirit’s uncomfortable level of insight. What happened inside Tam’s memory broke the rules Zac thought governed the trial. The world in the original timeline had critical differences that didn’t originate from Zac.

It was the original Roan’s death that turned the area into blessed ground, which in turn gathered the necessary Faith Energy for his transformation. The tribulation wasn’t a part of the simulation. It descended because of the temporal paradox, and Zac had become an unwitting tool for it all. He wasn’t convinced the ramifications were limited to changing the “world’s memory.”

Zac felt like a puppet being moved across the Left Imperial Expanse, and he couldn’t tell who was pulling the strings. Thankfully, he didn’t need to grapple with these issues by himself.

“All done?” Ogras asked when Zac walked over.

“For now,” Zac nodded.

“I see that you’ve already stepped into Late Hegemony, Lord Atwood. Your constant efforts bring the rest of us to shame,” Ventus said with an obsequious smile. “I pray my deductions served you well?”

“It’s good to see you, too. And they did,” Zac said with a raised brow.

The comprehensive set of instructions to move the Atwood Empire’s battlefronts to the Imperial Graveyard’s edge had made their life a lot easier. Without them, Zac would have been forced to rely on the Undead Empire for passage. Having learned of Kator’s plot and the Autarchs hiding inside the Epiclesis Bell, it might have saved all their lives.

“Then, our agreement?” the elf asked.

“You’re welcome to travel with us as long as you want. I’ll do my best to keep you safe while you’re with me,” Zac promised.

Zac would have invited Ventus even if it wasn’t part of their deal. The Numerologist might not be as useful as Esmeralda, but having his calculations was certainly better than facing the continent’s dangers blind. Ventus wasn’t someone Zac would have to babysit, either. They’d fought to a draw during the Twilight Ascent, and the elf performed extremely well in the Perennial Vastness.

Ventus was currently at Middle Hegemony, and he would have received focused nurturing after becoming a sealbearer. He wouldn’t drag him and Ogras down in a fight, though the elf’s aura felt somewhat hollow. It was likely the result of peering into Heaven’s secrets.

“Your current state? Backlash?” Zac asked to confirm.

“It is. I’m gradually recovering. It’s a slow process. I’m unlikely to get back to perfect condition during the trial.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Certain Natural Treasures and springs can alleviate the backlash, but they’re extremely rare,” Ventus sighed. “Borrowing from the Heavens to perform calculations breaks the Cosmic Laws. You’d need something at the same level to undo the harm.”

Law-imbued soul-nurturing treasures? Forget it. Zac had only found one Law-imbued item since the trial began, and the copper vein couldn’t do anything for Ventus. Law-imbued treasures could only be found by chance. And if they actually found one, Zac believed they were better used on himself than on Ventus. Since he was unwilling to promise anything related to recovery, Zac changed the subject.

“How did the two of you meet without any trackers?”

“The guy just popped out right behind me a few weeks back,” Ogras shrugged. “Been carrying this deadweight since.”

“You might not have died without me, but you definitely would have been in a sorrier state,” Ventus scoffed. “Not to mention poorer.”

“Did you calculate which lantern to pick?” Zac asked.

“Not quite. I entered the trial with only two pieces of my seal. Those in a similar situation were sent to a communal memory for a final opportunity,” Ventus sighed.

“What kind of opportunity?”

“We failed in proving ourselves during the intersector war, so we were sent to another one for a final opportunity. We became part of the vanguard that conquered the Left Imperial Expanse. It was quite dangerous, but not without certain advantages. So long as we showcased our talents and took on the right missions, we could control what part of the mainland we’d get sent to,” the elf explained.

“After two years of struggle and calculations, I left for the Left Imperial Expanse in a way that had the greatest odds of making our paths cross.”

“What, two years? It’s barely been two months here,” Zac exclaimed. “And how did you get ahead of me if you only appeared on the main continent a few weeks ago? Are there teleporters I don’t know about?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Ventus said. “There’s certainly a decent amount of randomness involved—how lucky you are and what memory you picked upon entry. However, you Flamebearers might have started closer to the middle because you lack affinity with any of the lower courts.”

“That’d explain how I keep running into people.”

“We have to be careful. I believe the System limits how close to the courts trial takers may spawn, but we’re not necessarily at the front of the pack,” the elf cautioned.

“So what? That’s an opportunity now that we have this brute on our side!” Ogras laughed. “The odds of running into another Flamebearer should be low. More likely, we’ll stumble onto one of the many rich young masters who’ve been thrown onto this continent. They will all be saddled with wealth we couldn’t dream of getting back home.”

Zac could see the greedy flames smoldering in the demon’s eyes. “We can’t underestimate anyone. I almost got my ass handed to me by a Skybreaker last week.”

“How’s that possible? Did you run into a sibling of that crazy Primordial or something?” Ogras couldn’t believe his ears, while Ventus looked like he’d just realized the ship he boarded was full of leaks. Zac shared his battle with the mysterious Imperials that forced him to flee into the storm.

“You,” Ogras pointed at Ventus. “Get to work. Calculate his origins.”

“No way!” Ventus shook his hands with fear. “If he’s connected with the continent’s fate like Lord Atwood said, it’d be no different than spying on the hidden rules of the trial. The backlash will reduce me into a pile of ash.”

“Useless,” Ogras spat. “You think he might be part of the Heavens?”

“I don’t think so.” Zac shook his head. “His faith was very different to the Imperial Qi I saw on Yselio Tobrial. I’m more inclined to believe they were part of the real Limitless Empire.”

“You mean some holdouts who’ve stayed hidden until now?” Ogras slowly nodded in thought.

Ventus interjected before Zac could put forth his theory about the Pesvati Rift. “That’s not possible. The Limitless Empire was completely eradicated back then.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ogras scoffed. “Just look at this place. Those madmen turned this whole continent into an array disk, and I hear there are seven more like it. I can’t even imagine how large the empire was at the height of its glory. You’re telling me not a single one survived the purge? Just look at the Imperial Families of today. Didn’t they come out stronger than ever?”

“It’s not that simple,” Ventus said. “The Limitless Empire’s fall after the System’s birth wasn’t a simple war of vengeance. They were punished by the Cosmos. Emperor Limitless created something that shouldn’t exist. As a result, the river of fate flooded his cities and drowned his people. The Karmic backlash targeted every single citizen.

“My master said that great taboos surround the Limitless Empire to this day,” the elf continued with fear on his face. “Don’t you think there’s been people hoping to resurrect the Limitless Empire? How do you think it was in the earliest days of the System? Wouldn’t anyone have raised their banner after the Dark Ages ended?”

“These attempts all failed because of the backlash?” Zac surmised.

“Exactly,” Ventus said. “The name is like a magnet for misfortune. Any attempt at revivification is doomed to fail, and the System is either powerless or unwilling to intercede. The Imperial Heavens survived precisely because they completely severed ties with the Limitless Empire.”

Ventus’s explanation made a lot of sense. Like he said, you only needed to consider the matter logically. One million years was a long time, especially for the universe to be drained of spirituality. Even so, multiple Draugr Supremacies survived the Dark Ages, and they used their Heavenly Territories to shield generations of descendants. Except for some losses to their heritage, the Draugr Race emerged on the other end in one piece.

Draugr might have been better positioned to survive the tribulation than most. Still, they were by no means the only survivors. The Technocrats managed to weather the storm, too. There was no reasonable explanation for not one of the Limitless Empire’s colonies or leaders surviving the Dark Ages.

The common narrative was that the empire’s upper echelon, including the emperor himself, was absorbed by the System. With their borders suddenly unguarded, the empire became an unguarded treasure trove. Wouldn’t there at least have been one Supremacy sent out on a mission or stationed far away from the front lines?

It was possible that all Supremacies marked by Imperial Fate were consumed, no matter their location. Still, did not one of them hide inside an Eternal Heritage? They were built to provide asylum during an Era’s collapse. Surely, they could elude a cosmic backlash. Like Ventus argued, there had to be more reasons why only ruins remained of such a great empire.

Suddenly, multiple pieces of information coalesced into a theory that refused to go away. Rekindling faith, rewriting history, and ancient taboos. Could this be what the ritual was for—to wash away the sin of its existence?

Was the Limitless Empire trying to emerge from the annals of history?