Defiance of the Fall

“Hmm?” Auban muttered from the slight tremble transmitted to his fishing rod.

Curious, he moved his lure deeper, only to have it swept away by an unfamiliar undercurrent. Auban glanced at the old continent with helplessness. He’d kept his promise all these years, keeping an eye out so that the pillar didn’t get ejected early. Was this the thanks he got? His neighborhood was thrown into chaos, and a bunch of loud troublemakers showed up at his doorstep.

Most unbearable of all, his fishing spot was ruined by the waves. It was all Auban could do to restrain himself from shifting his string toward one of the old things hiding in the cracks.

“Benefactor, it appears there has been a change?”

Auban looked at the smiling old husk to his left. Among annoying guests, this abomination was best at testing his patience. There were no satisfying ways of dealing with these undying bastards. He might be able to drown Blessed Fate in the waters, but this was just an incarnation. The monk would come out unscathed after saying some prayers, while Auban would have to deal with the Karmic backlash.

There was no lack of unkillable old bastards gathered to watch the show. The problem was that the Sangha were expert instigators. Blessed Fate sitting down next to him could only mean he was suspicious about the Fifth Pillar appearing within his domain. The monk was doing some fishing of his own, treating Auban as a honey hole.

And now, the cat was out of the bag. Only a handful of looky-loos possessed the discernment to notice such a subtle shift in the River of Time, yet this bastard aired the dirty laundry for all to see. As he’d feared, Auban’s head quickly filled up with inquiries from the gaggle of hyenas.

“Something escaped the containment. It directly entered the true continuum and disappeared. I didn’t discover much else,” Auban admitted before deciding to throw some mud. “Complex Karma shrouds the details. A surprising number of monks have fallen already. Did one of your seniors leave Buddha’s side to bring one of them back?”

The Left Imperial Expanse was sealed the moment the brats had entered. The absolute barrier prevented any form of investigation, which made the viewing party a bit uneventful. Auban was no exception. He’d spent months fishing for answers without any luck. However, directly spying on the trial wasn’t the only way to gather information.

The Imperial Tutor would update the private dossier of any trial taker dying inside, which enabled various methods of second-hand confirmation. With a low number of participants and an even lower death count, each update was enough to cause a stir. The most surprising outlier was the unusual number of deaths among the Sangha’s kind.

A single death this early would have been surprising, let alone four. They weren’t the strongest fighters, but Karmic Cultivators were among the hardest to kill. Weren’t the little acolytes able to smell trouble on the inside? It looked like at least one of the little monsters was brazen enough to hunt the baldies.

Could it be his fish? If so, should he try muddying the waters?

Blessed Fate shook his head. “Amitabha. Benefactor knows what you speak of is forbidden. Death is but the beginning of the next chapter. Forcing our acolytes out of the Samsara would bereave them of their search for enlightenment.”

“It’s not like you haven’t broken those rules before. And I don’t know who else has both the skill and audacity to bring something out under all our noses,” Auban shrugged.

He knew he was barking up the wrong tree. With the Left Imperial Expanse sitting atop the River of Time, it wasn’t possible to pinpoint the exact temporal coordinates of the trial takers. Without grasping their point of death, tracing their lifeline to an earlier position was destined to fail. Besides, Auban hadn’t lied about one thing. Whatever came out didn’t rely on temporal manipulation. It neither reached back in time nor sent something forward.

This was the first time in three months the old continent had given off any flicker of life. Not everyone was satisfied with his curt answer. Auban ignored any subsequent messages, including those from acquaintances. His oath took precedence, as did his curiosity. His attention returned to the river, and the String of Time resumed searching for the fish who’d grazed his Authority.

The kid’s aura was so familiar. So why couldn’t he remember? Auban was determined to get to the bottom of the matter. If nothing else, his fisherman’s intuition was telling him that finding the fish meant finding a clue to the unexpected breach. The absence of clues was a clue in itself. The shifty old monk seemed to share this opinion.

Auban had to hold back his laugh upon seeing the hidden nets of Karma entering the river over and over. Blessed Fate could run himself ragged, searching for the cause of the disrupted trajectories for all he cared. It was too late to meddle now that the little fish had stepped onto the Left Imperial Expanse, and Auban had already messed up the temporal traces out of spite.

The Sangha would probably have to call on their Lord to successfully peer through the layers of obscuration—would that old thing dare open his eyes under Emperor Evrodok’s Heaven? Probably not. He was playing the long con, and getting tangled up with another conman wouldn’t do him any good.

Auban couldn’t wait to see what the old schemers of the Limitless Empire had planned for the Fifth Pillar after the first four ascents failed so spectacularly. The pillars had been stripped of their fortunes, and the hyenas had fought over the Empire’s rotting flesh. Auban could feel the lingering trace of Imperial Destiny on most present.

Auban knew he was supposed to feel indignant over the theft, but he was more of a contractor than a devout follower. If anything, avoiding getting swept up in the furor saved his hide. And he certainly could understand the sentiment. Different from Dao and Law, Destiny could be created, but it was a slow and painstaking process.

Even the lowest Destiny manufactured from Faith Offerings needed generations of accumulation before it showed significant returns. Few at the peak were willing to toil for the benefit of their descendants when they could work on furthering their own Authority. It was easier to consume the Fate of others to bolster one’s own.

In that regard, there was no better target than Laondio Evrodok. The mad Emperor was long gone, and all that Destiny was just lying around. Were they supposed to let it gather dust until the River of Time dried out and the Era collapsed? Only the next Era would benefit from having it absorbed by the Cosmic Destiny. Who could possibly be that generous?

Auban even had a mind to catch a piece of Imperial Destiny for himself during the impending feeding frenzy. He didn’t particularly need it like some of these geezers with one foot in the grave, but he’d been curious about the taste for too long to remember. He was also confident he could have a bite without choking, unlike a certain group of self-imaged Emperors haughtily sitting on their dragon thrones.

The Seven Heavens were audacious indeed, daring to come back for more after the previous disaster. Auban had a sneaking suspicion history was about to repeat itself. It wasn’t him being biased because he’d been the pillar’s caretaker. The fifth and sixth pillars were different from the rest. They were slated to appear closest to the Zenith, and they were bound to hold something spectacular.

These younglings didn’t understand the terror of the Limitless Empire—of the mad Emperor. They saw the battle over its remnants as a game. The old hands gathered knew better, but they had their own plans and considerations. Everyone was casting their lines, seeing themselves as the fisherman. Only time would prove who was right.

————

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A flood of shared memories was the final confirmation Zac needed they were back. Connecting with his other half was always a comfort. After being caught in a loop of memories and time, it was a blessing.

Esmeralda had been forced to stop her journey when his work on the [Eclipse Twin] had reached its later stages. The pilfered Void Energy hadn’t limited its escape to his human side. His Draugr half was better positioned to resist the pressure, yet his Death-attuned body was left in a worse state. After all, only his human side benefitted from the Realmlord’s benediction.

Thankfully, the damage wasn’t too bad. The cracks that had sprung Void leaks would recover in a week or two, and they would only marginally lessen his ability. There were also no signs of the temporal backlash he’d worried over. The Realmlord might have been lying about other things, but the part about not messing with causality appeared to be true.

Who knew, the attempt might have failed? Zac wouldn’t bet his life on it, but he somewhat felt it would be the best outcome. The Realmlord’s motives remained unknown, and the true version knowing all his secrets wasn’t a good thing. Zac shook his head. There was nothing he could do about the situation, and having escaped the hall of windows didn’t mean they were safe.

The dense mist had given Zac a bad feeling since day one, and that hunch was much stronger now that they’d been spat out in its depths. A tremor of danger prompted Zac to bring out [Verun’s Bite], and the azure haze turned into cyclones as its edge swished past.

Zac barely felt any resistance, but there was no denying the huge severed fish head drifting away. Two more hidden creatures were impaled by shadow spears before Zac’s danger sense grew more urgent. Looking around, Zac saw countless microscopic spatial fractures. Their simple attacks had aggravated them further, and a few were about to expand into proper spatial tears.

“Not again!” Ogras groaned and was about to drag the two away.

“Wait, look,” Zac said. Mist was seeping into the cracks, causing them to promptly close. “The sea is acting like a natural sealant.”

“The spatial integrity is so weak. Leftover damage from the original disaster?” Ogras mused.

“Probably. Anyway, let’s get going. I doubt anything stronger than those fish can survive here, but this place is still giving me the creeps. There are probably other dangers lurking.”

Ogras nodded and dragged the two toward the surface, hiding their position by blending shadows with mist. Space truly was fragile. Simply moving too fast was enough to leave spatial tears in their wake, and they noticed multiple instances of spontaneous eruptions. Thankfully, there seemed to be no end to the sealant mist rising from the depths. All damage was promptly mended before it could cause a stir.

The mist quickly grew thinner, and the illusory fish this close to the surface didn’t pose a threat. Ogras speared the few foolish enough to come close before they could react. Finally, a boundless sky replaced the swirling azure as they pierced the vapor sea’s surface. The sight of the familiar crater and the sprawling lands of the Left Imperial Expanse was like an elixir for Zac’s soul.

Looking around, Zac confirmed Dipper Seven’s memory domain was already gone. Only a sparse rain of memory lanterns indicated its previous position. They had appeared quite a distance, closer to the opposite side’s edge than where they started.

Ogras looked as relieved as Zac felt. “Never a boring day with you around.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Zac said with a helpless look. “I know I say this a lot, but I didn’t expect things to go that out of hand.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. A parent wouldn’t blame a newborn demonling for knocking over a vase. Likewise, I can’t fault a natural troublemaker for creating trouble,” Ogras said with grit teeth. “If someone is deserving of a dressing down, it’s that unreliable old Emperor. What kind of shoddy pillar did that miser build? One little Hegemon is enough to make it run amok? If things get like this while visiting random memories, what’ll happen when we step into the courts? The golden age of cultivation, my scaly ass.”

Zac laughed as the demon kept listing complaints about the trial and its builders. He guessed the malfunction could be explained by a combination of age, damage, and the uncertain variables introduced by the Void. The last part, especially, was the most likely culprit. Whether the memories were based on the Daos of Faith, Karma, Dreams, or something else, it was ultimately a Dao.

How could Dao possibly reproduce Void-attuned items?

Take the [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. The item he found was clearly the original, and its damage was left after the pillar’s activation. Zac suspected the same was true for the [Eclipse Twin] and the other Void Treasures inside the memory domain. Like how Supremacies reached back in time to “resurrect” people by bringing them to the present, the Hidden Earth Abode or part of it had been moved into the domain.

That would explain why such powerful temporal fluctuations had been released when the realm collapsed. Those pieces of history had probably been collected when the pillar was activated, giving the Void ample time to erode the memory.

Zac looked at the [Fuxi Mountain Gate]. It showed no hints of damage after having a Peak C-grade Void Treasure crammed down its throat. Neither had the Fifth Pillar’s aura managed to harm it. On the contrary, the runes looked significantly stronger. Had the relic managed to absorb Imperial Faith directly from the trial’s main source?

Inspecting the relic’s internal situation proved more challenging. Chaotic fluctuations tore apart Zac’s consciousness the moment he tried to look inside. It would take a while for the gate to digest the [Eclipse Twin]’s pistil. Thinking of the flower made Zac recall another matter. He turned to Ogras, who’d finally run out of curses.

“Those wraiths you summoned, is your flag okay?”

Ogras had already explained the restrictions on the [Shadewar Flag]. Using it against anything but heretical cultivators would harm its transformation, possibly even attract Heaven’s attention. With the trial being filled with Fate and Faith, bringing it out could have unexpected side effects.

“It should be fine; they were sacrificial pawns,” Ogras shrugged. “I’ve already gotten rid of most of the wraiths who didn’t suit the flag’s new direction—mostly unorthodox cultivators I collected inside the Million Gates Territory. I kept as many as I could without harming my plan. I used up most of them on my way back to Zecia. Now, I only have two left.”

Zac grimaced upon realizing Ogras had essentially emptied his reserves to weaken the Inverse Dao. The demon glanced at Zac’s regretful expression. “Who cares? That thing is more of a curse than a blessing. I’ve never planned on relying on it until it’s aligned with the Four Laws. Besides, it’s not like I came away emptyhanded.”

“I noticed,” Zac looked at Ogras with interest. “The fight gave you inspiration for your first Earthly Dao?”

“In a way. I caught a glimpse of a greater truth by observing Dao’s shadow,” Ogras said.

“You incorporated the Void into your Dao?” Zac slowly said with confusion. As for avoiding the topic of the Void—that ship long sailed since Dipper Seven. “Is that even possible?”

“No. Well, I have no idea—you’d know better than me. The notion was more of a springboard into a broader abstraction. True shadows aren’t limited to those cast by lack of light. Anything can cast a shadow, even concepts and Daos.”

“A broader view? It’s just like him,” Zac hummed.

“Who? That fake miner?” Ogras asked with confusion.

“No, the Realmlord of the Kālasūtra,” Zac said, finally explaining his miraculous recovery.

“That coffin actually sensed its future self on you? And he realized he was only part of a memory?” Ogras whistled. “I’m surprised he took it so well. I don’t know what I would have done if I figured out I was just the figment of someone’s imagination. Let me tell you, it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“I’m impressed he managed to use the pillar’s memory to his advantage, sending a message to his true self,” Zac agreed.

“That begs the question, why did the trial have such a memory in the first place?” Ogras asked. “I figured the continent had captured pieces of its history. So why is it holding a memory of the Threaded Hell? Did those madmen copy the whole Cosmos? Or are these memories being created as needed by peering into the past?”

“Not necessarily,” Zac slowly said. “I’ve been thinking. Kālasūtra could be connected to the Hollow Court. Actually, quite a few Lower Planes might be.”

“You’re talking about the Margrave’s mission? But why? Were they robbing the Lower Planes for materials?” Ogras suggested.

Zac took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. “You know the Void Treasure I fed all that energy? You could say it’s a piece of the Fifth Pillar. The Limitless Empire didn’t trust the Left Imperial Expanse to carry the pillar’s weight alone, so they created bridges leading to the Void to help share the load.”

The demon’s eyes widened with comprehension. “Those bridges weren’t the only ones they built.”

“Exactly. I think they connected the Fifth Pillar, or perhaps all of them, with as many Lower Planes as they could. While the Templars dealt with the bridge to the Void, the Hollow Court built those to the Lower Planes,” Zac said. “That’s why you picked the gate leading to the Threaded Hell. You have Fate with the Hollow Court, and you followed that trace.”

As Zac talked, more pieces fell into place. “I know what you want to say—don’t get too invested in these matters—but I think all this is related to my mission. Say I’m right. Apart from being the headquarters of the Nameless Blades, the Hollow Court mainly dealt with the Lower Planes. Why would it require the Primo’s treasure?

“The Limitless Empire was definitely not lacking weapons, so the treasure had to be important for the Hollow Court’s mission.”

“You think the Primo’s treasure was stolen from the Eight Hells?” Ogras concluded.

Zac shrugged. “Maybe. It would explain why they’re so hostile against the Undead Empire. The Primo could also be a former resident of a Hell. He might even be one of their Realmlords. After all, who better understands the Lower Planes than their rulers? They’d make the perfect helper for the undertaking.”