The Limitless Empire rising to power in the early stages of the Era was both an opportunity and a curse. It was only because the Heavens were young and weak that it could be overpowered. At the same time, with so few Dao Peaks complete, how were they supposed to build a perfect System?
Fuxiâs mantra was a method perhaps invented with this problem in mind; it derived the meaning of Dao by observing the shadow cast by the Void. Some would argue that observing Dao through the Void was cultivation with extra steps. Instead of looking at the shape of shadows, why not draw inspiration directly from the sun?
While true, it had specific uses. One was matching specific Daos and Voids, the basis that allowed Fuxi Hall to exist. The underworld would long since have collapsed if Fuxi hadnât calculated pathways and compositions that would allow for a stable, long-term exchange of Void and Dao.
The technique could also be used to fill in the gaps of an incomplete Dao. It was an approach with some connection to Mox, whoâd figured out a method of hiding inside the cracks of the incomplete Dao Peaks. Zac suspected he had a hand in improving Fuxiâs mantra by bringing down that evil god.
Naturally, the Void couldnât be relied on to replace the true Dao or expedite the mending of the broken peaks. The echoes of the Void could only show the Dao that existed or had existed in the past; it could not display the future. The Grand Dao went through permutations between each Era, so the Dao of Yesterday could not just be fitted into the current Heaven. It was the same as how the cultivation methods of previous Eras didnât work today.
The Limitless Empire had still made things work when it came to the Hollow Court. Whether it was through opportunity or necessity was hard to say. Zac suspected the Peak of Chaos was a cause for headache when erecting the eight pillars that suppressed the Heavens. All seventeen Dao Peaks were represented between the Outer Courts, possibly barring the Peak of Man. They were connected through the Imperial Road into an unfathomably complex machine designed to suppress the Heavens in its entirety.
Except, how was one supposed to include an untameable force like the Dao of Chaos?
Zac had a theory that the First Garden held the Dao of the Eraâs birth, while the Ninth Hell represented its eventual demise. The Ninth Hell couldnât exist since it wasnât the right time yet. At the same time, the unequal number of Gardens and Hells should be a natural expression of the asymmetry and disharmony inherent to the Peak of Chaos.
Balancing the scale was a way for the empire to enforce balance and order, even if temporary. Fuxiâs Mantra gathered the Dao of Cosmic Death from multiple Eras to mimic the real thing. The second step was fully integrating it with the Era of Order. It could be a method related to the Margrave and the Inverse Peak, or it could be a Supreme Treasure of death.
The Ninth Hellâs current state should be the result of the integration failing. The artificial death had returned to its original state, becoming a corrupted Dao of multiple Eras. This was directly connected to the Primo and Zacâs mission. There were clues in everything Zac had learned about the Primo, so long as he knew where to look.
The Primo first appeared before the undead races during the Dark Ages. Before that, he was conscripted by the Limitless Empire to assist in the construction of the System. As part of that endeavor, he was forced to leave behind an item critical to his cultivation.
The Limitless Empire fell, yet the Primo survived. He gathered the Divine Races, leading the search for safe harbor when the Dao collapsed. Eventually, they discovered the Heart of the Empire, the Death-attuned Eternal Heritage that became the foundation of the Undead Empire.
Today, the lower ranks of the empire thought the Undead Empire had five Divine Races, with the elusive Founders being the fifth. In reality, the Founders were simply puppets or clones of the Primo, whose true body was secluded in the depths of the Heart of the Empire. Together, the clones were referred to as the âEternal 108.â
Adding the context Zac had found so far, a different picture emerged. The Primo openly walked the lands during the Dark Ages, yet grew increasingly reclusive as the Era progressed. From what heâd heard from Tavza, the Primoâs true body hadnât emerged over the past generations of Supremacies. What if that was not a sign of age, but an act of necessity?
If the Primo was the Realmlord of an artificial realm borrowing Dao from previous Eras, he might be an existence only halfway integrated into the Era of Order. It was a state that should come with unique perks. AâZu and BeâZi had to spend a huge amount of effort transforming their gains inside the
[Waking Nautilus]
into something that could be used. The Primo might be able to directly draw strength from the Heart of the Empire, which allowed him to stay alive all this time.
Naturally, there would be punishing drawbacks to balance out the perks. Not being aligned with the Eraâs Dao wouldnât matter during the Dark Ages, but the Primo faced greater suppression as the Era moved toward the Zenith. Staying inside the Heart of the Empire would only compound the effect. If the Primoâs true body emerged now, it might receive the same reception as Jalach.
Connecting all the dots, the Primoâs treasure should be the nucleus of the Ninth Hell, a supreme treasure that allowed the Death of the past to integrate with the current Era. By taking it back, the Primo would become whole. He wouldnât have to dilute his presence through a hundred clones, and he could directly commune with the Era of Orderâs Heavenly Dao. If correct, it was a tailor-made solution achieving what Jalach hoped to accomplish with the
[PashoâHar Bell]
.
There were still some missing pieces. For instance, the Primoâs exact origin remained unclear. Was he a being of a previous Era and thus uniquely suited to manage its Death? Was he a Realmlord of another Lower Plane, or was he born when the Empire created the Ninth Hell? Secondly, how did the Nine Gardens and Eight Hells figure into the picture?
Their previous understanding was by no means incorrect. The Hollow Court had borrowed the strength of the Lower Planes to raise the Fifth Pillar. Zac was sure there was more to it. He suspected their unique connection was a third component to the plan, which helped keep the Ninth Hell stable long enough for it to matter. Fuxiâs mantra wouldnât have been enough on its own.
Zac had spent all his time pondering these matters since arriving in the mirror realm, and it wasnât just to sate his curiosity. Fuxiâs mantra could very well become the critical contributor in figuring out a solution for his Inner World. Fuxi Halls itself was invaluable research material for his blueprint. Where else could he find a world that was equal parts Dao and Void?
Understanding the mantra and how it related to the Ninth Hell was also critical in completing his mission. Two weeks of exploration had confirmed a few things. First off, the Primoâs treasure was definitely adrift. The Primoâs feather had reacted three more times over the past weeks, and only for a few fleeting moments. The nucleus was likely moving at a speed that Zac couldnât match.
Catching up with it from a well-placed dimensional tear had some potential for success, but it was a risky endeavor. It could already have flown out of reach by the time Zac made it through. Depending on how large Ninth Hell was, he risked running out of energy before he found his way back. Heâd found a much more promising solution than running around like a headless chicken.
To get there, Zac needed to supplement his theoretical knowledge with practical experience. By using Fuxi Mantra as a visualization technique, heâd tamed Ninth Hellâs decay within his own body. While Zacâs incomplete mastery wasnât enough to become one with the Ninth Hell, it made him a visitor met with indifference.
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Maintaining his state, Zac observed the flows of death through the lens of Fuxiâs tapestry. Patterns gradually emerged. Deaths with distinct markers fused and separated in an endless cycle, futilely trying to reach a stable state. In addition to the transformation of Dao, there were large, hidden trajectories that kept the energy moving.
The theory was no different from the revolutions taking place in his Quantum Space, except the invisible streams followed rules that eluded Zacâs grasp. With every sliver of refined Enlightenment extracted from
[Purity of the Void]
, Zac drew closer to his unified answer.
Ten minutes into his observation, Zac suddenly opened a vortex and stepped through, moving a dozen miles in a single bound. There was no sign of the Imperial Flames on the other side, though Zac could intuit its direction by observing the energy flows. He ensured the vortex would remain stable before turning his attention to the thing he came for.
A broken tower silently floated a yard away, its cracked exteriors covered in an oily film of putrid death. Eons of corrosion couldnât hide the scars of battle. The tower had collapsed long before it was deposited in the broken remnants of the Ninth Hell. And it wasnât uninhabited.
A surge of purple poured out of a crack. It wasnât given the chance to display its might before a flash of gold momentarily illuminated the gloom. A set of vines poured out of his Worldring, binding the decapitated creature before it could drift away. It looked like something youâd find deep in the sea: a twelve-legged crustacean with a huge number of feelers extending from its back.
Zac stashed the beast with satisfaction. While only a Late D-grade Undead Beast on the weaker side, it was only the second native of the Fifth Hell heâd encountered. Studying its body composition and attunement could yield valuable data. Still, it was only a bonus. His aim was the tower itself.
Zac wasnât exactly sure what he was looking for. Anything that helped him round out his understanding would do. Zac somewhat understood the equation to calculate the trajectory of the Primoâs treasure, but he lacked one or two variables to make it all work. A diagram outlining the Ninth Hellâs Dao or an Information Jade holding a more structured impartation of Fuxiâs mantra would be great.
There was not much of value inside. The attack that broke the tower had destroyed most of its spirituality. Drifting inside decaying death and being turned into a lair had taken care of the rest. The only thing showing promise was a cracked array disk the size of a washbasin. While broken beyond repair, it retained a decent number of engravings.
The patterns were based on the Dao of Death, and there were hints of the Inverse Peak. Seeing it didnât trigger an immediate spark of recollection, but it was another piece of the puzzle. Zac returned through the Void Vortex shortly after, but he wasnât ready to give up just yet. He found three unexplored ruins over as many hours, two drifting structures and a destroyed vessel hurtling through space at extraordinary speed. Zac didnât dare enter the latter because of its ominous aura, only scanning it for clues as it passed by.
As much as Zac wanted to, he couldnât keep going. Maintaining the vortices inside Ninth Hell was quite taxing, as was visualizing Fuxiâs mantra. He hadnât actually mastered it, and its clarity faded the longer he strayed from the statue. Thus, another hunt ended with incremental gains instead of a major breakthrough.
Zac returned to the memory and headed for the next stop. His daily schedule had looked mostly the same since settling in the mirror realm. He spent most of his time meditating before Fuxiâs statue, then a few hours exploring Ninth Hell for clues. Then, he either visited the mountain or delved underground to look for Natural Treasures and Dimensional Rifts.
It took two hours to reach the miniature mountain, at which point heâd already recovered much of his spent Void Energy. Surrounding the mountain was a pure Faith-attuned domain, an exception to the rule in the mirror world.
The glowing sigils marking the domainâs outer bounds exuded a force of repulsion that prevented an all-out war with the Void. The effect wasnât perfect, and there was a steady stream of Void Energy throwing itself at the wall of Faith. Zac stopped by a crudely crafted platform floating just outside the domain, right in the middle of a major Void Energy current.
Zac placed the
[Fuxi Mountain Gate]
atop the platform on a small altar. Through some trial and error, Zac had figured out how to create an energy backdraft with his vortices, allowing the
[Fuxi Mountain Gate]
to steadily siphon some of the passing Void Energy. The effect wasnât nearly as pronounced as when it consumed the
[Twilight Eclipse]
, but it was free and bottomless. It was also just the appetizer.
Judging by his internal clock, heâd arrived right on time. Zac flew to a neighboring mountain, ready to reclaim the mountain gate at a momentâs notice. He soon sensed a murmur of life nestled in the depths of the mountain, soon to be replaced by death. It went back and forth, growing in intensity and frequency until the golden arrays flickered ominously.
Containment was breached just as Zac caught a glimpse of Chaos. A powerful surge of ancient Death swallowed the chaos mote and any lingering hints of life. It wasnât the Death of the Ninth Hell, at least not in its current state. It was the artificial Death Zac was trying to mimic by visualizing the mantra.
Zac decisively extracted his stockpile of refined enlightenment, rallying the runes in his mindâs eye one last time before they faded. All the while, Zac felt the Primoâs feather tremble inside his pocket.
The disruption shattered the fraught peace surrounding the miniature mountain. Vast amounts of Void Energy came rushing in, and the streams of energy turned into C-grade Rivers. One of the rivers faltered as it passed, its strength stolen by the nondescript mountain gate. Things calmed down within a few minutes, at which point Fuxiâs runes faded from his mind.
Zac dusted off his robes and flew back toward the platform with a satisfied smile. He would never grow tired of the sight. If all else failed, he would at least leave the mirror realm with a well-fed Void Treasure. He hadnât found any C-grade Void Treasures so far, but each session by the mountain provided nearly as much energy.
It was a win-win solution where Zac benefited by taking on some of the faith mountainâs burden. Consequently, the mountainâs faith had been growing stronger over time. It didnât help Zac, but he figured sowing some good Karma couldnât hurtâespecially when the mountain represented the final piece in the puzzle.
The mountain was hollow, yet there was no entrance. Zac had tried everything he could think of to get inside, including digging a tunnel from below. The reason was simple. The artificial death didnât appear out of thin air. The mountain, or something installed inside it, was directly connected to the Primoâs treasure, leading to occasional spillover because of its weakened state. The flickers of chaos were further proof; Ogras had sensed the same thing where Tavza disappeared.
If setting out into the vast nothingness of Ninth Hell was his backup plan, then the miniature mountainâs daily eruptions were his main goal. So long as he could get inside the mountain, he just needed to wait for the next eruption to reach the Primoâs Treasure. And it all circled back to Fuxiâs mantra. The Faith-attuned scripts covering the small mountain were different from the rest. Zac had already found some similarities to Fuxiâs runes and the artificial Death.
A little more, and heâd find a trapdoor or weakness. Heâd already sent over the patterns to his other side for another set of eyes on the problem. Meanwhile, he had helpers working hard elsewhere. Zac stepped into the Faith-attuned dome and took out his communicator. It was a happy surprise to find out that the mountain was a small hotspot with signal in the Void Realm.
âHow are things on your end?â Zac asked.
âSame old,â
Ogras answered.
âI managed to track down another missing link, but itâs nothing exciting. Tavza discussed crop cycles of some forgotten region with one of the wandering ghosts. It almost feels like sheâs messing with us. Do you want me to read the transcript?â
âSure, it might spark something,â Zac said.
Zac still believed there were clues hidden in Tavzaâs actions preceding her disappearance. He found it highly unlikely that sheâd jumped through the dimensional tear blind. As a skilled Formations Master, Archaeologist, and descendant of a top-tier Faction, she had likely pieced together a solution without relying on Fuxiâs mantra. If he could uncover those clues, they might be enough to fill in the blanks of his own equation.
Ten minutes later, Zac couldnât help but agree with Ogras. It really seemed like Tavza was messing with them.
âDid it help?â
Ogras asked, not bothering to mask his complete lack of faith.
â⊠Not right now,â Zac admitted. âIt might be part of the pattern; I just canât wrap my head around how.â
âIâm afraid this was the last of my clues. I can keep looking if you want, but I donât think itâll make much of a difference. I think youâre on your own on this one, buddy,â
Ogras said.
âHow long will it take you to deduce a path?â
âAt least another month unless I make a major discovery,â Zac sighed. âMaybe more. Itâs hard to tell with these unfamiliar concepts.â
âToo slow. We donât know whatâs keeping that girl occupied, but our position grows worse with every passing day,â
Ogras said.
âThe goal is to break through a barrier of Faith, right? I think itâs time you had a talk with that patient of yours.â
Zac looked in the direction of Fuxiâs statue before nodding thought. âI think youâre right.â