Chapter 1,289.

Zac trudged through the deadly duochrome. The dusty winds were red-hot with nature's wrath. Its everchanging shape was a stark contrast to the utter stillness of the ground. The storm had buffed the ground into a perfectly flat obsidian mirror. Its enduring silence was reminiscent of the Abyssal Pond. And like the bottomless waters, the land held incredible dangers.

It was impossible to tell whether it was something underground that fueled the storm or if the smooth surface had absorbed its strength for eons. No matter the truth, the ground felt like a volcano at the precipice of eruption. Its unspoken threat added to Zac's desire to leave. The further he got from the imperials, the better, and it wasn't like there was anything of value in this region.

Nothing changed over the next three hours. There were no signs of pursuers, and there was no break in the monotonous view. By that point, Zac was starting to get mentally exhausted from the ceaseless war within his body. It wasn't just the storm bothering him. Turning into a streak of fire that tore through such intense winds had done way more harm than the fight that prompted his escape.

[Ossuary Bulwark] was only faring marginally better. The armor was covered in shallow scars resembling trenches formed during earthquakes. The damage was still superficial. The armor would quickly recover with rest and supplies, but more troubling breaks would appear if Zac weren't careful.

The armor retracted, and Zac switched to solely defend with [Void Zone] and his physical body. Even weakened, the nullification sphere was more effective in resisting the winds, especially when Zac shrunk it to closely wrap his body. Zac continued without rest, knowing he couldn't keep this up forever.

Zac had expected there to be at least some places to hide from the storm and recharge his batteries. It was also difficult to tell whether he was making any progress. The Hollow Court's pillar occasionally peaked through the madness, but Zac had already learned that they couldn't be implicitly trusted. What one saw wasn't necessarily the truth when Natural Formations were involved.

He needed to look into fallback options while still in a position to do so. Zac took out a flying shuttle from his Spatial Ring. It was one of the flying treasures they'd used when entering the cursed remnants inside the Imperial Graveyard. Zac piloted it for a few minutes before landing. Flying above the clouds was out of the question. The winds were getting stronger the further up he went.

It was also like the Dao of Nature took offense to any man-made creation within its domain. Cutting winds were explicitly targeting the metallic craft, trying to grind it down to a smooth disk like the floor. Zac kept the ship out a while longer, using it as a lightning rod while inspecting the ground. There were no cracks to exploit, and his Soul Sense couldn't discover any underground caves.

Out of better options, Zac chose to test out the tactic that saved his life in the Twilight Chasm. [Verun's Bite] dug into the ground, tearing out a small chunk of tempered stone. Zac didn't have time for a second swing before a scream of warning forced him to run for his life. He didn't even take the moment to stow the flying treasure.

A geyser of primal Dao poured out of the wound, triggering a deadly cyclone. A second attempt yielded the same result. Digging a shelter was out of the question. Zac turned to the sky, spotting a weak flicker of gold in the ruby winds. Was there no other option? Zac shook his head and kept going.

Zac's encounter with Insik had already given him the most obvious solution to his predicament, which was the reason he dared hatch his scheme in the first place. The situation wasn't nearly bad enough to grab a random lantern to escape. He only had three empty slots, two of which might be required to enter the Mercurial and Hollow Courts. At the very least, Zac wanted to hold out until finding a decent one.

Another six hours of Zac rotating his defenses went by. There was still no end in sight. If anything, the storm was getting more intense. It was at that time Zac felt a distant burst of Imperial Faith. Zac's head turned toward the source, [Verun's Bite] already in hand. Had they come? Zac hid his aura as best he could while waiting for another sign.

Five minutes later, Zac felt the eruption again. It didn't feel like the swordsman's faith. Imperial Faith could have different flavors, and this one was much closer to that of the Empyrean Chalice. It was also extremely pure as if a Natural Treasure holding Imperial Faith had somehow been born. Intrigued, Zac changed course.

It took half an hour to reach the source. Zac had to do a double take to confirm his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The small grave standing in the middle of the storm was real. The three-foot-tall tombstone was carved from natural stone, and its surface had been eroded to the point it was impossible to read who rested there.

The stone looked and felt wholly unremarkable, yet it endured the storm with much greater success than Zac. In fact, the storm didn't dare come within twenty feet of the grave. It almost felt like it was afraid to disturb the rest of whoever had been buried here. The scene was remarkable in more ways than one.

Encountering man-made structures in the Left Imperial Expanse had proven incredibly difficult. Any traces of the Limitless Empire were removed with pinpoint precision. The erasure didn't seem to affect remnants from earlier epochs, like the Stormwall Tor and the ant colony's hidden mound. However, how many such remnants could survive both the Limitless Empire and the countless years that followed their reign?

Floating above the grave was a solitary memory lantern. It was decently bright, though not nearly as radiant as Terea Wendimar's. Zac had spotted a few dozen lanterns at the same level since the trial began. The only thing that stood out was the purity of its Imperial Faith. It wasn't strong, but Zac felt like it had been tempered and purified countless times.

A lantern at this level would normally only warrant a second look before Zac moved on, but there was something about it that made it difficult to look away. The way it staunchly stood watch over the grave without faltering resonated with Zac. Like him, it was a protector.

There was also the mysterious pulse of faith he'd felt before. Zac couldn't discern its origin, so he stayed at the safe zone's edge. Zac's vision was flooded by radiant gold a minute later, and an overwhelming holiness almost forced him to his knees. The eruption was night and day compared to outside.

Everything the holy light touched transformed. A patch of golden grass hid the obsidian ground, and a gentle sunset replaced the angry winds. Even the tombstone was gone. Its spot had been taken by a wooden wheelbarrow. It was simple and unadorned, yet it appeared capable of holding a world in its tray.

The old Zac wouldn't have known what the wheelbarrow represented. Thankfully, he'd looked into the other Templar Orders after becoming the Terminal Son of the Empyrean Chalice. The wheelbarrow was one of the symbols of the Order of Fertile Earth. Their role was slightly different from the Empyrean Chalice, who were mostly focused on safeguarding the Empire and its mission.

The templars of Fertile Earth doubled as farmers. They nourished their faith by turning the soil and communing with the lands. Their effect on crops was even greater than most modern farmer classes. The order also had talented purifiers who could cleanse battlefields and taboo zones, helping expand the Empire's borders through their blessings.

The memory lantern flickered and returned to normal, and Zac was once more looking at a solitary grave. The lantern was the source of the eruption. It had briefly transformed, giving off a completely different aura. Zac walked over and infused his will after confirming it was safe. The lantern returned the stalwart sense of honor and duty he'd felt from many others. It was the impressions Zac had come to equate to soldiers.

Considering the situation, there was a decent chance the lantern represented a templar. Although, that didn't explain how it could release such bursts of power or why Zac was so attracted to it. Zac turned his attention to the tombstone. No matter how he inspected it, it seemed like a normal rock.

The unexpected discovery had given him a few options. The lantern was much better than the other ones he'd spotted inside the storm, even when ignoring the mysterious phenomenon. Finding a more suitable alternative was highly unlikely, so it was the best choice if he wanted to escape by hitching a ride in someone else's memory.

However, the grave was like an oasis in the storm. Zac could use its protection to fully recover in a few days. He was confident he could endure the rest of the stretch after getting back in shape, so it wasn't strictly necessary for him to escape through a memory lantern. It would save him a precious identity slot, but was leaving such a unique lantern behind the right call?

It didn't give off the aura of Ultom or any of the courts, but it was unique in another way. Not sure what to make of it, Zac asked Esmeralda's opinion. She'd observed the whole river of lanterns that brought them to the trial. She hadn't seen anything matching this kind of phenomenon. All other lanterns were static in the power they emitted, making this one all the more interesting.

"Fate," Zac muttered.

He'd made his decision. It was calling to him so he would answer. Of course, there was no hurry. Zac spent the next ten hours recovering. He still wasn't back in perfect condition, but the blasts of faith arrived every five minutes like clockwork. It didn't seem dangerous, but it was starting to wear him down.

Zac got to his feet and turned to the grave to give it a respectful bow. "I'm sorry. I have to bring your companion away. I hope you find peace."

The world was drowned in gold five seconds later. It was time. Zac's hand shot forward, and he stepped into the dream.

-----------

'Emera is working today, isn't she? I hope she's made stew. I'm always so hungry after—'

Marcuz's idle thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain in his left shin. His body was already struggling from following the stances, and the jolt made his muscles spasm. Markuz felt the world tilt before slamming headfirst into the ground. He ignored the pain and quickly got back to his feet. Any delay would only invite further punishment.

"Never get distracted. Always maintain a state of readiness. Death rarely announces its arrival. It can come out of nowhere."

"How? Has one of Old Miller's goats escaped? Not even bandits can be bothered visiting this dull place," Markuz muttered.

"One day, you'll realize that dullness is a blessing," the old man said. "Continue."

Another ten minutes passed as Markuz moved from one position to the next. Occasionally, his instructor would poke him a branch to correct his form or punish mistakes. When the session concluded, streams of heat rose from Markuz's body whole body.  

"Your legs are pillars connecting you with the boundless Earth. If they waver, your strike will lack power. Not even Lords who can soar through the sky are an exception."

"Thank you for the guidance, master!" Markuz said, forcing his drained body to bow.

The effect was as amazing as ever. Markuz could run for two hours without getting winded, but following Senior Brooks' teachings for twenty minutes left him gasping for breath.

"Don't call me master. I'm just teaching you a thing or two so you don't get yourself killed when I'm gone," the old man sighed.

"Of course, master," Markuz grinned, hiding the pang of guilt.

Senior Brooks had never told him the name of the method he taught or where it came from. It was obviously far superior to the [Five Elements Rotation]. Markuz even suspected it was better than the Lord's personal technique. Markuz had no way to reciprocate such great benevolence except by earnestly mastering the teachings. Unfortunately, his lacking talents were holding him back.

Markuz hoped that exceeding expectations would lessen the bleak sorrow etched on the senior's features. Markuz promised himself he'd practice another round after they'd returned. Being untalented wasn't a sin—being lazy was. He'd have to work twice as hard to make it happen.

"Let's continue. We can't cause problems for the next shift," Senior Brooks said.

Markuz followed the old man back to the trail and they resumed their watch. Every night, someone needed to travel the forest's perimeter to ensure no predators snuck into the farmland. It couldn't be considered a dangerous or exciting job. It was over twenty days since they encountered a solitary wolf. A casual look from Senior Brooks had scared it half to death.

"Master, it's a waste for you to stay as a common guardsman in this remote kingdom!" Markuz said.

"Shh."

"The capital is far, but you can—" Markuz turned around to see why the old man had stopped and his words caught in his throat.

Senior Brooks exuded a terrifying aura that Markuz's mind tried to shut down as a form of protection. The gruff but gentle elder suddenly felt like a monster, and the flames of war in his eyes burned Markuz's very soul.

"Return at once. Run and don't look back. Inform the Lord."

"Inform the Lord?" Markuz gasped. "About what?"

The answer came in the form of an explosion that threw Markuz off his feet. Fire filled his vision, and power far beyond his comprehension was grinding him to dust. Suddenly, the pressure disappeared. Markuz realized Senior Brooks had appeared before him. His outstretched hand had stopped a shockwave that ripped through the hill they stood on, saving Markuz's life.

The Summervale Forest had become a sea of fire that went on for dozens of miles. Markuz couldn't think. The apocalyptic scene held him prisoner until a surge of warm energy jolted him awake. Senior Brooks turned back toward the flames, an unfamiliar, resplendent sword in his hand.

"Inform the Lord that enemies of the Empire have arrived."

-----

Zac looked at the youth's receding back while sorting through the memories and emotions from his shared consciousness. The kid was named Markuz, a guardsman under the employ of some local Lord. Of humble birth, Markuz could barely be considered a cultivator. He'd learned an extremely crude mantra at a public school.

After ten years of diligent practice, he was only the equivalent of a Level 15 cultivator. Early Body-Tempering Realm, they called it. He'd mostly been hired as a guard thanks to his superior innate strength. The young man's strength was the polar opposite of the man whose shoes Zac had stepped into.

Tam Brooks was a peak Middle Hegemon and a starred veteran of the Phoenix Legion. One star meant one hundred years of active service; two stars meant one thousand. Tam was a three-star veteran, having fought under the Emperor's banners for twelve thousand years. Three-starred veterans were very rare. Most would fall long before that, and a few lucky ones would break through and transfer to better positions.

Tam retired after a catastrophic disaster nearly annihilated the Phoenix Legion. His sworn brothers were all dead, so he chose to hang up his sword rather than transfer to a new division. He'd spent the following six thousand years traveling the Left Imperial Expanse. Eventually, he'd settled down in a remote fiefdom where the Lord was only a Late E-grade Cultivator.

They were deep in the shallows, to the point the locals barely knew of cultivation. They called everything above F-grade Immortals. It was almost unbelievable that such an ordinary place could exist on a Primal Heaven. However, that also isolated the region from the struggles of the cultivation world. It was peaceful.

It was a mystery why someone like Tam Brooks had settled here, going so far as to hide his status and become a simple guardsman. Zac wasn't convinced Tam himself knew. The fractured memories told the story of a man trapped in the past. Perhaps he missed the camaraderie of the army. It was Markuz's resemblance to an old companion that made Tam teach him a simple body-refinement technique.

The identity wasn't exactly what Zac had expected. There were never any guarantees that touching the memory lantern in its transformed state would send him to a better vision, but shouldn't Tam Brooks at least have been a templar? There was nothing in Tam's memories that could explain the scene outside. The old soldier had no connection to the Order of Fertile Earth.

Another explosion shook the forest, this one even closer. Zac shrugged and started running, moving in sync with Tam's original intent. Since the answers Zac sought weren't on his person, then they had to be waiting in the forest. He just needed to pry them from the cold dead hands of some heretics.