Chapter 1,273.

Kristvan's frown deepened from the information transmitted through the hundreds of runes floating around him. He sought the source of the anomaly, digging toward the depths of the earth and reaching far into the sky. There was no earthly reason to be found for the slight but comprehensive drop. The cosmos was still providing enough to maintain the node's operations, but it was getting more difficult by the minute.

It was only a matter of time before they'd have to start compromise. Kristvan turned toward the central tower, his heart filled with misgivings. Why now? A series of slight alterations ensured a smooth supply of Spiritual Energy for the next few hours. The prospect of facing censure for his actions didn't even register. Nothing could be allowed to go wrong at this juncture. He only released the connection after confirming no changes beyond the gradual decline.

"Baron Wendimar!" the two guards saluted when Kristvan stepped out of his office. "The commander is requesting your presence."

Kristvan inwardly grimaced, only showing the transcendent dignity of a cloister-trained Formations Master on the outside. Was he caught already? "Good."

He stepped through the Void, his misgivings only growing from the weak resistance. He found the commander standing atop the central tower, looking out across the endless sea of orange verdure.

"You've altered the allocation."

It wasn't a question. Kristvan nodded. "I have."

Commander Andrak held his gaze for what felt like an eternity before continuing. "Do you have any insights regarding the changes?"

Against all odds, the commander wasn't questioning the clear transgression. Kristvan's relief was short-lived. A hardliner like Commander Andrak didn't bother upholding military law? Their relationship was nowhere near close enough for such treatment, and the Wendimar name had fallen so far it had long since been forgotten.

Which could only mean the commander had much bigger fish to fry.

"A drained or damaged Dragon Vein isn't enough to explain the phenomenon, and it shows none of the tell-tale signs of a blight or curse. I fear we're looking at a deeper issue," Kristvan said, the wheels in his mind turning. He'd been too preoccupied by the implications to properly analyze the cause. "Have you contacted the other nodes in the region?"

"They're all reporting similar issues," Andrak said. "The locals are also reacting. Base Firona and Pallak are facing tides. Pallak will hold even with weakened defenses. Firona will not."

Kristvan grimaced. Firona was situated in the middle of the Cloudripple Mountains, which was crawling with beasts. Their defenses were more comprehensive than the normal nodes, but that also meant greater energy requirements. A tide would put great strain on their base, and with the supply weakened…

"Any sightings of the forest spirits?" Kristvan asked.

"Not yet, but we expect it's only a matter of time," Commander Andrak said, looking at Kristvan meaningfully. "We've received orders from headquarters. We're leaving for Seventh Vestige Point in one hour unless the situation has reversed."

Kristvan felt a distant roar in his mind, causing a small storm in his Inner World. No wonder the commander wasn't pressing the issue. They were abandoning Base Pango, retreating to the regional headquarters. What would Andrak care about him siphoning off some of the base's energy? This was a disaster.

"I can't leave."

The grizzled commander was cut off before he could respond.

"I'm not leaving," Kristvan pressed, budding panic replaced by steely determination. "If you try to make me, I'll—"

"No need for threats," Andrak grunted. "I respect your decision, even if it's unlikely to change the outcome. I can feel it; we're entering a turbulent chapter."

"All the more reason."

Commander Andrak slowly nodded before taking out a chest rippling with foreboding energy. "I'll return this to you. You should understand its restrictions better than me."

Kristvan accepted his Master's creation with mixed emotions, finally understanding why the commander was acting so accommodating. He fully understood Kristvan's situation and planned on using it to protect his men. Kristvan didn't mind as it aligned with his own goals. "Thank you."

"I have to prepare the exodus," Andrak said, giving the Formations Master a final look as he faded from view. "They will keep the gate open as long as possible. Good luck."

"Who knows? We might be worrying over nothing," Kristvan said with a weak smile. "You might be back before this is over."

"Hm," Andrak grunted and disappeared.

Kristavan sighed and caressed his long beard. His words echoed hollowly even in his ears. Andrak's focus on the physical path didn't change the fact that he was also a genuine Void Herald. How could he not notice the same thing? Their Inner Worlds suffered the same treatment, and the Dao was growing hollow.

It was as though the Heavens were slowly turning their back on these lands. Even an energy-dense environment like the Pangonian Wilds would eventually be reduced to a wasteland from such treatment. What was the point in maintaining the node, then? The grand formation would lack the energy necessary to function even at the basest of levels.

The usually silent base was soon bustling with activity as the hundreds of guardians usually staying in secluded cultivation emerged. Kristvan ignored it all. He entered the central tower and was buffeted by the dense energies within. He soon stood before a sealed door, resisting the temptation of forcing his way through the barriers to spy on the situation within.

With the order being of the highest priority, the hubbub was replaced with an almost eerie calm less than an hour later. The base itself held little value beyond the impact it had on the vast network of Dragon Veins beneath the ground. There was nothing to dismantle or extract, allowing the unit to leave without delay.

Only a small rearguard remained to keep watch over the forest. Kristvan didn't place any hope on their assistance. They were just there to give early warning in case a tide showed potential to catch up with the main squad. They would leave as soon as Commander Andrak had created enough distance from the base.

Kristvan sighed and returned to his office, where he started a complete overhaul of the complex formations. Everything extraneous was turned off to benefit the central tower and Base Pango's defenses. Even the scouting formations were turned off—there was no point in knowing how big the upcoming tide was. He would face it all the same. Only the communicator was left intact in a desperate hope headquarters could deliver news and remedy.

When Kristvan finished his alterations, the base meant for long-term habitation had been transformed into an impregnable War Machine. In the five hours it took, the energy density had decreased by a quarter.

"Baron," one of the advance guards bowed when Kristvan emerged.

"Are you leaving?"

"Within ten minutes," the guard nodded, handing over a report.

Kristvan sighed upon skimming its contents. He only had six hours before the denizens of the forest reached the outer perimeter. "Thank you."

"We wish you two the best of luck," the captain said before departing.

Kristvan continued his work. The potential of the Imperial arrangement had been exhausted, but Clan Wendimar wasn't completely without means despite its sad state. Towers and array flags flew out of his Inner World one after another, expertly joining with the defenses. Four defensive layers became six, all of them thrumming with deadly deterrence.

Any hopes the grand display would dissuade an attack were ultimately dashed. The towering trees beyond the clearing swayed as the mists thickened, yet it was impossible not to notice what hid within. A sea of orange-haired nymphs were gliding toward the base, unfettered by gravity. They weren't alone.

One by one, beasts ranging from the size of a fingernail to mountain ranges came within view, setting aside their differences to fight their common enemy. Even the solitary spirits of the forests had arrived, not two of them looking alike. Two things unified the mottled army—intense fluctuations of corruption and burning rage, rage aimed at him and the Empire.

Any great undertaking comes at a cost. The nodes required pure Spiritual Energy to function properly, which meant the Earthly Taint had to be pushed into the surroundings until the whole tapestry was finished. Only then could the road display its purpose.

The residents of Pangonian Wilds had seen their environment grow increasingly twisted and impure over the past millennia. They'd tried resisting the Empire's expansion more than once, except they'd never managed to form a united front. Until now. The absolute drain afflicting the region was the last straw, the threat that forced the natives to unite.

Kristvan knew there was no point in trying to explain they weren't the reason for the Dao's collapse. He wouldn't believe him either if he were in their shoes. In fact, he wasn't certain they weren't at fault. Who else but the Limitless Empire wielded the power to obscure the Heavens themselves? The Selvari, perhaps, but they were sequestered on the opposite side of the universe.

No matter the truth, there was no going back. Rumbles like Heavenly thunder shook the forest as the tide crashed into the outer barrier. Automated defenses illuminated the night sky, carving mile-long scars in the ground. It changed nothing. The wilds had more than enough inhabitants to fill whatever gaps Kristvan created.

Mind splitting, a projection appeared before the sealed gate. Kristvan activated a rune that would allow his voice to reach inside. "We've encountered a minor setback. You might feel some tremors. Don't worry about it; we have everything under control. Focus on what's important."

Blood painted the forest green, yet the intensity of the attack only mounted. Kristvan held nothing back, personally controlling thousands of arrays to extract every ounce of strength. All that effort only delayed the inevitable. The outermost perimeter was soon swallowed by a sea of verdure, and towers that Kristvan had spent centuries crafting were torn down by vines and swipes of subjugated beasts.

Kristvan's heart would normally be bleeding at the loss of what was meant to become part of his ancestral home, but his desire made him detonate made him detonate them all without a shred of regret. A halo of unfettered power bloomed around Base Pango, overwhelming the combined might of the tide.

Millions of creatures were incinerated by the roiling waves of destruction that rippled outward to form a sea of flames. More than a dozen Void Heralds were among their ranks, having reacted too slowly to the sacrificial attack. The fire lasted the better part of a day until they were brought under control, at which point the siege started anew.

Anything Kristvan could do to slow down the encroachment, he did. The Forest Barbarians didn't care. They acted the role of Nature's emissaries, determined to expunge the blight on their lands at any price. The world itself couldn't sustain such a grievous battle. On the sixth day, the first Dragon Vein shattered, and its collapse brought the others with it.

With the land no longer sustaining the arrays, Kristvan had no choice but to power them himself. A dozen cracks appeared throughout the base, each of them pouring energy into its arrays. Kristvan's very soul cried from the agony of his Inner World bleeding out, yet he kept cutting off one chunk after another. Under no circumstances could the central tower's operations be interrupted.

Ultimately, only the Emperor and his Generals had the strength to overcome the forces of nature. Kristvan was far from that level, and his sacrifice wasn't nearly enough to turn the tides. Nine days was his absolute limit, yet he had persisted for ten. Soul leaking, Inner World collapsed, resources fully expended, Kristvan could do nothing but blankly pour energy into the final barrier.

He didn't even notice when a small imperfection appeared in the shield, and he was too slow to react to the root impaling his chest before crashing into the tower behind. The pain and horror stirred him awake, just in time to see a swarm of creatures pouring in. He didn't care about the beasts. The only thing in his eyes was the huge scar running the tower's length, including the sealed chamber.

Almost going insane with worry, Kristvan stirred his soul for a final sacrifice. However, an explosion of monstrous anger made his mind seize. He wasn't the only one. The army that had managed to breach the barrier's weakness before it mended had frozen in place after being inundated by the roiling tide of Killing Intent that came pouring out of the damaged tower.

Kristvan felt like he'd been transported to the brutal frontlines where blood flowed like rivers as the Imperial Legions fought the barbarians encroaching on their lands. Even the sky darkened as the figure responsible for the bloody aura appeared from the scar. Kristvan blankly looked on as a hand descended, triggering a rain of destruction that tore apart countless Beast Kings and nymphs. The constant bombardment of the army trapped outside the barrier grew distant as a singular thought occupied Kristvan's mind.

When did his daughter become so powerful?

---------------

Newfound power and white-hot rage coursed through Zac's veins as he emerged from the damaged cultivation chamber. The mix of confusing memories and raging emotions made it difficult to hold onto his sanity. Nevertheless, Zac didn't quash the memories and desires of Terea Wendimar. He made them his own, where her will was his.

Zac wasn't sure he could stop her if he wanted. They'd spent the past ten days in an odd clash of realities, simultaneously working on Terea's Peak Core while Zac worked on his own. Her thoughts had been his, as were her memories. And they'd both seen how far their father had gone to keep them safe.

Yes, his father. Whether he was trapped in an illusion or the memories of a light mote, it was impossible to ignore the selfless act of fatherly love. Kristvan Wendimar, a Formation Master with barely any combat ability of his own, had faced a whole army on his own to buy his daughter the time needed to break through.

Even at death's door, there was no indication of him backing down. Therefore, Zac wouldn't stop Terea's vengeance on the attackers. Rather, he urged it on, fueling it with his own Dao and cultivation. Two paths converged, and a rain of hellfire became a rain of burning axes. Axelights became red scars of searingly hot sharpness.

The world lost its color as Zac painted the base in blood, only stopping when the final invader had been reduced to burning rubble. Zac understood it was too little too late. There was no way he could deal with the still-growing tide outside the weakening barrier. Facing it was suicide even for him. And yet, what filled Zac's mind at that moment weren't thoughts of escape. There was only concern for the withered man who had slumped onto the ground.

"Good… good," Kristvan said with a pale smile when Zac appeared by his side.

"Dad!" The words came out of Zac's mouth, and he wasn't sure whether they came from him or the one he shared consciousness with. "I'm sorry… Because of me…"

"What are you talking about, silly girl?" Kristvan said with reproach, unable to mask the precariously flickering aura of his dissipating inner world. He exhibited no indication of confusion about Zac's appearance or the axe in his hand. There was only pride and relief in his eyes.

"I—" Zac said with a choked voice.

Another storm of intense emotions assaulted his mind, the most intense of which was grief and doubt. Most of it came from the temporary identity fused into his soul. Some of it was his own. He might have been focusing on his breakthrough over the past ten days, but he'd witnessed everything that had happened outside.

Zac had been unable to see anything outside the cultivation chamber where he'd spent the past ten days. The same wasn't true for his alter ego. Terea possessed a jade token that provided access to some of the base's formations, including surveillance. He'd seen how something went horribly wrong, prompting the unfamiliar army to flee. Borrowed memories had provided context, letting him realize they were a specialized unit of the Limitless Empire.

More importantly, Zac had seen how her father had chosen to stay behind to protect his daughter as she broke through. He'd seen his bitter struggle from beginning to end, how he sacrificed both lifeforce and his Inner World to buy time. Zac could tell that Kristvan Wendimar would soon die, even if he'd already dealt with the attackers who snuck inside.

"Don't look like that. We don't have much time," Kristvan said, the constant rumble of fierce attacks striking the barrier underlining his point. "I'll send you out of here in a moment, but there are a few things you need to know."

"We'll go together!" Zac urged, grasping Kristvan's hand.

"Space is sealed, but I shall create an opening. Now, listen up," Kristvan said, his voice hardening. Something deep-rooted in Terea's consciousness made Zac straighten his back as the tumultuous waves of emotions quelled.

"You are a Wendimar, which comes with both prestige and responsibility," Kristvan said as he took out an ancient-looking seal. "Our glory has long since faded, but the Empire has not forgotten the price in blood we paid to stabilize its foundations. Take this seal and go to the palace. Present it to a representative of the Grand King."

The words came faster and faster as Kristvan's face grew deathly white. He felt like he a punctured balloon, deflating before Zac's very eyes. It wasn't just him. The whole world was growing hollow and washed out like it had reached the end of its cycle.

"Our clan has used up most of our accumulated favor. However, we still hold one Limitless Merit. The past 87 generations of Clan Heads have held onto it to this day, waiting for an Eonic Seed will appear among our descendants. Seeing your performance just now, the wait was worth it. Use it and reforge your fate."

Zac suddenly found himself trapped as a rune glowing with spatial energy appeared before him. Zac recognized it with a glance. It was the same as the pattern Kristvan had spent every free moment carefully engraving. It created a mysterious dissonance that disentangled Zac's immediate surroundings with the rest of the world.

"Be careful, little Tea. The sky is darkening, but don't lose hope. The Empire will provide shade, as it always has," Krisvan said, his usually stern face softening as he hefted a box that made Zac's senses scream of mortal peril.

Great upheavals shook Zac's heart before an unbending determination almost managed to push Zac out of his own consciousness. Zac didn't fight back, willingly handing over control one final time. He felt his hands clasp as he deeply bowed in a ceremonial farewell.

 "Safe journeys, father!"

Kristvan nodded with a smile before disappearing. "You were always my greatest pride."

The next moment, his aura blazoned to life in the distance, far outside the final perimeter. He felt like a sun going supernova, and it wasn't far from the truth. Zac's eyes reddened, knowing the dying Monarch had ignited his very being, from soul to Inner World—all to create an opening in the domain formed from Nature's wrath that kept space sealed. A seed of unbridled destruction sprouted in the middle of Krisvan's aura, and the Teleportation rune lit up.

Zac faded away, and the world ended.