Defiance of the Fall Chapter 1425: Emperor of Man

From the secure overlook of his cavernous abode, Emir kept his steadfast watch, his inner turmoil mirroring the brooding sky above. Clouds heavy with trapped lightning weren’t the source of his unease. The inhabitants of the Pesvati Rift had long endured the savage tribulations unleashed by the limitless Heavens. Born under a crushing Karmic debt, they relied on the rift for only partial shielding against the inevitable backlash.

As the Zenith drew nearer, empowering the Heavens with greater force, the rift’s days were numbered. Should their schemes unfold perfectly, such endurance wouldn’t be necessary. No mere possibility—it absolutely had to succeed.

The idea of slinking back into obscurity after glimpsing true radiance was intolerable. Emir could never sentence his lineage and unborn heirs to scrape by in destitution until the Sixth Pillar’s rise. He’d sooner feed the escalating blaze than return defeated. Fortunately, that dire fate hadn’t struck yet, even as Fate conspired against them.

Disruptors existed who defied the scripted paths of existence—precisely what the Empire desperately required. If only their upheavals proved more foreseeable. Emir shifted his focus to the adjacent summit, now merely a void-shaped absence in reality. It had been completely shielded from his senses, enveloped within Fuxi’s Void.

Emir retrieved the modest rosary he had clutched since infancy. Its tarnished, rust-hued surface stirred equal measures of solace and sorrow. Breaking free from the rift demanded a steep price, even with memories and Karma sealed away until the Left Imperial Expanse. Countless thousands perished beneath that Karmic burden, his own father included.

The Heavens’ relentless cycle rebooted yet again, fresh origins overwriting faded conclusions. A full month of repetition had shredded Emir’s intricate strategies to ribbons. He scoured his mind, delving into ancient texts for any hint of direction. Zachary Atwood remained an enigma that baffled him at every turn. Though the Earth Sage had been forged successfully, such direct involvement lay far outside the script. In these fragile times, any Karmic ties carried devastating consequences.

Emir regretted not striking more boldly at their initial encounter. Deep down, though, he sensed it wouldn’t have altered the outcome. The fortune cloaking that man was as formidable as it was labyrinthine. A single errant choice might spawn eternal remorse.

Ancient scriptures offered no clarity. Preparations were deliberately shrouded in vagueness to keep the cosmos from slamming the gate shut. The urgent channel to the prince had gone silent. Either ensnared on the Bridge of Karma or shirking this chaos, the prince left Emir with no recourse, shouldering the full burden in solitude.

To interfere or remain passive? What scheme drove the Earth Sage and the Margrave to such bold involvement? Almost half the halos lingered, foundations still unset. They surely spotted some gain in Zachary Atwood’s climb to Peak D-grade, but gain toward what end? And did Emir figure in their schemes?

A fierce outburst from the concealed peak silenced the raging storm. An awe-inspiring aura saturated the realm, enforcing awed silence. Summits shrank in stature, compelled to lower their crests in submission. Rebellious clouds were driven earthward. It felt as if the stirred awareness rejected any station beneath the Heavenly Dao.

The Earth stirred from its primordial rest, imbuing the peaks with inexhaustible vigor. The void, already reshaped by the unseen force, now brimmed with newfound profundity. Faith, thick enough to manifest as golden streams, flooded the vales, fusing with the Void before cosmic taint could touch it.

The ancient array crushed the Heavens even further, to say nothing of the cultivators concealed atop the peaks. Beneath such irrefutable might, even stray thoughts withered away. Remarkably, Emir’s consciousness operated smoothly amid the iced desolation, thanks to his natal mantra activating instinctively. Arcane pulses from the River of Time’s abyss unlocked the remainder of his form, drawing a sharp intake of breath as sealed memories from endless lineages poured forth in revelation.

The shroud lifted, erasing all doubt. The Heavens shattered their bonds precisely as Emir stepped from the cavern, battered by torrents and razor winds. Driven like one enthralled, he scarcely noted his flawless barriers unraveling while dropping to his knees toward the shrouded mountain—or more truly, in reverence to the power it harbored.

“This unfilial descendant greets the Emperor! The flame yet burns, the purpose yet remains!” Emir cried out while his mantra started to draw inward.

For endless generations, the blood in their veins had caused suffering. Endless generations endured the trials, shouldering the Emperor’s Karma and his heavy load. It was all leading to this moment.

“Glory Eternal!” Emir bellowed while the mantra drew out every bit of his blood, refining it into its pure essence.

Nothing as stunning had ever met Emir’s eyes. Gazing upon that droplet felt like beholding the Limitless Empire in its utmost splendor. It brimmed with boundless potential and promise, breaking free from the Heavenly Dao’s bindings. This was the elixir allowing civilizations to shed death’s chains, something the Heavens refused to tolerate.

Suddenly, the tribulation clouds halted their attempts to flee the Margrave’s time labyrinth. Heaven ignored the concealed peak as well. Unfathomable rage locked onto that lone blood droplet, causing the clouds to swell beyond anything Emir had witnessed. Even his forebear hadn’t provoked such frenzy while Defending his Dao.

A mere thunderclap would have pulverized Emir to nothing without the mountains’ shield of Imperial Fate. Sadly, fate denied him the sight of what followed. Exhausted completely, his sight dimmed rapidly. A smile crossed his face, glad he’d avoided intruding on the adjacent peak during the previous month.

Zachary Atwood truly served as the vital catalyst for transformation. Just a fragment of the Emperor’s likeness could release the Holy Blood. United at last, they ignited the signal, announcing the Left Imperial Palace’s resurgence. The escalating disaster overhead belonged to others now. He deserved his repose.

Emir envisioned sacred rains revitalizing barren soils, an Emperor bearing three visages. He dreamed of history and now entwined in a tangled web of Karma. Peaks of heights and abyssal depths merged as one, fulfilling age-old decrees. Balances tipped as Life and Death fused into Chaos.

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Through the Earth’s veins, the rain raced toward the Left Imperial Expanse’s heart, bestowing favors along its route. The Heavens chased fiercely. Detecting a long-lost fragment of their own, they yearned to retrieve it. Capturing the raindrop would let them trace its origin.

Deeper the raindrop dove, steered by the Void. Massive lightning pillars, spanning a thousand miles, ripped trails across existence, determined to pursue it to the world’s very edges. Heavens and Man clashed in a fierce contest of resolve, neither yielding an inch.

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Endless and profound hatred scarred reality’s core, warping cause and effect while dismantling natural laws. Endless darkness persisted as the Cosmos abandoned impartiality in its fight to endure. As the Dao of Space crumbled, distances lost all relevance. Space Gates spanning realms and immense spans continually appeared, granting entry to Heaven’s wrathful forces.

Warriors and creatures gnashed teeth at the Empire’s final strongholds, those sinful cornerstones. Cosmic sorrows clouded the attackers’ minds, imprinting a single unyielding fact: the Heavenly Dao would shatter without halting the foe, dragging all cultivation paths into oblivion. Old rivals now battled side by side to topple the Mad Emperor and his wicked realm.

Joanna struggled to draw breath. The Dao ebbed away, and ambient energies rebelled against her. Power within her fought fiercely to flee, while surrounding remnants swiftly became deadly venom. An arm and eye lost, foes endless—yet she pressed on.

Her devoted troops had perished, resisting to their final breaths amid the ceaseless enemy waves. Energy depleted, they offered their bodies to persist. Bodies spent, souls ignited. When the field extracted everything else, their cores were given to endure moments more.

Joanna’s spear pierced a winged tiger’s skull, breaching the regal rune on its brow. Its death cry burst her eardrums, letting a cunning swordsman lunge. Warmth grazed her neck as she barely evaded decapitation.

Another swing hurtled toward her in an instant. Joanna released her spear embedded in the tiger’s skull with no other option. Using the stump of her left arm, she shoved the blade away right before it hit home, exposing the swordsman’s guard wide open. Her lone hand thrust ahead, clawing out his eyes in a brutal swipe. The man’s howls shifted to a gurgling choke as a little dirk drove into his throat.

Joanna lurched onward. While dispatching her foe, an arrow had stabbed through her thigh. Crimson mud splashed as she stamped firmly on the earth to steady herself, then wrested the sword from the corpse’s grasp. It would serve until she seized another spear.

No urge to retreat filled her mind. Where could she flee anyway? Slaughter hemmed her in on all sides, just as it had for weeks now. Joanna tuned out her body’s cries begging her to collapse and recuperate. Halting meant death, yet her Emperor commanded her survival. Each stride she made, each gasp she drew, pulled Joanna nearer to some revelation.

A beat passed before Joanna noticed no foe obstructed her way. Bloodshot eyes scanned about, grasping that the starlit battlefield and Imperial Army were dissolving. Her enemies lacked such mercy; they melted outright, merging into a vast ocean of blood and grudge.

Joanna watched in silence as her master ascended from the pool’s heart. Indra Eyler offered no reason for truncating the trial early. Her stare drifted afar, face angled toward the Hollow Court. Joanna recognized it, having mirrored that gaze in her scant breaks since reaching the Indomitable Court.

“Don’t blame me, child,” the Godking finally uttered. “This is the doing of the one you so stubbornly cling to.”

“What?” Joanna said, gazing up at her master in shock. What had Zac done this time? “I’m sure it was uninten—"

“Nine courts, nine undertakings. The tasks were not difficult; they were impossible. That didn’t stop us. If Cosmos couldn’t contain our goals, then we’d change the Cosmos,” Indra said, facing Joanna again. “The Indomitable Court’s mission is both the easiest and hardest. We fight. We cut down the enemies of the Empire. Even if that enemy is the Heavens themselves.”

“What does that—"

“Child, bear witness. This spear is why I was sent here, away from the Emperor’s side at such a critical time,” Indra said as the sea of gore coalesced into a crimson spear.

Joanna trembled at the aura infused in the spear. Beyond the grudge of billions of slain foes, it captured the boundless ambitions of the Limitless Empire. Glory forged upon endless strife. Shattering the old order via rivers of blood.

“After suppressing the Eight Directions and opening your inner gates, you need to excavate your True Extremity. This is the Extremity of Man,” Indra proclaimed as energies surged until reality brimmed with power. “One day you will remember this spear of mine. At that time, prepare yourself, because it means Armageddon has arrived.”

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Conversations hushed. Observers along the shores gravely eyed the Left Imperial Expanse. Beneath its serene facade lurked massive shifts in Heavenly Dao, and flux heralded chances. Guessing the youths’ advances was mere diversion before the true contest began, with initial omens surfacing far earlier than expected. Even recluses from reality’s deepest layers edged closer, drawn by unforeseen promise.

Blessed Fate inwardly sighed after probing Karma. The whiff of Eternity from the Ultom Courts proved a potent temptation; few among the assembly would likely bite. No matter the talent, the path lay too treacherous. The Left Imperial Palace hadn’t fully surfaced yet, shielded by primeval arrays. Ultom’s ascension merely charted routes to its courts. They’d need their own might to breach them.

Such turmoil stirred no waves in Blessed Fate’s mind. Patient as the shadow-dwellers might be, how could they rival the Buddhist Sangha? The Era of Order brimmed with the finest prospects yet, but nothing more. Nirvana awaited inevitably at the Terminus, be it soon or late. Not even Laondio Evrodok could overturn the Eternal Dharma.

Blessed Fate focused more on the odd familiarity woven into the intricate web of ancient Karma. Its omnipresence signaled cosmic intent, though the purport stayed elusive.

“Curious, indeed,” Blessed Fate said with a smile, glancing at his neighbor. “Does benefactor have any insights for this poor monk?”

“When have I ever?” the reticent fisherman grunted, his hood unable to conceal the faint scowl twisting his features.

A far-off gong echoed solely for Blessed Fate, overpowering the Stillsun ancestor’s taunt. The Buddha pivoted, as Karma abruptly rent the shroud. Sudden insight fractured the serenity of Blessed Fate’s Dao Heart, unleashing a tempest fierce enough to nearly dissolve his avatar. Memory at last resurfaced. After endless years, he grasped the source of his lingering unease.

The Peak of Progress, the Emperor of ! A grave anomaly plagued the First Mountain.

Transmitting a warning back yielded nothing. His mind crumbled into stellar debris, his resolve worn away by the concealed force. With a mere notion, a billion avatars sprang forth, scattered to every nook of the Cosmos. Each bore a fragment of forbidden wisdom in a frantic bid to safeguard the secret. Yet every one succumbed to an unyielding force survivable only by Buddha.

“Something wrong?” A fiendish chuckle from his left stabbed deeper into his heart.

“Namo Amituofo,” Blessed Fate intoned. The chant achieved nothing.

In the continent’s farthest south, a blood-red pillar surged skyward, quelling the gale and stray musings. Divine shields ascended along the coast, guarding against the razor keenness that surpassed even the System’s restraints. The Cosmos grew still, the seas grew still, and the Heart grew still.

The chance had slipped away. True to form, the ancient allies lurking in darkness held back. Emerging now would paint you as prey for both Heaven and Earth. They had endured with patience for eons; a bit more delay meant nothing. Blessed Fate mirrored them. What must happen, would happen.

Still, the gloom in his heart refused to lift.