Defiance of the Fall Chapter 1432: Mirror Realm

Zac remained suspended in the air for several minutes, absorbing the majestic panorama and the remarkably untainted Void. As he observed, he began to notice distinctions between this place and his Void Treasure, as well as the upper world he hailed from. It appeared that Fuxi Halls was constructed akin to the world disks found in Twilight Harbor, with one facet dedicated to the Dao and the other to the Void.

Unlike the world above, the boundaries of this memory domain were clearly discernible. The sea of Imperial Faith and the memory lanterns were not situated within the memory itself but rather draped overhead like a vast canopy. Consequently, Zac could not perceive the external atmosphere, nor ascertain if his present location corresponded to the hidden plateau of [Fuxi Mountain Gate].

The majority of the lanterns remained stationary, content to be nourished by the incandescent sea. Those that detached and merged with the memory domain carried fragments of the flames with them. The potent Imperial Faith was assimilated by the mountains the instant it entered the memory, preventing its dissipation by the Void Energy.

The intricate runes adorning the mountain slopes mirrored the patterns found on [Fuxi Mountain Gate], blanketing every surface from summit to base. They presented no gaps, unlike the doorway Zac had utilized with his Void Treasure. Although visually similar, their function diverged from that of the [Fuxi Mountain Gate].

The immense reservoirs of Void Energy did not originate from the Void itself; rather, they were drawn from the ether by the mountains. Nearly imperceptible bubbles drifted above the peaks, varying in size from that of Zac’s head to nearly engulfing the mountains. While they appeared close, they felt profoundly distant, as if viewing a mere projection of the actual objects.

Abruptly, a powerful surge emanated from a distance. A sphere had reached its saturation point. The mountain runes below dimmed, the sense of spatial separation vanished, and the bubble burst like a smoke-filled balloon. Half of the accumulated power directly refilled the ambient energy, while the other half transformed into five formidable Void Rivers that flowed for several miles before vanishing without a trace.

These rivers, however, did not disappear without consequence. Numerous dimensional rifts materialized in their wake, forming a dark trail imbued with a sense of finality. The Void served as both the catalyst and the remedy. The abundant Void Energy mended the rifts and cleansed the realm of its desolate emptiness. The area stabilized, and a new bubble began to form above the mountain.

Rather than an naturally formed world aligned with the Void, this mirror realm possessed a distinctly artificial quality, reminiscent of the Hidden Earth Abode. Naturally, comparing the two was akin to juxtaposing a palace with a humble hut. Despite the evident traces of the Empire’s influence surrounding him, Zac observed no signs of actual cultivators. He remained uncertain if this place was indeed linked to the quarantine.

The mountain range’s configuration precisely matched that of the upper world, yet no grand palaces graced its summits. Furthermore, no evidence of destruction was present, save for the sporadic dimensional tears. And truly, who would willingly inhabit such a perilous environment?

Based on the insights Zac had acquired from Daoist Hidden Earth’s records, ordinary Void Cultivators differed significantly from him. Even Hidden Earth would not have favored dwelling within these mountains. The ancient Void Cultivator would have found it more conducive to cultivate on the opposing surface, limiting his engagement with the Void to the siphoning of filtered Void Energy streams that reached that area.

Nevertheless, Zac could only perceive a fraction of the complete panorama from his position at the valley's floor. It was possible that individuals tasked with the maintenance of this realm were convened elsewhere. Zac ascended into the air, seizing the opportunity to conduct several tests. Verun grumbled reluctantly as she was brought forth, but channeling a flow of Dao through the axe shielded it from the detrimental effects of the environment.

The axelight generated by [Evolutionary Edge] proved less resilient. Merely extending the blade met with strenuous opposition, and it flickered out of existence after a journey of one hundred meters. Zac’s immunity to the Void did not extend to his techniques, and his bloodline could not compel his Dao-based skills to behave like his Void Talents when activated in conventional realms. His techniques were simply suppressed and eroded by the pervasive influence of the Void.

[Force of the Void] offered a practical solution. His abilities functioned as intended when channeled through the Bloodline Talent, though their potency was diminished to approximately 80% of their original strength. In contrast to typical cultivators who had to fully withstand the Void, this presented a distinct advantage.

Zac ascended past the mountain peaks, continuing his trajectory until he reached the outer perimeter of the memory domain. The elevated vantage point revealed two points of interest in the distance, but Zac had a different objective prior to investigating them. After exchanging a few messages with his other half, Zac traversed the boundary, formally departing from the memory domain of Fuxi Halls.

A torrent of recollections surged into Zac’s consciousness, the sheer volume inflicting a throbbing headache. While the merging of memories didn't inflict the agonizing pain of his emergence from the Peregrine Ocean, it took Zac nearly a full minute to process everything. There was no alternative, as his bodies had remained unsynced since prior to his breakthrough.

Integrating the insights he had gained in the heat of the moment could be considered the definitive culmination of his breakthrough. The rudimentary communication via mental tendrils and the exchange of correspondence through [Purity of the Void] paled in comparison to reliving the experience once more.

Zac had no desire to remain in the external environment, and not solely due to the blistering heat radiating from the Imperial Flames. As was his custom, he retrieved the Primo’s feather. He had vaguely sensed a stirring within it upon his exit, though the reaction was far less pronounced than what he had witnessed earlier. It was also cooling itself, leaving Zac uncertain of its implications.

The issue likely wasn't a deficiency in energy reserves. It was as if the feather had detected something before losing the signal. Were these signals intermittent, or had the Primo’s treasure relocated? Should he bide his time and await its potential return?

Zac cast his gaze downwards towards the mountain range spread out below. The Void Orbs appeared unchanged from when he had first emerged, confirming that time had not advanced following his departure. How could it, with Ramses serving as a temporal anchor? Nevertheless, it would be imprudent to take anything for granted, so Zac returned after conducting a final survey of the vicinity. There were no indications of the mountain gate or the stone plateau of the First People.

The acrid scent of death permeated Zac’s robes upon re-entering the Void-attuned memory domain. The expanse of Imperial Flames could not obscure the reality. The realm beyond the inferno mirrored the landscape observed outside the memory domain encompassing the welcoming plaza, a location suspected to be the remnants of the enigmatic Ninth Hell.

Evidently, the sea of Imperial Flame functioned as a protective membrane, aiding in the preservation of Fuxi Halls’ peculiar memory domain. Zac could not fathom the memory lanterns enduring prolonged exposure to the suffocating desolation of the Ninth Hell. This, however, did not guarantee complete isolation of his current position from the space contained within [Fuxi Mountain Gate].

Zac was already beginning to formulate a hypothesis based on his gathered information. The unification of the Void Mountain with a thriving Primal Heaven was an endeavor of immense scope. One represented a domain of absolute emptiness, while the other was a continent proximate to the Grand Dao. They could be regarded as diametric opposites, and the conflict within the hollow was the predictable consequence of attempting to bridge such extremes. The Empire must have employed a more subtle strategy, involving multiple stages. Rather than establishing a direct connection, the integration was achieved incrementally.

Initially, the Hollow Court linked the Left Imperial Expanse to the Lower Planes. Subsequently, they established an intermediary point utilizing Imperial Faith and the Inverse Peak—the mirror dimension where he found himself. This served as a cosmic filter facilitating a reciprocal exchange. Void permeated Dao, and Dao flowed through Void.

The final stage involved the [Fuxi Mountain Gate], of which Zac surmised there were multiple instances. These acted as the ultimate gateway, with the true Void lying beyond. This theory would elucidate the Void Treasure’s reaction to his surroundings. The [Fuxi Mountain Gate] was presumably intended to interface with the grand formation constructed by the encircling mountains. It might even function as its central array.

Zac harbored no intention of returning it to its rightful place. It was his now, rightfully acquired. It would hardly benefit the Empire in its present condition anyway. Furthermore, the absence of a key component was not the sole vulnerability observed within the arrangement.

He felt confident that the numerous dimensional rifts were not part of the original design. The memory domain was in a deteriorated condition. Its fundamental nature had been compromised by the very Void it was created to contain. On the other side lay the encroaching decay of the Ninth Hell, where circumstances had clearly taken a detrimental turn.

These rifts could potentially be interpreted as an automated failsafe. Whenever the Void exerted excessive influence, the fabric of space would rupture, unleashing hostile Dao. The Dao and Void would then neutralize each other, lessening the burden to manageable levels. However, this process was exceptionally inefficient, and the Empire ought to possess more sophisticated methods for maintaining equilibrium.

Zac perceived that the current situation presented an opportunity for latent potential—akin to the invasion encountered in the Mercurial Courts. Lacking any understanding of how to capitalize on this notion or whether it pertained to his objective of securing the Primo’s treasure, Zac directed his attention towards the two prominent landmarks he had previously identified.

Nestled amongst its towering companions, one mountain, though small, pulsed with an extraordinary spirituality. A thick veil of scriptures and shimmering golden runes encircled it, hinting at the vast quantities of Void Energy it contained. Even without specific guidance, this mountain appeared to be a highly promising candidate for the restoration of the [Fuxi Mountain Gate].

However, Zac's attention was drawn to a second point of interest—a solitary statue dominating an immense valley. Significantly closer, it took Zac merely an hour to traverse the distance. Though only a few hundred meters in height, the statue projected an imposing aura, dwarfing the nearby mountain.

The figure was clad in flowing robes adorned with enigmatic runes. These symbols bore no resemblance to the known scripts of the Limitless Empire, nor did they align with the natural patterns formed by the Dao. Yet, a sense of familiarity gnawed at Zac, causing him frustration as the secrets held within these markings remained tantalizingly out of reach.

The immortalized man was captured in a peculiar stance. His right hand was raised high, palm facing the heavens. Hovering above it was a sun meticulously crafted from pure Imperial Faith, radiating unmistakable echoes of Destiny. Zac had to quell his burgeoning avarice upon realizing the statue possessed over a million points of Imperial Merit in the form of Imperial Destiny. While acquiring treasures from the earth was one thing, desecrating a sacred landmark was another entirely.

In stark contrast, the statue's left hand was extended in the opposite direction, palm facing downward. Beneath it, an inverted mountain rotated silently. This formation was an almost perfect resemblance to Zac's own [Void Mountain], notably absent were the golden runes that embellished the surrounding peaks.

Despite his earnest efforts, Zac found himself unable to discern the statue's facial features. This was not due to erosion from the Void, nor was it an intentional artistic ambiguity. Zac felt certain the features were present, yet his mind seemed incapable of processing them. He instinctively understood the potential consequences of probing further with Haro's vines or attempting to create a mold.

Apart from the inverted mountain, the statue was fashioned from white marble, seemingly detached from both the Dao and the Void. Despite this, it emanated a profound aura that permeated the entire valley. The presence was not menacing, and the impression it conveyed differed significantly from the imperial architecture Zac had encountered previously.

The statue lacked the imperious bearing of a conqueror or the glorious radiance typically associated with objects touched by Imperial Fate. While its general design echoed the worn statuette Zac had discovered deep within the Void Star temple, the sentiment conveyed was distinct. The previous artifact exuded celestial fury, aimed at challenging the Heavens and their inherent limitations, positioning itself as a weapon poised at the Terminus, intent on shattering the chains of fate.

Conversely, the landmark before Zac radiated a refined, otherworldly aura, detached from worldly concerns. It spoke of ancient secrets and profound mystery, devoid of the ambition Zac might have expected. Had the statue depicted figures like Laondio or Karz, the pose would have conveyed a radically different meaning—one of seizing both the Dao and the Void, elevating themselves above both.

The figure in the statue, however, made no attempt to command either force. Instead, the pose suggested an outreach, a desire to communicate, to explore their fundamental nature, and to serve as a bridge between opposing facets of reality. After weeks of mounting curiosity, Zac finally felt he had a face, or at least a form, to associate with the enigmatic name Fuxi.

Since arriving at Hollow Court and joining Fuxi Halls, Zac had frequently recalled his encounter with Wal’Zo, Ultom’s ancient Realmspirit. Wal’Zo had mentioned that across the innumerable epochs since the First Era, only eight cultivators had achieved sufficient mastery over the Void to leave an indelible mark upon the Void Mountain. The possibility lingered that Fuxi might be among them.

If not, Fuxi undoubtedly ranked among the most prominent Void Cultivators of the Era of Order. Who else could have orchestrated such a creation?

Regrettably, this remained the extent of Zac's knowledge. Even the members of Hollow Court seemed to possess little information. The only certainty Zac had managed to establish was that Fuxi was an individual, likely a profoundly wise sage from the Limitless Empire. While not directly affiliated with the Hollow Court, Fuxi must have provided consultation during its construction.

Zac remained uncertain whether to feel relieved or disappointed that his encounter with Fuxi materialized only as a likeness. Despite upgrading his bloodline to C-grade, Zac's cultivation of Void remained a work in progress. Although he had gained some initial insights into the Voids pertinent to his path—specifically, the Voids of Life, Death, and Conflict—his comprehension lacked systematic integration with his overall cultivation journey.

Encountering a true Void Cultivator, one possessing genuine mastery rather than someone like Daoist Hidden Earth who merely mimicked without comprehension, would present a significant opportunity. A few words of sage advice could potentially resolve the majority of Zac’s lingering confusion. Questions about the nature of the Void, its origins, and the method of cultivating it within a world intrinsically shaped by the Dao, would likely find answers from Fuxi, if anyone in this era possessed such knowledge.

Simultaneously, Zac’s entanglement with the Limitless Empire had already burgeoned beyond his comfort level. Continuing on this trajectory would inevitably draw him into the inevitable maelstrom that would accompany the Fifth Pillar’s ascension. Whether the Limitless Empire succeeded in breaking free from their dream or if their grand ambitions were once again thwarted held little personal consequence for Zac; his primary desire was to remain uninvolved.

He had, of course, contemplated the alternative. What if he ceased resisting the currents of fate and his own birthright? Depending on the unfolding circumstances, a reborn Limitless Empire might offer the Atwood Empire the crucial protective umbrella needed in the ensuing years. Given his heritage and his position as the Terminal Son of the Imperial Chalice, integrating into their ranks should not pose an insurmountable challenge.

While this notion appeared logical on the surface, Zac felt compelled to avoid such a path unless he was left with no viable alternative. He could readily envision the Multiverse’s reaction to the empire's resurgence. Emerging factions would undoubtedly resist the resurgence of an ancient dynasty aiming to reclaim its former dominion, potentially even vying for control over the System itself. Such an event would undoubtedly ignite a colossal, cosmos-spanning conflict, with the Left Imperial Expanse at its epicenter.

The nascent Atwood Empire lacked the strength and maturity to endure a war of such magnitude. Their best course of action would be to retreat to a secluded corner of the Multiverse, there to quietly accumulate power. More importantly, a deep, primal voice within Zac’s soul vehemently opposed this idea. Aligning himself with the Limitless Empire meant abandoning his own unique journey.

Accepting their boons during the trial was one thing; it was a matter of mutual benefit, a careful balance maintained through equivalent exchange. But how could he possibly perfect his own Void Road while simultaneously becoming another devoted follower of Laondio? He would inevitably end up like the ruined Realmlords, drawn to the Emperor’s ambition like moths to a fatal flame. His personal quest to find Kenzie would be supplanted by a far grander, empire-driven undertaking.

No inscriptions or markers accompanied the imposing statue, offering no explanation for its erection or intended function. Zac dismissed any notion that it was merely a display of vanity or a tribute to past service. The effigy possessed the distinct aura of a linchpin, crucial for stabilizing the entire mirror realm, a belief further supported by the immense currents of Destiny swirling around it.

An hour dedicated to meticulous examination yielded nothing but an agonizing mental dissonance. The intricate runes invaded his thoughts whenever he closed his eyes, swirling and taunting his lack of understanding. Zac’s patience finally evaporated. He turned away from the statue, activating his Void State in an attempt to quell the incessant mental chatter. Ironically, the outcome was the direct opposite.

Viewed through the perspective of the Void Road, a concealed stratum of the chaotic runes became visible. Resounding echoes, originating from the deepest epochs of time, converged to weave an incomprehensibly ancient tapestry. Zac inhaled sharply in sudden comprehension. The Decaying Death of the Ninth Hell, the Primo, and Fuxi’s Void.

It was all interconnected.