Defiance of the Fall Chapter 1391: Fateseizer

“The tracking sigil vanished alongside her illusionary realm. We can still follow her trail via the embedded energy, but…” Jimok trailed off, a frown deepening on his face.

“Lodge Island is in a state of flux; the interference is overwhelming.” Royce grimaced, his expression pained as he struggled to regain mastery over his own physical form. “Forget it. Just notify the others as a precaution. What is our status?”

“The overlap remains fractured and volatile,” Jimok reported. “Without the guiding beacon, we are restricted to minimum capacity—and that is only after we finish repairs. To make matters worse, a secondary ritual has utterly failed, resulting in the total destruction of that node.”

“We anticipated there would be complications,” Royce muttered, his internal organs still churning in protest.

He considered himself fortunate that his “Guild Master” had chosen the path of caution. For a fleeting second, she appeared ready to abandoned all restraint, and Royce lacked the remaining strength to survive a Monarch’s final, desperate explosion of power. He had already been pushed to release a restriction on his [First Seal]—a decision that always carried a heavy price.

“What about the remaining three?” Royce inquired.

“Two are successfully active. The Fifth Locus requires another hour for synchronization. No further issues have been reported, and the teams should have heightened their alertness following our setbacks.”

“Will that suffice to draw back the curtain?”

“It will, though the transition will be turbulent,” Jimok confirmed.

“Good. Splitting our forces allowed us to avoid total annihilation, but it has left us spread thin. Once the contingency is deployed, the survivors must focus on recovery. I want it functional before the Fifth Locus is online,” Royce commanded, exhaling in relief as his body finally stabilized. Noticing his subordinate lingering, he lifted an eyebrow. “Is there something else?”

“How… comprehensive should my report be?” Jimok asked, hesitating.

“Simply state there was a traitor,” Royce replied, pausing before adding, “Actually, send the full details to Descartes. We cannot afford the repercussions if he discovers we concealed such significant prey from him.”

“Descartes…” Jimok whispered, his voice tinged with dread. “I will see to it. He likely finished his business with the first Sealbearer by now.”

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“Incompetent, every last one of them,” Descartes growled, watching the unstable pillar of light flicker and die in the distance. “Is that where you are lurking?”

The moment his attention wavered, a jagged blade shard buried itself in Descartes’ back. It was propelled by a dying man’s final reserves of desperation, aiming straight for his heart. Violent sword lights erupted within his chest as the shard fractured into a thousand needles to maximize the internal carnage. Descartes merely snorted, a primal roar echoing from the core of his soul.

The shards shattered instantly, the intrusive foreign Dao was smothered, and a wet, choking sound from beneath Descartes’ boot signaled the end of his target. The puncture and the internal trauma vanished in an instant, as if the entire strike had been a mere hallucination.

The six shattered blades scattered across the clearing dissolved as the light faded from the outsider’s eyes. Descartes felt the surge of Imperial Fate flowing into his Fateseizer Seal, yet he still pulverized the corpse with a heavy stomp. These outsiders possessed too many hidden gambits to take unnecessary chances. Just as he finished, a token resting within his [First Seal] began to vibrate.

“Hm?” Descartes mused, deciphering the data transmitted through the First Era’s Gift network. “Another target?”

He looked back and forth between the ruined pillar and a growing sandstorm that was beginning to swallow the mist at the island's heart. After a moment of indecision, Descartes broke into a sprint toward the storm. He was loath to abandon his current hunt, but it was a minor setback. After all, weren't they all converging on the same destination?

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Confusion and bitterness clouded Zorm’s eyes as the final sparks of life vanished. Simultaneously, the crimson hue on the [Desperation’s End] scroll intensified, marking another soul's entry into the wheel of reincarnation. Zorm Hastor’s Inner World had been cleaved in two, causing his already fragile soul to disintegrate under the massive backlash.

Zac delivered another heavy blow to the fallen Monarch’s skull just to be certain. A third strike reduced the body to a gory mess, leaving behind only a Peak D-grade [Mercurial Sack], a set of D-grade armor that had nearly shattered when the altar blew, and one of Zorm’s eyes. Zac grabbed the loot before the intensifying spatial ripples could swallow them.

The clash with Zorm Hastor had lasted less than two minutes, yet the win was neither simple nor without cost. Zac and Idiche had made good use of the hours leading up to Esmeralda’s gambit. Idiche had shared every detail regarding the Hastor Society and Zorm himself. The Hastor Clan followed a peculiar path known as Illusory Ancestry, which bore a resemblance to his human side’s [Conformation of Supremacy].

They cultivated a bond with a fictional ancestor, eventually tapping into that entity's power much like a beast’s bloodline. The difference lay in the fact that this provided a permanent enhancement to every facet of their Cultivation, unlike Zac’s temporary skill. This method allowed their lineage to channel various legendary beings. For Zorm, it was the one-eyed titan whose very aura had rendered Zac's [Eye of Desolation] nearly useless.

This path offered genuine, lasting strength. One could even enhance their innate talent by refining the bloodline of these ancient entities. The downside was that the Hastor Clan had only successfully conceptualized four ancestors capable of providing real Cultivation gains. Idiche claimed these were modeled after actual Innate Existences from the dawn of the Era.

These Primordials were incredibly powerful but lacked complexity, usually relying on sheer physical dominance. It wasn't that they were unintelligent, but rather a reflection of their era. The Dao was unrefined and the energy was chaotic, which did not support intricate Cultivation or subtle paths. Because the Hastor descendants had to mimic these ancestors, they gradually became more brutish themselves.

Even Zorm, a premier talent of his generation, fought with the same raw style Zac had used before mastering technique. He relied on durability and overwhelming force, and the influence of the corruption had only made his movements more predictable. Illusory Ancestry was a path that traded potential for speed, which was how the Hastor Clan maintained a steady supply of mid-rank cultivators for the Mercurial Court.

Zac never looked down on their path, and his caution was justified. He had anticipated Zorm’s final strike, which was devoid of any finesse. Yet, even his Void-bolstered technique wasn't agile enough to completely evade it. The blow carried such crushing weight that the secret pathways of the Void were forcibly closed.

His defensive layers were shredded like paper by the glancing hit; the bloody stump where his left shoulder used to be was a grim reminder that his body wasn't yet tough enough to tank such a strike directly.

Fortunately, losing an appendage wasn't a permanent disaster at his level. A new arm was already beginning to sprout, fueled by his own vitality without needing to tap into Creation Energy. While the growth was slow, it would accelerate once he cleared the lingering energy from the wound. Zac felt no rush to force the healing.

The remnants of Zorm’s primal energy and aggressive Dao continued to fuel the ancient Killing Intent, allowing Zac to harvest more strands of refined intent. Defeating Zorm individually had proven twice as productive as slaughtering the entire pack of drakes, and the benefits were still mounting.

Zac wanted nothing more than to find a quiet place to heal and process his gains, but that had to wait. A spatial rift nearby had expanded enough for him to pass through, and he slipped inside, veiled by the fading remnants of [Eye of Desolation]. A sense of accomplishment washed over him as he surveyed the crumbling landscape of Zorm’s Inner World.

He had achieved it. He had taken down a Monarch in single combat. Granted, Zorm was hindered by backlash and a lack of intel, but Zac had faced his own hurdles. He had spent significant effort keeping Zorm’s five subordinates at bay. Furthermore, several invaders had attempted to breach his domain until Zorm’s wild attacks drove them off.

Zac had even puppeted the five lieutenants during their struggle against the chains of [Eye of Desolation], positioning them to coincide with his primary fight. Consequently, he had used Zorm’s own power to execute all five at once, saving himself the trouble. This also provided him the chance to scavenge Zorm’s Inner World before it dissolved into the Spiritual Sea.

A haze of rot and corruption greeted him on the other side of the spatial gate. Below lay the shattered remains of a miniature world radiating the raw, ancient energies of the Era’s start—clearly the byproduct of Illusory Ancestry. The realm's failing spatial integrity suggested it was on the verge of total collapse.

Zac’s Void-infused strike with [Desperation’s End] against the continent’s core had triggered the destruction, but the landscape already showed signs of prior instability. The world felt unrefined. There hadn't been sufficient time to anchor it after Zorm's breakthrough, making it far more fragile than the world of a seasoned Monarch.

Streaks of corruption ran through the entire continent like veins, centering on a lone mountain peak in the middle of the Inner World. This contamination went deeper than a simple last-minute power boost from the Lost Era. Zorm Hastor was clearly an agent of the other side, having cultivated with this corruption from the very beginning.

Zac had materialized at the center of the realm. He sprinted toward the mountain, dodging violent bursts of corruption spraying from its fissures. Zorm hadn't invested much in the infrastructure of his Inner World. There were no grand palaces or complex arrays, so Zac pushed through the leaking rot to reach the mountain's primary cavern.

Inside was a massive cultivation grotto capable of housing a small tribe. Zac scanned the area with his Soul Sense and moved with a burst of speed. He found two lifeless forms in a living area. One was a replica of Zorm; the other was a young woman with an Early D-grade Cultivation.

The clone was merely an avatar Zorm used for internal management—a puppet that ceased to function the moment its master’s soul was extinguished. The woman showed signs of spiritual poisoning that had wiped out her soul. Her serene expression suggested she had taken it voluntarily. Such was the grim reality for those residing in Inner Worlds; their existence was tied entirely to the Monarch who sheltered them.

Zac ransacked the bodies and the dwelling but found no sign of his true objective—orders from the enemy or clues about their plans. The infiltrators apparently didn't keep written records of their home world. It made sense; high-level cultivators possessed perfect recall and had no need for notes.

Refusing to leave empty-handed, Zac pushed [Void Zone] to its maximum before entering the chamber that served as the anchor for the Lost Plane’s Dao. The corruption here was as thick as the heart of a corrupted zone, and Zac felt his focus wavering. By pushing [Purity of the Void] and [Immutability of Eoz] to their breaking points, Zac examined a well in the center of the room.

This wasn't a portal to the Lost Plane, but rather a setup where the malevolent energy was used as a fuel source. An array around the edge still held faint traces of Imperial Faith. The seal had been breached to tap into the well, but Zac noted signs of corruption spreading throughout the Inner World from long before the battle.

Zac surmised the setup functioned like the prison for the Remnants, which refined their energy to aid his own growth. This specific array, however, couldn't purge the corruption. It only kept the infusion at a tolerable level. Consequently, the rot had become foundational to Zorm’s Cultivation; removing it would have likely destroyed his power entirely.

A glint at the bottom of the well caught his eye. Zac sent down several chains, eventually hauling up four head-sized crystals: Pseudo C-grade Corruption Crystals. His mind began to reel as whispers invaded his thoughts, bypassing even [Void Zone]. He quickly boxed and stored the crystals, then severed the tainted links of [Love’s Bond].

Unable to withstand the aura any longer, Zac retreated to the outer chambers. His search had only taken seconds, so he continued his sweep. Esmeralda could reach him if things turned dire on her end. A scent of blood led him to a side hall, where he discovered the remains of several Early Beast Emperors.

A tribal ritual array was siphoning the essence from the meat, forming a volatile pill of Fiend Energy in the center. The pill disintegrated when the room was disturbed, venting its power into the air. Zac ignored the waste, focusing instead on the array itself. He was relieved to find it could be dismantled without much trouble.

Any C-grade array was a prize, and this one was perfect for Zac’s needs. Based on the carcasses, the array could likely refine Fiend Pills from almost any Beast Emperor. He didn't need his own Inner World to use it; he could set it up on Earth or the Yphelion for now.

The array was a great find, but his search for intelligence grew more frantic as he stripped the remaining rooms like a plague of locusts. Unfortunately, the final haul was mediocre. Zorm possessed no Spatial Treasures beyond a Peak D-grade [Mercurial Sack], and his stored wealth was nothing compared to Zac’s own hoard.

Zorm must have spent everything to achieve Monarchy. What remained had been invested into production and his personal chambers. Aside from the pill room, four other grottos were designed to refine C-grade materials. Since he had only recently advanced, there were no finished products for Zac to take.

A low tremor signaled that his time was up. There was nothing left to find, and he had already memorized the damaged runes of the corruption well. If Zorm had some secret insurance against death, it was hidden too well for a quick search. Zac wasn't too worried about missing something small.

His token hadn't updated his status since he arrived on the island, but their progress so far had to be worth a fortune in merit. Even if Zorm had survived through some trick, his power would be reduced to nothing.

Large portions of the continent were being devoured by subspace ruptures as Zac exited the mountain. Notably, these tears seemed to reject the Lost Plane’s taint, keeping it from polluting the wider cosmos. The release of all that concentrated corruption caused a spike in the local Dead Dao, and Zac quickly retreated back to the twin peaks.

His active skills had lapsed during the search, and he finally saw the state of the valley. The air was heavy with moisture again, the sky was dark with clouds, and rain had begun to fall. Only the fading remnants of the magic circle in the sky held back a total deluge.

Sevona was reclaiming the mountain, driving the Lost Plane’s influence deep into a newly created gorge. The energy venting from Zorm’s dying Inner World was being funneled into a black pool at the bottom. The sight alone sent a chill down Zac’s spine, and he turned away.

The area was empty of bodies and active combat, yet the air was thick with tension. Zac steeled himself and flew to Idiche, noting the massive sphere in front of her. It was a murky orb of illusions and spatial distortions, dark with the touch of death. Zac couldn't see through it, but the violent shaking suggested something was fighting to escape.

“About time! You might have mentioned you were going to drop that monster into the valley. I was caught in the crossfire just like everyone else,” Idiche complained, looking worse for wear.

“My apologies, there wasn't a moment to lose,” Zac said, eyeing the sphere with interest. “You managed to catch the other Monarch?”

Idiche nodded. “Your toad is attacking from within, but we're reached our limit.”

“I'm not sure I can handle another fight right now,” Zac admitted, gesturing to the stump of his left arm. His right arm was also in poor shape from the Ocular Attack, though he had performed some basic repairs with Creation Energy during the chaos.

“No one is asking you to fight. The inner zone is shifting. We can lose him in the chaos,” Idiche said urgently. “But first, we need...”