“Terminal seclusion?” Zac said with a sinking feeling, trying to recall the old man’s latest reports. “That can’t be right. He should have centuries left.”

Almost any breakthrough came with a very real risk of death, but Terminal Seclusion referred to a specific scenario. It referred to aging, bottlenecked cultivators who chose to risk everything before their lifespan ran out. It was a final, desperate gamble to claw back some longevity from the Heavens. They’d either breakthrough or they’d die.

“He can’t be pushing for Hegemony, right?”

“No, it’s not that. Mr. Trang is still in Late E-grade,” Joanna sighed. “I made some inquiries. It turns out he made a trade with one of our captains, exchanging local contribution points for a pill in the Public Merit Exchange. You know how he’s been lately.”

Zac slowly nodded in defeat. Sap Trang had always felt guilty about not joining the war, and those feelings had only grown stronger as the death toll increased. Zac and many others had tried to assure him it was fine. Sap Trang’s role had actually become increasingly vital lately. The number of Beast Kings in the oceans was growing by the day, and he was the best suited to maintain order when coastal garrisons were emptied to fight the Kan’Tanu.

He hadn’t listened. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he’d listened too well. He’d launched an almost suicidal crusade against Earth’s wildlife as if trying to make amends. Zac could see the old man doing something drastic when facing the threat of a planetary upgrade.

“What pill?”

“Burning Youth Pill. It’s already underway.”

“That fool,” Zac groaned.

Burning Youth Pill was a forced breakthrough pill for those with limited potential or exhausted momentum. It had a small chance of raising one’s race and reigniting momentum as a result. However, the pill’s cost was right in the name—you sacrificed your lifespan for a chance at resuming your journey. Even if the breakthrough succeeded, you would barely gain any longevity because of the steep cost.

And if the breakthrough failed… It was truly a Terminal seclusion if that pill was involved.

With such horrible drawbacks, the pill didn’t even deserve to appear in the Limited Exchange. It was a common good, costing just a few thousand Merit. Worse, Burning Youth Pill wasn’t designed for the elderly, which should have been evident from its name. Their longevity was too weak, even if they technically had many years left on the clock.

Zac sighed. He’d already offered the old fisherman far better pills, but Sap Trang always said there was no need. Why couldn’t that stubborn old man have contacted him if he’d changed his mind and wanted to rekindle his momentum? Why take it upon himself to cook up such a hopeless plan?

“It’ll be decades before we see wide-scale growth in Beast King populations,” Zac complained. “He’s rushing into things.”

“The captain who provided the pill?” Joanna asked when she saw Zac’s overcast expression.

“He broke no rules,” Zac waved, feeling a different exhaustion than from his breakthrough.

There was nothing Zac could do if Sap Trang had already eaten the pill. The slightest distraction could lead to disaster. Zac couldn’t even add any arrays or treasures to his environment since the shift might put the old man off-balance.

“It’s up to fate now,” Zac said, steeling his heart. He had billions of people depending on him, and he couldn’t put everything aside because of his old companion’s decision. “Send Lily and Verana to Little Bao’s side. They might be able to help if something happens and the Kraken goes berserk.”

Joanna nodded and sent a few orders through her Communication Crystal while Zac turned his attention to the Cosmos Sack. Inside was a box with an unusual seal. Zac took it out, inspecting it for a few moments before realizing what was going on. He infused energy in a particular order, essentially recreating the flow of their duel.

The box clicked open, exposing a letter and an information crystal.

‘You’ve become the flame leading fate down an unknown path. However, some constants remain in the everchanging calculations of fate. I’ve peered through the curtain, and I hope my findings will help you on your quest. Your journey is linked to two outside variables. You have 403 days before the window closes. I shall see you on the other side.’

Zac turned to the crystal, and his eyes glazed over as his mind was flooded with thousands upon thousands of linked orders. It took him over a minute to even understand what he was looking at.

“Do we need to alter our schedule?”

“No. This is about something else,” Zac said, handing over the crystal. “See for yourself.”

Joanna soon frowned when faced with the immense amount of data. “Such detail. But what’s the purpose of micromanaging our battlefronts to this level? And in this direction? We’ll lose millions of Faction Merit no matter which route we pick.”

“Help me on my quest…” Zac mused as he held the letter. “I think I understand. You haven’t recalled the armies yet, right? Do we have any battlefronts currently active in the Zurbor Sector?”

“The Eighth,” Joanna nodded. “You’re too high-leveled to enter now.”

“I know, but you can,” Zac said, handing over the Centurion Beacon. “Take this and head to the Eighth. Then go to our recruitment station in the Allbright Empire and do the same.”

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Joanna assured after Zac had shown how to activate the tracker.

“Thank you. Don’t let anyone see what you’re up to,” Zac said. “A better world will await you when you’re back.”

Joanna left to investigate Zac’s hunch while he sent out the orders for advancement, only excluding the Eighth from the reset. The response was nigh-instantaneous. The fog shrouding the valley thickened as more energy seeped out of the ground. Meanwhile, shimmering streaks of Dao formed in the night sky, showering the mountains in ethereal light.

Zac flew to one of the shattered peaks, taking in the spectacle. Color seemed clearer, the air fresher, and the Dao had never been closer. The changes would be the most obvious in the energy hotspots like his island, but similar scenes should be appearing across the globe. Earth was awash in Origin Dao for the first time since the integration, though it was only a brief visit this time.

The upgrade would take around one day, and it presented a rare opportunity. The sudden influx of energy and Origin Dao would shake loose bottlenecks and trigger epiphanies on a wholesale scale. Most likely, that was what Sap Trang banked on to survive the destructive pill.

The upgrade would also birth numerous Natural Treasures. Since they were advancing to Middle D-grade, many of these treasures would be beneficial for Hegemons. They could be considered natal treasures born from the Cosmos with unusually pure Daos and almost no heterogeneity. While tempting, Zac wasn’t about to go on a treasure hunt. He already had people stationed at all high-grade cultivation grounds, and he didn’t feel the need to compete with his subordinates over these opportunities.

Neither had Zac expected to gain much from the Origin Dao, believing he had a better chance to find the answers he sought by facing powerful enemies on the frontlines. However, Zac felt his drained mind quake as the multiplying streaks of Life and Death above the mountain range clashed. His experiences on the frontlines crystallized, from the fortress to the following months of bitter struggle.

Joining them was the truth of Conflict he embodied when facing Heaven’s unexpected descent. Even Joanna’s burgeoning aura added a piece to the puzzle, and it all clicked into place. Zac turned his vision inward, locking onto his axe-wielding Dao Avatar. His miniature replica was faded, bent over. Spent.

And willing.

This narrative has been purloined without the author’s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

To live was to fight, and few had the luxury of picking which battles they’d face. Struggle was Heaven’s mandate—it didn’t make a difference whether you pursued the Dao of Conflict or not. What mattered was how you faced the trials and tribulations coming your way, knowing Conflict was without end. It was eternal, so your willingness to face fate had to become eternal, too. If you let defeats or near-death experiences twist your heart, whether it was by filling it with bloodlust and hatred or with fear and doubts, you’d end up sacrificing a part of yourself for every step you took. Eventually, nothing would remain.

The Dao Avatar got to its feet, the action weakening its illusory form even further. Still, it exuded a ruthless aura that declared it wouldn’t back down even if the Heavens returned, which was a distinct possibility if Zac followed through. Who knew what rules governed when he’d be targeted by a tribulation now? Forming a Peak Branch shouldn’t be enough, but neither should entering Middle Hegemony.

Grasping the truths laid before him came with a real threat of death. He was exhausted and utterly unprepared for another round of heavenly wrath. However, backing down now meant discarding the Dao he’d envisioned, giving up on that aspect of his path. How could you nurture an unbreakable fighting spirit while hiding from the Dao? How could you aim to break the chains of fate and control your destiny?

The choice was easy. Zac sent out a series of altered commands before taking out a set of Dao Treasures. Streams of Origin Dao had already formed an invisible swirl around the mountain peak, but it wasn’t enough to fuel Zac’s unusual constitution. Time lost all meaning as Zac became one with the Dao under the shimmering sky.

A clap of thunder could shatter the calm at any moment, announcing Zac’s next war. It never came, and Zac eventually opened his eyes. Hours had passed, yet the night sky remained the same. If anything, the Daolights had grown clearer. Zac enjoyed its simple beauty for a few minutes, not trying to deconstruct the Dao lights with his comprehension. But soon, curiosity trumped tranquility, and Zac opened his Dao Screen to inspect his gains.

Branch of the War Axe (Peak): All attributes 50, Strength 17500, Dexterity 10000, Wisdom 2500. Effectiveness of Strength 25%.

Zac looked at the numbers with satisfaction. He’d jumped over 10% in raw attributes thanks to the huge influx of flat attributes provided by a Peak Branch. The distribution had seen a small shift, adding to Wisdom at the cost of Strength. It was an expected result of the insights added to the Dao Branch and a welcome change in Zac’s book. He would face the Atavism soon enough, and everything strengthening his soul or heart would come in handy.

“You were right.”

Zac closed his screen and glanced over, catching the Centurion Beacon.

“So it’s outside the Zurbor sector,” Zac nodded.

“You think the rearrangement will lead us to the Foreign Gods?”

Joanna, being one of his closest confidantes, already knew about his quest and the events in the Centurion Lighthouse leading to them.

“Lead us to the right part of the sector, at least,” Zac said. “Ventus really did us a solid if this works.”

The Zurbor Sector was, just like Zecia, right at the edge of integrated space. However, that didn’t mean the whole sector shared borders with the Eternal Storm. The System wanted to keep the frontier separated from the outside as much as possible, so there were only a scant few places that touched. The rest actually pointed toward the Multiverse Heartlands, no matter which direction you set off in.

In Zecia, the borders were the Million Gates Territory and a region called the Sallow Sea. The latter was almost the opposite of the Million Gates Territory’s wild mix of risk and opportunity. It was a huge nebula filled with sand that made dimensional travel extremely difficult. Entering it was like stepping into a quagmire that slowly drained your energy.

There were some opportunities hidden within, but the vast distances and difficulties involved left the Sallow Sea mostly abandoned. And beyond the sea waited the full chaos of the Eternal Storm, a region far deadlier than the Million Gates Territory.

The situation in the Zurbor Sector was mostly the same. Zac knew of three borders, one of which connected to their Million Gates Territory through the Spatial Gate. It was easier said than done reaching either, no matter which of the three held the rift for his quest. Even after upgrading the Yphelion, he couldn’t just set off from any random Kan’Tanu world.

He’d have to spend months crossing the sector just to reach the Eternal Storm’s edge, and there was no telling how deep the rift was located. All the while, he’d risk exposure and being hunted down by Kan’Tanu Monarchs attracted by his unique Cosmic Vessel.

What Ventus had provided was essentially a treasure map that would let him manipulate the battlefront system to the right position, avoiding most dangers of such a voyage.

“You upgraded your Dao of the Axe. I think I saw some of myself in it,” the Valkyrie commented as Zac stowed the beacon. Her spear tore through the air, forming complex swirls in the mist.

“Well, you were part of my inspiration,” Zac smiled, seeing his path in her stabs. “Alright, I’m late. We’ll discuss our next move later. Don’t bother with the rest, focus on your breakthrough.”

Zac’s Draugr half went to one of his private Death-attuned islands to bathe in the surging Energy and Dao of Death. His living side would soon do the same, but there was one thing he couldn’t outsource.

“The world is ascending before our very eyes, and yet you’re here,” Karunthel grinned as Zac stepped into the shipyard reception. “Shouldn’t you be out looking for freebies?”

“I’ll leave this one to my people.”

“Not enough to catch your eyes now that you’re a Middle Hegemon?” Karunthel grinned, his mechanical eyes scanning Zac up and down. “What a freak. I can’t believe how far you’ve come since we first met. And a minor stage in ten months? Are you really a Hegemon and not an F-grade brat?”

“Wouldn’t have been possible without the war,” Zac shrugged.

“I guess that’s true. War is a furnace that will incinerate a thousand to temper one,” Karunthel said with the callousness of someone who had experienced winds and rain. “Be careful. Even the best of opportunities will create a rickety vessel if they’re not properly integrated.”

“You’re right, but the System isn’t giving us much choice,” Zac sighed as he looked at the spectacle outside. “There’s no stopping until we’ve won. We’ll just have to patch up our mistakes whenever we catch a breather.”

“Such is the reality of cultivation,” Karunthel agreed. “The Heavens rarely wait for us to be ready to defend our path. Anyway, I guess you’re here to get some stronger toys.”

“Exactly,” Zac said. “My communicator might blow up from all the requests for your vessels.”

“How can some frontier tin cans compare to our beautiful designs?” Karunthel laughed before growing somber. “However, don’t expect one upgrade to drag you out of this pit. It takes much longer to craft Middle D-grade vessels, and they won’t be strong enough to deal with the real threats you face.”

“I know. But every bit helps,” Zac said. “How long will it take?”

“Same as last time. Two weeks.”

“Can you share the new catalog? Or the next quest?”

Karunthel glanced at Rahm, who shook his head.

“Guess not. They will follow the same standard and purpose as your current catalog, though. Oh, you’ll still be able to build the Early D-grade vessels. Our production capacity will see a big boost, and I’ve petitioned to add a dedicated after-service division. Repairs, replacements, and upgrades will go much faster. It’s a good opportunity for both of us to make some extra money now that your wares have seen some action.”

“Upgrades? Like the Yphelion?”

“No, that’s a separate matter,” Karunthel said. “But you’ll be able to provide full or partial upgrades for our ship. Like giving a Starflash with a Middle D-grade hull or adding an elite unit to a drone carrier. It won’t interfere with our regular production line, and it can give your enemies a nasty surprise after having gotten used to a certain performance.”

“That’s amazing,” Zac said with wide eyes before looking at Karunthel with suspicion. “You can just add something like that?”

“Well, our department has to pay a small price to the Heavens,” Karunthel shrugged. “You could say we’re making a bet you’ll let us recoup the investment and more. Not to mention, there’s a lot of good potential customers here nowadays, making the war an opportunity to showcase our craft.”

“Thank you,” Zac said, knowing altering the System’s rules couldn’t possibly involve a ‘small price.’ “I won’t forget the favor.”

“Don’t mention it. Are you leaving your skipper with us?”

“I can’t waste your production lines on upgrading the Yphelion right now. Things are too chaotic. I’ll keep it with me until I get a break,” Zac said.

“That’s fine. Don’t get it blown up, though. We can’t upgrade a pile of scraps,” the spidergolem said, glancing out the window. “It’s a waste for you to stay here. Go, we’ll deal with the upgrades.”

“Then I’ll take my leave,” Zac smiled. “I’ll be back when the upgrades are complete.”

“Have fun,” Karunthel waved as Zac flashed to the teleporter and disappeared.

The orderly interiors were replaced by a wilderness teeming with Life, facing a great revival from the planetary upgrade. A glance was enough to confirm it wasn’t enough to make a similar push with his Branch of the Kalpataru, but Zac didn’t mind. Between the dense Dao of Life and the lingering clarity of his breakthrough, it was the perfect opportunity to make his skill upgrades.

It was over forty days since he reached level 175, at which point he received the first and only set of class quests in Hegemony. Normal cultivators would get one more, but an Arcane-class cultivator was expected to mostly deal with their skills themselves. Zac had held onto the upgrades until now because of his impending breakthrough.

He’d been worried the incredibly complex Skill Fractals would be damaged during the ignition, rendering them unusable for months. This was especially relevant for Primal Edict because the fractal was placed almost right next to his Cosmic Core. He’d been absolutely right. The fractal was ravaged after facing the combined wrath of the ignition and tribulation.

Pillar of Desolation was slightly better off thanks to its placement by his solar plexus, but it would take a lot of effort to fix it himself. It wasn’t the first time these skills were damaged, but it was always a headache because they contained sections based on Creation and Oblivion that Zac didn’t fully comprehend. If they were already upgraded to D-grade, it would have been even harder.

The class quest was the perfect shortcut. Zac had already confirmed that the System wouldn’t penalize him for using the quest reward on damaged Skill Fractals, and it’d always create a skill in perfect condition. This was actually something cultivators often utilized to fix damaged or broken skills.

Zac wordlessly sat in the heart of the two islands, showered in Life and Death as he waited for the transformation to reach its zenith. Every breath filled his drained body and core with vigor. Every minute filled him with inspiration.

“Four hundred days…” Zac muttered, feeling the winds of fate growing stronger.

Was it enough?