“Stop, it’s okay!” Zac shouted, using Dao to cut through the sandstorm’s roar.

Zac kept a calm demeanor, but he had to hold back tears of relief when memories and power came rushing through the Omega Link. Looking death in the eye and having his link severed had almost thrown him into a pit of despair, one that only worsened when Joanna broke through the gate in an unexpected burst of violence. Not knowing whether the Eternal Servant had killed his other half, he could only urge his remaining sealbearers to run from the taboo being they’d awoken.

“What’s going on?” Carl asked, warily looking around with bow in hand.

“That’s…” Zac hesitated. “I got word from the other side. The guardian spirit didn’t kill Zac and Joanna. It chose to test them instead, and it’ll all be fine if Zac passes.”

“What about Joanna?” Emily asked.

“The spirit seemed to recognize her heritage. She’s been given an opportunity instead.”

“We should have known,” Ogras exhaled as he appeared from the shadows. “The Heavens wouldn’t let its darling fall in such an ignoble way. Should we head back?”

Zac gave it some thought. “Just you. Everyone else, please head back to the base for now. We’ll call everyone back if Zac manages to unlock the Halls of Service. Of course, I understand if you wish to pass after recent events.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help? What’s going on?” Emily asked with a low voice.

“It’ll be fine. I have certain restrictions placed on me,” Zac whispered. “Only Ogras is exempt.”

“Fine, but just call if you need our assistance!” Emily said before leading the others through the storm.

Zac and Ogras turned into streaks that tore through the sand, quickly reappearing on the outskirts of the Ensolus Ruins.

“Come out,” Zac grunted. “I need an explanation.”

A tired and shamefaced Esmeralda soon appeared. ‘This doesn’t make sense. An Eternal Servant isn’t supposed to retain so much of their identity, making deals and using misdirection. Their method of immortality comes at a steep price; they are supposed to be mindless killing machines guarding their domain. Could it be an Array Spirit that has lost its mind? No, it’s too powerful, and there’s no mistaking that aura.’

“Well, whatever’s going on, we’ll just have to play by her rules. Can we do something to help?” Ogras asked.

“Maybe,” Zac said, explaining the five-part pilgrimage and the rules.

“Shouldn’t be a problem if some ancient trainees could pass, no?” Ogras said with a raised brow.

“That’s the thing. The spirit had seen my strength and still didn’t seem convinced I’d survive the trial,” Zac said, turning to Esmeralda. “Have you heard of the trial? Or do you know the strength or stage required to become a templar?”

‘I don’t know about grades, but I know you can’t become a templar before reaching a certain level of power. Being baptized and becoming a Templar meant joining their legions—you can’t have weaklings creating weaknesses in your formation. Even if the order accepted a talent at a very young age, they would only be called a seed or a trainee until they met the prerequisites.’

“So it could be a set-difficulty trial?” Ogras frowned, voicing Zac’s worries.

Zac hadn’t even considered that possibility when stepping through the spatial gate. He was so happy to escape death’s clutches that he forgot to consider the ramifications. This wasn’t an individual trial designed by the System, which was often calibrated to your level or grade. It was an entry test to an elite army, so it could have a set difficulty level regardless of who took it.

‘I remember!’ Esmeralda suddenly exclaimed. ‘A historic remnant I visited had a poem. It mentioned ranks of a million Perfected Lords holding back the darkness.’

“Perfected Lords? Peak D-grade?” Zac grimaced.

Zac might be able to pass a combat test designed for Peak D-grade templars by relying on the biggest advantage he had compared to ancient cultivators—Titles. Certainly, cultivators of the pre-System age weren’t quite as unrefined or weak as Zac was initially led to believe. They could unlock their body’s potential through various training regimens, lucky encounters, and devices like the Tribulation Throne.

Ultimately, those gains couldn’t compare with the System’s structured and perfected boosts through the Title System. An elite today, especially someone like Zac, who had such an extraordinary accumulation of titles, would hold a clear advantage over the elites of that age. Adding all his other strengths, he should at least measure up to the weakest among the ancient Templars.

Zac was also confident in his soul, body, and heart, but he had to be realistic. His foundations were very good for his age and level. But compared to an elite candidate who might have tempered their minds and bodies for millennia, using the methods provided by the templars themselves? He couldn’t even pass the Tribulation Throne without ‘cheating,’ and that opportunity wasn’t designed to sift out the best of the best like the pilgrimage.

“How much time do you have? Are you in a temporal chamber or an Inheritance Realm?” Ogras asked.

“I think it’s normal space. It feels like I’m standing in a real waiting room with my real body, though I can’t confirm I’m not in an illusion. There’s no temporal difference, though,” Zac said as he looked around with his other half. The Spatial Gate had taken him to a chamber looking like a smaller version of the Hall of Service. The circular room was only ten meters across, holding five pathways instead of hundreds. “The first trial has a one-day deadline, but it hasn’t begun ticking down. The trial will start when I pass through another doorway.”

“You could play it safe,” Ogras offered. “Just hang around and cultivate until you’re confident to keep going.”

Zac slowly nodded. There was barely any Faith Energy in the chamber, which might explain why the link had been reinstated. Perhaps the trial areas were outside of the Eternal Servant’s reach.

Staying put would throw a wrench in his plans, but it wouldn’t ruin them altogether. His Draugr half wasn’t trapped, so he could still go to the Imperial Graveyard. He could even pass items back and forth between his bodies through Purity of the Void, ensuring he wouldn’t run out of cultivation materials.

“It might work, but I can’t trust that servant. It might decide I failed because I took too long. I’d have to wait it out until the trial started to be safe. And there’s no guarantee I won’t be sent right back afterward,” Zac muttered. “Well, we’ll find out more after I step into the trial, though I might lose connection again.”

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Not to mention, the very idea to back down from this challenge triggered a fierce reluctance in Zac’s heart. It wasn’t just about losing out on the benefits hidden in the other temples. It was about giving up on himself before he even tried, harming his Dao Heart and conviction.

“I’ll just stick around in case you need some ideas,” the demon offered.

“Thanks,” Zac said before focusing on his human side.

The only thing in the trial waiting room was a copy of the large tablet representing the Pilgrimage of Strength. It had no rules or explanations written down, though the fierce aura emitted gave Zac a rough instinctual understanding of the trial. The Pilgrimage of Strength was a combat trial, as he’d expected, which was why Zac chose it. If he couldn’t pass a trial of combat, the others would be absolutely hopeless. The amount of effort he’d have to put in would provide a baseline for the other trials.

Each gate lead to a different trial, depending on which path you took. For example, an offensive fighter like Zac wouldn’t have to face the same challenge as a general. He only needed a glance to find the one suiting him—the Path of Carnage, whose doorway said ‘salvation through slaughter.’ The record-holder of that path was called Sepum Eldor. His entry was just shy of two hours, which put him in third place overall on the stele. To appear on the stele’s top 100, he needed to pass within 9 hours.

Zac wasn’t planning on stalling things out, but he also wasn’t in a hurry. He hadn’t quite finished healing the wounds covering his body after his meeting with the Eternal Servant. Thankfully, it proved very easy since there was no lingering Dao fighting back, and he’d managed to make some guesses based on the stele.

Waiting any longer would harm his momentum and sow seeds of doubt in his heart. He got to his feet as durable bone enclosed his frame while Verun’s Bite appeared in his hand. Sensing Zac’s fighting intent, Haro emerged from the World Ring after having been scared by the servant’s aura. Together, they stepped into the darkness of the Path of Carnage.

Zac felt a mysterious undulation before he found himself in a ruined town square. The buildings looked a lot like the intact remnants of the Ensolus Ruins, even if the environment was foreign. The sky was beyond anything Zac had ever seen—a whole continent shaped like a tube was staring down at him. The horizon was equally marvelous. He could vaguely see the ground bending far in the distance.

He was inside a manmade world shaped like a tube with multiple layers. How many, Zac had no idea, but it was clear the world was under attack. A crack the size of a city loomed in the distance, exposing the environment to outer space. The sky was constantly lit up from the heated battle, and Zac could sense C-grade fluctuations that easily matched anything he’d experienced in the intersector war.

The world’s defenders were holding the strongest enemies at bay, but raiding parties had slipped through the defensive lines and were wreaking havoc on the inner regions. There were screams and sounds of struggle, though the only nearby beings Zac could sense were civilians hiding in cellars around him.

The experience was incredibly real, even if it was an illusion or recording of some pre-System war. The ambient energy was tainted in a way that Zac had only encountered in his bloodline visions, and he could feel the rough state of the Heavens.

At the same time, it was more than a simple illusion. He was there as himself rather than taking someone’s place, and the trial hadn’t done anything to mess with his perception or memories. His Hidden Nodes were already in a constant state of cleansing against the mortal filth of the ancient era. It was highly likely he had physically stepped into the illusion like Janos during his trial rather than standing in some empty hallway with glazed-over eyes.

There were no quest prompts or clear guidelines, but Zac didn’t need to wait long to find direction. Five humanoid warriors were rapidly approaching, flying at a low altitude. Each emitted fierce, archaic auras, yet Zac exhaled with relief. Real or not, the energy coursing through their pathways indicated they were Late Hegemons who had just stepped into the grade.

It was clear they were enemies. They were completely unfamiliar, yet their appearance triggered a deep-rooted hatred and desire for bloody vengeance. The trial was urging him on, though not with such intensity it could muddy his faculties. Zac restrained his aura as he observed the incoming quintet, remembering the sentence on the gate.

Did the Path of Carnage require him to slaughter these interlopers before they reached the town, thus saving the hiding civilians? Zac rose to the sky, shooting straight for the enemies. He didn’t bother with stealth or subterfuge against such a small group. They were just the first stage of the trial, so he needed to take them out before complications arose.

The ancient warriors looked surprised to find a Hegemon in this remote corner, and Zac gave them no chance to figure out a proper response. He activated multiple skills at once. The resilient trees trapped the raiders within Apex Jungle, whose size and natural formation had grown greater since reaching Middle D-grade. It was enough to stop the Hegemons from splitting up.

Meanwhile, Zac looked completely different as he moved in on his prey. The refined and expertly crafted bones of Ossuary Bulwark had gained a rough and brutal appearance, like someone had crammed together the sharpest and sturdiest bones from whatever animals they’d felled. And it was as though the souls of these fierce beasts had been trapped within the armor as primordial spirits kept jumping out of the bones before being pulled back in.

Even Verun’s Bite had seen a small transformation, having grown one-half in size just like Zac, while the counterbalance teeth had multiplied. Furthermore, both armor and axe were covered in rough scripts that wriggled like worms, constantly changing to allude to different truths.

The enemy leader shouted something Primal Polyglot failed to decipher, but his meaning was obvious. All five raiders were fire cultivators, and the ancient jungle was consumed by a raging wildfire as five opposing domains overlapped. Their energy utilization was clearly not as refined as what you’d expect from modern skills, but the massive amounts of energy a Late Hegemon could wield more than made up for it.

Zac’s trees were made from Life and Conflict rather than wood, and thus lacking any innate weakness against fire. Even then, Apex Jungle skill almost fully collapsed from the onslaught, while Zac was forced to expend a lot of energy to cut a path through the flames. He only managed to stop the raging flames just before they escaped the jungle and continued into the village.

The smell of burning flesh filled his armor, but Zac didn’t mind. What did some burns matter when his enemies had fallen into his trap? Apex Jungle was a retaliatory skill, and hitting the whole forest at once would bring a calamity down on the raiders. Thousands of trees succumbed to the inferno, each unleashing a fierce axelight as a final act of defiance.

A beast tide made from Dao and energy had appeared in the conflagration, digging into the heart of the storm. The pyromancers barely had time to unleash their attacks before finding themselves attacked from every direction by hundreds of attacks holding Zac’s Daos and immense attribute pool.

Zac felt a sense of cruel satisfaction upon seeing his opponent’s confidence, taking his counter-attack head-on instead of splitting up. They somehow pulled back the sea of flames, transforming it into an impenetrable barrier. Their plan had some merit, considering the flames held enough energy to endure Apex Jungle‘s death throes. However, they had failed to take into account Conformation of Supremacy.

The ninety-nine runes covering Zac’s body skittered down his right arm, entering Verun’s Bite before fusing with the swirling haze of Evolutionary Edge. His arm turned into a blur as he unleashed six attacks in rapid succession, each holding over fifteen runes. The blades formed by his skill looked different from usual, almost resembling waves of vengeful ghosts crammed together.

The attacks ignored the enemies hiding within the barrier, instead leaping into the densest accumulations of axelights targeting the flame curtain. A nudge made the primal spirits spread into the storm of incoming attacks. Zac shielded his eyes and braced himself for what was about to happen.

Even then, Zac felt as though a giant had punched him in his chest as one hundred spheres of destruction fused into an ephemeral sun formed by ninety-nine aspects of evolutionary brutality. Space trembled, and blinding white overwhelmed Zac’s physical senses. Even the distant battles seemed to have stalled as the world bore witness to the display.

The sun disappeared as quickly as it formed, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The sea of flames was gone, as was the barrier and its controllers. Zac rapidly blinked to regain his sight and turned into a blade that cut into the terrifying explosion’s expanding shockwave. A swing of Verun’s Bite decapitated a grievously wounded pyromancer, and another one died soon after from another swing from Evolutionary Edge.

It was jarring to fight without the certainty of Kill Energy. This time, Zac needed none. If anything, Zac was surprised one managed to survive. Let alone Late Hegemons just 15 levels above him; even Peak Hegemons would have to be careful when facing the supremacy of his Evolutionary Path put on full display.

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