Defiance of the Fall - Chapter 1245: Follow

“Follow…”

Ogras swore upon seeing Zac collapse on the floor, only to be hurled into a wall by a powerful jolt. Too much was happening all at once. Something extraordinary had clearly just happened to their captain, overloading his mind. The physical dangers were more manageable. Getting knocked around wouldn’t do anything to that brute, and people were already moving to assist.

There were bigger fish to fry, and it wasn’t the collapsing tin can around them. A critical opportunity had presented itself, and he needed to capitalize on it. Ogras had kept his eyes on the bomb throughout the nerve-wracking journey in the Threaded Hell, both hoping and fearing the netherblasted threads would do it in.

It turned out the high-grade contraption had resisted the threads even better than the sealbearers, and he’d noticed how Kator’s watch grew more lax by the minute. Ogras had also given up hope, but their sudden exit had thrown everything on its head. They needed to act fast.

‘Do it!’

There was no sign of Janos hearing his command, nor were there any fluctuations of Energy or Dao. He remained all but forgotten in his corner on the bridge, which just so happened to be right behind the glowering Izh’Rak Reaver.

A small piece of augmented reality fused with truth under the guise of beeping alarms and nerve-wracking heaves as the Yphelion was thrown to and fro. Only Ogras was equipped to truly appreciate the genius of the method and how hard Janos had worked to bring it to fruition. Their plan was over a month in the making, where Janos had spent every waking moment gradually incorporating the Yphelion with his Illusory World.

The illusionist’s presence had grown fainter by the day as Ogras and Janos worked in concert to erase him from the mind of the crew. Even Zac seemed to have mostly forgotten about his existence by the time they’d passed the storm curtain. Kator was a much easier mark, even if his series of victories over Zac had failed to lower his guard. It came down to strength. Only a handful could enter his eyes. The rest were so far beneath him that they were irrelevant, where his strength was all the safeguard he needed.

Zac remained oblivious to their plotting throughout. Such was the way of things. For the Emperor to stand in the sun, someone had to move in the shadows. Threats and problems needed to be cut down as they sprouted, lest they become towering trees that blotted out the sky.

Their solution wasn’t without limitations. Janos would immediately be discovered if he did something big that diverged from reality or if he pushed too hard against the inborn desires of the target. Only the lightest suggestion would pass unnoticed. It wasn’t enough to make the reaver forget about his safeguard, but it should be enough to briefly ensure he focused elsewhere when so much was going on.

A moment was all Ogras needed. The shadows stirred in a remote corridor on the opposite side of the Yphelion, sneaking into the sealed-off room where the bomb waited. A puff of ash appeared in the room just as Ogras’s doppelganger took shape. It looked no different from what they’d seen throughout their voyage to the Lower Planes, when everything from furniture to damaged plating was claimed by the deathly threads.

What had felt like a countdown to the end now looked like an auspicious cloud heralding a boundless future. In reality, it was a piece of the device that had been held over their head that had been claimed in a last showing of prowess by the Threaded Hell. It was even the spatial tear sealed in the middle of the device that had been done in, the very one meant to erupt and swallow the ship if triggered.

Ogras had no idea what brought about the change, why the spatial tear was suddenly flooded with death while the threads disappeared from everything else. Was it a power struggle? Zac had said the Spatial Tear led to an unknown Lower Plane. Maybe the Threaded Hell sensed the breach and attacked it to protect its borders? Those mysteries were well beyond Ogras.

He knew one thing with certainty. If the netherblasted skeleton noticed what’d happened, he would bring out a backup that they didn’t have time to counter. With their leader out for the count, he might even go crazy and attack.

Not on his watch.

A fake spatial tear almost indistinguishable from the original was formed through Ogras’ Branch of False Truths. That ‘almost’ was the critical flaw that would have made the plan impossible if not for his old subordinate. With reality augmented, fake had become real. The bomb was now nothing more than a very expensive piece of decor.

The doppelganger retreated, and the reaver showed no sign of noticing the switch. That wasn’t enough to make Ogras relax. Kator was slippery and would have to be kept under constant watch until they could leverage their opportunity.

Not to mention, it was difficult to relax when their lifeline’s shields were on the verge of collapse. The storm they’d been caught in was far beyond anything they’d seen so far, and the Yphelion was already an arrow at the end of its flight. Unless something changed, they were done for.

Another minute passed. Ogras sighed, looking at the duo who’d fought tooth and nail to safely bring them to their destination. There was strength beneath the weakness, the kind of talent that only a stable faction could nurture. The ones with fierce warriors guarding the gates so that other skills could be allowed to develop.

Unfortunately, they were too young—all of them. Ogras couldn’t read the blaring signals that popped all over the bridge. His shadows were spread throughout the ship, showing the reality with painful clarity. They had a minute, maybe two, before it was over.

Was this how it all ended?

“Go back!” Kator roared, grabbing Galau with one hand while throwing Catheya out of the way with the other to reach Zac. “Better take our chances with the Threaded Hell than being ground to dust!”

“Impossible!” Galau croaked, almost having his neck crushed by Kator’s tightening grip. “It’ll take weeks before it can be activated again.”

“Release him!” Emily roared, her eyes dripping with bloodlust.

Joanna seemed equally ready to go to war, uncaring that they were about to face the music. She’d protect her Emperor to the end. Even the Abyssal-eyed lass appeared to have found her temerity and looked ready to fight, even if it meant betraying her empire. A ruthless smile spread across Ogras’s face. Could he be any worse?

His aura faded as the [Shadewar Flag] began unfurling within his sleeves. Kator might be a bastard, but he wasn’t a heretical cultivator. Using the flag on him would ruin his hard work. But what did it matter if they were all going to die? Might as well rectify one regret before they all entered the great beyond.

“Incoming!” Jaol screamed, stopping the melee before it could start.

An utter silence followed his words. Even the storm had died down.

“What’s this?” Kator said, releasing his grip on Galau.

“Didn’t you hear the boss?” Ogras said with a refreshing smile, his Killing Intent already back in the shadows. “Follow.”

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———

Zac woke up with a start, his heart hammering in fear. The sudden jerk would have knocked out one of Ogras’s teeth if he hadn’t turned into a shade in time. Zac wildly looked around, only relaxing upon realizing he was still on the bridge. He’d been dreaming he was trapped in a coffin like the one they escaped from, carried toward an unknown destination.

“How long?” Zac asked as he got to his feet.

“Eight hours,” Ogras said. “I was considering stuffing a [Gentleman’s Helper] down your throat to see if it’d get your blood pumping.”

“What? That long?” Zac said, blearily looking around.

The bridge was almost empty. Only Jaol, Mark, Catheya, and Ogras remained, though the demon’s faded appearance indicated he wasn’t there with his main body.

“Eight hours, and you left me lying on the floor?”

“We didn’t dare to disturb you in case it broke the spell,” Catheya said with a weak smile. “Are you okay?”

“My head’s killing me. Feels like I’ve drunk a bathtub’s worth of moonshine,” Zac grunted as he downed a set of soul-nourishing pills. “What’s going on? What spell?”

“See for yourself,” Ogras said, pointing at the screen.

Only then did Zac fully remember the situation before he passed out. They’d been in a terrifying storm, easily surpassing the storm curtain. And yet, the Yphelion was sailing so smoothly he’d briefly forgotten they were inside the Imperial Graveyard. He turned to the monitor, seeing a huge rune floating before the Ypelion’s tip.

“It’s holding off the storm?” Zac exclaimed, realizing the sigil had created a completely safe wind tunnel for them to follow inside. “Who’s doing that?”

“We thought it was you?” Ogras said. “You told us to follow before passing out. The light appeared a few minutes later.”

“Oh.” Zac didn’t need to ask where it was taking them.

He could feel how they were drawing closer to their destination, which meant the seal had been sent to fetch them. It was a very good sign, as far as Zac was concerned. The Centurion base appeared to be in much better shape than the Centurion Lighthouse if it could send out a guiding rune. It also meant they’d passed a preliminary screening and been cleared for approach.

“Was I the only one who passed out?” Zac asked as he observed the unfamiliar seal.

It reminded him of the Seal of the Starfall Court, except it contained completely foreign elements that seemed detached from their system of cultivation. Could the markings come from the Lost Era, something they extracted from the Foreign Gods?

“Yes. We figured you drained your soul after summoning the seal.”

“How are all of you fine after that…” Zac said, giving up on deciphering the seal. It was far too complex for him to understand, to the point he couldn’t even tell which Daos it utilized. “You didn’t see it? Before we escaped?”

“See what?” Ogras asked. “We were watching that line of shades pass by when suddenly being filled with a sense of crisis. You dragged us out before anyone could figure out what we were dealing with. Did you notice something?”

Zac frowned in thought. “You could say that. It’s probably for the best if we leave it at that.”

The corpse’s voice was long gone, yet Zac could still feel the “to us” rattling in the back of his mind. Meanwhile, he could see the myriad eyes staring at him every time he blinked. If he’d been any slower breaking out, he might have seen his Dao subverted or rewritten. There was no telling what would have happened to the weaker crew members if faced with the same thing.

“Some stones are better left unturned,” Ogras agreed, though the curious gleam remained.

Zac had no real answers even if he were willing to share them. He was no clearer what that corpse meant now that things had calmed down. Both the Threaded Hell and the overwhelming aura sealed inside the coffin were completely foreign. Zac’s best guess was that the corpse wasn’t talking to him. It was rather talking to Karz, just like the wisp of Emperor Limitless when Zac used the Tribulation Throne.

“Huh?” Zac suddenly muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Catheya fussed, looking him up and down.

“My connection to the Yphelion is on the fritz,” Zac said. “I can’t access most of the systems, not even the internal scan.”

“I’m not surprised. We took a beating before the seal found us,” Catheya nodded. “Most are off helping Galau with repairs. Even Kator.”

“I guess the prospect of stumbling at the finish line put a fire under his ass,” Ogras snorted. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping watch on him.”

“How bad is it?”

“It’s bad,” the demon grimaced. “The Merchant said we’re toast if we lose the outside help. The shields failed, and whole sections were torn open. We lost five more people. We better pray there’s a safe spot to perform proper repairs where we’re going. There’s no way we’re making it out alive if we have to leave the way we came.”

“Well, we’re almost there,” Zac said. “Another hour at most.”

“Guess we need to get ready,” Ogras said, glancing at Catheya.

“I’ll inform the others,” Catheya said, leaving the bridge without another word.

Ogras brought Zac to the side, shrouding them in shadows. “What about—”

“It’s his move,” Zac said, not needing to ask what the demon was asking about.

“Staying passive on this matter presents a huge risk, both for you and the others. Especially the Indomitable sealbearers,” Ogras cautioned. “I’ve—”

“Striking first is no different. Esmeralda can’t do anything about the agreement with the Undead Empire, and it was mostly designed to keep me on the straight and narrow. I’ll be heavily wounded, at the very least, possibly taken out of commission. We’d be in deep trouble if we failed to take him out in one go. Even if we manage to drag him down, he’d take a few of us with him.”

Ogras looked into his eyes for a few seconds before nodding. “Fine. I’ll play nice. With your Luck, he might stumble and break his neck the moment he acts.”

“Would save us the headache,” Zac smiled.

News spread quickly, and their desperate straits couldn’t quell the sense of anticipation growing among the crew. Over a dozen of their companions had given up their lives to come far, while the rest had been pushed to their limits. The next hours would decide whether their sacrifice was worth it, whether the key to saving Zecia and Earth could be found in the graveyard’s depths.

“We’re approaching the edge. Ten minutes out,” Jaol finally exclaimed.

“Anything else?” Zac asked.

“Nothing. There’s a barrier blocking our scans. I can only confirm space is incredibly solid. Far beyond the norm on the frontier, let alone the Imperial Graveyard.”

“What about the cultists?”

“Same there. The storm we’ve crossed is too intense to make out anything. Our scanners can only reach a few hundred miles through all that interference.”

“I can’t imagine anyone making it through that storm in one piece without protection,” Ogras spat. “Even a C-grade vessel would crumble in no time, and we’ve traveled for almost half a day. Who knows how much further the storm stretches?”

“The storm isn’t natural,” Jaol agreed. “It lacks the characteristics of the ones we’ve passed. It should be the result of the base we’re approaching. It has formed a stable region by pushing away all turbulence.”

“Like a miniature version of the System,” Zac mused, remembering Laondio’s purifier from his Bloodline Vision.

The arrays could only remove the earthly taint from an area by expelling it, and the System worked the same way when it integrated sectors. Most of it was pushed into the Eternal Storm, forming a dangerous band of turbulence around integrated space. It was because of this phenomenon that regions like Million Gates Territory and the Imperial Graveyard formed in the first place.

Everyone worked on the Yphelion until the very last moment, at which point the sealbearers returned to the bridge while the rest took their position in the reinforced shelter in the vessel’s core. They were all full of questions, and the bridge collectively held its breath when the sigil punched through the storm’s final layer to display the scenery beyond.

“What in the…” Kruta gawked.

Zac had seen some odd phenomena since his journey took him into the cosmos, things far exceeding anything known about space before the Integration came. Even then, not even the Void Star could match the odd sun before them. It wasn’t even spherical, nor any conventional three-dimensional shape.

The sun was shaped like a hollow tesseract, with enormous pillars of fiery-hot golden sunlight. In the center of the cubic construct was a pitch-black sphere. Or perhaps it was a flat disk; Zac couldn’t tell when the sun seemed to exceed three-dimensional space.

“It has to be man-made, right?” Emily said, looking at the orc. “Are there things like this in the Heartlands?”

“I’ve seen some modified stars, but never anything like this. Not even in the Heavens. I can’t begin to understand how it works or if it’s even a star.”

“It’s a true star.” It was the usually reserved Rhuger who’d spoken. “It’s enormous, far beyond what we can see. I believe it would take up half the Imperial Graveyard if it were allowed to appear in its true form.”

“That big? I’ve never heard of a star that size on the frontier,” Zac exclaimed. “If it went supernova, wouldn’t a good chunk of Zurbor…”

“Don’t even think about it!” Ogras wheezed, giving Zac a pointed look. “At least not while we’re still here!”

“I’m not going to blow it up, alright?” Zac muttered.

His promise was met with anticipation, suspicion, and defeat, depending on his subordinate. The only thing that unified his sealbearers was the utter lack of confidence in his statement. And Zac had to admit, the idea did have some merit. It wasn’t too late to get back to basics in case the Foreign Gods didn’t pan out.