Chapter 1424 - The Hunter, the Swordsman, & the Monk (10) (Patreon)

The world was entirely silent, even as the ground continued to fall into the large sphere of nothingness that had appeared. Not even the crackling white lines gave off any sound, and as the Sword Saint stared at this scene, his mind was having a difficult time comprehending what had just happened. He forced himself to look away from the sphere, feeling that staring at it would only cause him damage, as he focused on himself first and foremost, trying to survive whatever Jake had caused.

He did realize some things, though.

It wasn’t that no noise was being made; it was that the concept of sound was broken. He also realized how, despite the sun still shining above, he felt no heat on his skin, nor any sensation of cold from the sporadic wind that seemed to switch between quietly blowing and disappearing entirely.

Whatever Jake had done led to a fundamental breakdown in the laws of the world, and going by the cracks in reality taking the form of odd white lines, the destruction hadn’t stopped. The Sword Saint was ready for anything to happen at that point, yet he was still surprised when suddenly everything was just... fixed.

The lines disappeared, the sphere of nothingness was gone, and all traces of what Jake had done that remained were a semi-spherical hole in the epicenter of the crater. Well, that, and the fact that half of the monk’s body was missing, though the Sword Saint already knew that wouldn’t be his end.

As expected, after a moment, the remaining bloodlust energy gathered and formed the right side of his body, though curiously, he wasn’t healing. His flesh wasn’t even trying to heal, which made the Sword Saint frown until he realized why.

Not just the physical body was removed... even the Soulshape is gone.

Healing functioned by restoring the body according to the blueprint that was the Soulshape, but now, the monk had the blueprint of his physical body torn in half, making it impossible to heal. Damaging Soulshapes was certainly possible, but outright destruction? No, partial deletion of it? Truly something only someone like Jake would be capable of.

Having half of one’s Soulshape deleted would kill pretty much anyone, yet the monk remained and even managed to forcibly form energy constructs to replace what had been broken. This fully confirmed the Sword Saint’s theory as he floated there in the air.

The monk looked utterly shocked for several seconds as he just stood there before he finally turned his head toward the Sword Saint. Despite the state of everything, he managed to reach the old man within seconds, showing that even with half of his existence removed, he was still stronger now than he’d been before using his Transcendent Artifact.

“Do you have any insights to share regarding what may have happened to the hunter?” the monk asked after appearing in front of the Sword Saint, who’d already floated down and taken a seat on the ground again, as quite frankly, he wasn’t in any state to waste energy flying.

“Jake did what I would classify as Jake things,” Miyamoto shrugged his shoulders jokingly. “Though in all seriousness, I have not the faintest clue what happened or what he did... but I do have an idea as to why you’re still standing.”

The monk tilted his head, or, well, half of it, considering his entire left side was gone, as his one remaining eye stared down at the swordsman. “Pray tell.”

Chuckling, Miyamoto gave the monk a curious look. “Reincarnation. Or not quite. Something close, yet bastardized. Broken. Incomplete may be the right word. You’re another version of yourself, the you of a different life, yes?”

Nodding in confirmation, the monk didn’t seem like he intended to hide anything. “Astounding insight. Almost makes me believe you already knew about the Wheel of Samsara... though the reaction to hearing its name tells me it’s your first time hearing it.”

“Seems like I’m not the only one with impressive insight,” the Sword Saint shook his head. “Wheel of Samsara, you say. A fitting name. Connected to the Samsara Daolord, I assume?”

That question, the monk didn’t answer, seemingly not as open a book as the swordsman had hoped.

“Either way, I do believe I have a theory. Namely, why you’re still alive,” the Sword Saint continued. “You can’t die, can you? Or, more accurately, seeing as you once existed, yet now are no more, you cannot disappear for a second time. Your entire existence is anchored and dependent on the version of you that exists today, meaning as long as that persists, so will you. Of course, that version is hidden within you, effectively making you unkillable as long as the effect of the Transcendent Artifact remains active.”

The monk didn’t say anything but stood there quietly as the Sword Saint kept talking.

“If it was created by the Samsara Daolord, I can only take my hat off to his brilliance. It exploits the rules of the system and seems almost... what was the word those computer guys used... bugged, I believe? A Transcendent Artifact that’s not only capable of achieving something outside the system, but even exploiting the parts that do remain within the system’s control. Tell me, are my insights accurate?”

It took the monk a few moments before he slowly nodded. “Denying the truth won’t bring me anything, though I won’t say you’re entirely accurate to say I’m unkillable... for I fear that had whatever the hunter done encompassed my entire body, I would be no more.”

“Alright, then nearly unkillable,” the Sword Saint chuckled while shaking his head. “Still, an impressive item. I do wonder about the cost, though. Such a thing cannot come cheap.”

“I would not have used it if this wasn’t a simulated world,” the Eastbound Monk sighed. “Even with it being a virtual world, I’m uncertain whether it was the right choice or not.”

The Sword Saint slowly nodded, understanding the monk completely. All Transcendent powers came at a cost, and Miyamoto wasn’t sure that one could claim something like that for free, even if it was within a simulated world. Though, admittedly, the Sword Saint did detect that despite having partly used his Transcendent Skill, he hadn’t truly paid the cost, perhaps because the simulated world wasn’t capable of claiming it.

Still, he was reduced to his current state after Winter had ended. He was incredibly weak, as if suffering from an extreme case of overusing his boosting skill, and he wouldn’t be back in proper fighting condition for a good while, effectively making him a non-threat. Which was probably why even the monk, who was clearly also on a timer, didn’t outright move to finish off the final Administrator contending with him yet.

“It has managed to remain active for quite a while, hasn’t it? Especially considering how much you’ve exerted yourself and the level of damage you’ve suffered,” the Sword Saint commented.

He also believed that, while the monk was perhaps not killable in his current state, that didn’t mean he was unstoppable. If he ran out of energy, he would be unable to continue fighting, making him nothing more than a lame duck waiting for the effects of the Wheel of Samsara to expire. At least that was how many theorized one could take down the Undying from the Risen, even if killing him wasn’t possible.

“Admittedly, that has also surprised me,” the monk said, nodding his head. “Perhaps another side effect of this virtual world.”

“Perhaps,” the swordsman muttered, now wondering if the Wheel of Samsara somehow had a connection to the virtual world. The Myriad Paths event did seem very reminiscent of what the Wheel of Samsara did, so it wouldn’t be too odd if they had something to do with one another.

“Alas, I do fear I’ll have to bring an end to things here,” the monk said, letting out a sigh as he looked at his own hand now made of pure energy. “I do not know how much longer I’ll be able to retain this form, and I’ll have to claim victory before my time is up. A victory like this does feel hollow, but not accepting it would be foolish.”

“Understandable,” the Sword Saint nodded weakly. “Claiming victory through the disappearance of your biggest competition must leave one wanting.”

“That is where we differ,” the monk said. “I would have gladly claimed victory without any competition in the first place. Ultimately, all that matters is the outcome, and while achieving it in the most peaceful way possible is ideal, when that isn’t possible, I’ll gladly take the easiest and fastest way.”

“I see,” the Sword Saint chuckled as he looked toward the sky. “Seems we are different in that regard. I see beauty in the struggle and the contest. The opportunity to improve by overcoming one’s limits.”

Looking back to the monk, Miyamoto kept smiling. “One would think you’d share such sentiment, but perhaps not. This second chance you got, your new life, was not born of your own desire, but manifested through external power.”

Slowly forcing himself to stand, leaning on his sword to do so, the Sword Saint kept talking. “You got an opportunity to experience the cycle. While I cannot even begin to dare claim that I fully comprehend what happened to you or how you became who you are today, I do understand the cycle. The decay, growth, the need to destroy for the new to be born.”

The monk’s eyes suddenly opened wide as his aura erupted, no longer interested in words as he charged, but in the eyes of the Sword Saint, he was far too slow as the swordsman kept talking, slowly raising his blade as he stood there, unsteadily.

“In the same vein that your old self needed to die for the current you to exist, so must winter pass before a new season can be welcomed, and the cycle start anew.”

Time itself slowed as the sword fully rose to point directly towards the monk as the listless Sword Saint spoke. “So join me in welcoming it, as winter ends and life returns.”

Closing his eyes, the Sword Saint took a deep breath as a soothing smell entered his nose, and with a smile on his lips, he opened his eyes once more. The monk was only a couple of meters away, about to strike as the swordsman spoke, and invoked the season of change.

“Springtime Advent.”

--

To have one’s existence erased from reality was not a pleasant experience. The very concept of erasure was rarely found due to the sheer potency of the power required to make such a thing happen, and it often only worked on those far weaker than oneself or was caused by incredibly rare natural phenomena.

Being erased did not mean that everything ceased to exist, though. Truesouls were, in every sense of the word, indestructible. Only the system could destroy a Truesoul, and no matter what happened, it would remain after a person disappeared, even if erased by the second-most powerful force in the multiverse – always right behind the system, of course.

However, what happened to Jake couldn’t be called erasure... because that simply wasn’t an acceptable outcome.

When the world sundered and Jake was consumed, he refused to allow himself to be swallowed by it. The world itself tried to erase him, to expel him from it, but how could it? Primeval Origin Energy was not that easily erased.

For what felt like forever, Jake existed in limbo; his body seemingly erased, his existence scrubbed, yet he remained. Throughout it all, his mind remained clear, not a trace of fear in it, as the only sound that existed was that of his own heartbeat. A representation of his continued existence, persisting even if there were no physical organ.

Then he felt it. Within the nothingness, the white lines appeared, present even in the void of the simulation. There were more than ever, and guided through instinct alone, Jake followed them. Traced them. Sought their source until suddenly... solid ground.

Jake opened his eyes and stared down at his own feet. He was standing on what felt and looked like tile or marble, and at once, his Sphere of Perception spread, making him turn around.

A massive, wide staircase rose before him, and atop it was an empty throne that stood hundreds of meters tall. There were no exits or entrances to what appeared to be some sort of throne room, making it seem as if the place was simply yet another quick creation.

Yet it felt familiar. As if he’d seen it before.

“I see,” Jake said, looking up towards the empty throne. “So you’re the one who gave him that wheel.”

His words echoed throughout the empty throne room, seemingly directed at no one. Right then, Jake also realized that it appeared his time had come to an end. He’d burned through a lot of Primeval Origin Energy to sustain his own existence, and it appeared mostly spent as his aura slowly faded away. Unlike the last time he’d pushed his Bloodline beyond its limits and embraced it fully, he wasn’t healed upon its expiration because he didn’t need to.

Upon reconstructing his body and appearing in this place, he’d already done so, which was admittedly what had drained much of his remaining Primeval Origin Energy. Feeling the last of the energy fade away, Jake felt an odd sense of emptiness, as if coming down from a high.

His emotions dampened, and he felt weaker, yet in a pretty good state. Taking a moment, Jake looked at his hands and moved around a little, quickly fully getting his bearings back.

“You must have led me here for a reason,” Jake muttered, throwing another glance at the throne. He didn’t detect anyone present, but he knew something was watching him. A presence that had been watching him, and probably most people throughout the World of the Exalted Prima.

“I did not lead you here. You found it by yourself,” a voice echoed throughout the room as energy started gathering in the throne room. “The warnings were there, and I should have heeded them, so do not worry; I blame only my own inadequacy. I shouldn’t have ever questioned his words.”

The energy upon the throne fully gathered as Jake was now certain that this was the sight he’d seen through the Wheel of Samsara. The Eastbound Monk had stood in this chamber before and met this being.

Upon the throne sat a creature that looked mostly humanoid, but clearly wasn’t. His body was metallic and robotic, but not made of any metal Jake recognized. He couldn’t even pinpoint a color or see a face, as if his mind couldn’t fully comprehend what he was looking at. That, or maybe it was because the being was in a constant state of flux, constantly changing, not having a fully set form.

A part of Jake had thought that the Abundant Emperor would have been the one to appear, but it seemed that he’d skipped that step in the hierarchy and gone straight to the top, as Jake was pretty sure he knew who he was looking at.

The Exalted Prima.