It was yet another day in the Crack, and things seemed as chaotic as usual. Streaks of light stretched far away into the distance, where they blended into a swirling vortex of energy. Beyond, another vortex of pure energy churned almost in defiance against it, sending clouds of ethereal fog about it.

A man standing atop a large meteor trained his gaze upon the duality of the spheres. The Eternal War continued for thousands of years, or so they said. He wouldn’t know. It’d been but centuries since he took part in this conflict, and there were still many things he didn’t understand.

That didn’t change the reality of the situation, however. There were whispers being exchanged under shaded hands, rumors about how the final reckoning was drawing close, that unlike the last few clashes, this time the ants that managed to seep through the punctured space-time holes wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the Endless Hordes.

The Everquest was forcing their hands to make a final, true attack on the Three Realms to secure the Heavenly Dao for good.

Nowadays, battles between Celestial Immortals and the equivalent forces of the Endless Hordes, who were called Heralds, had become fairly common. Rarely did any of the parties involved lose their lives in the conflict, but it was the intention that was the most important. If the System had grown desperate enough to force its precious Heralds into conflict, then the rumors were likely true.

Even now, it was whispering into his ears, promising him things beyond his dreams, its voice hissing like a venomous snake. Worlds. Planets. Wealth so grand that it was enough to spark the notion in his mind that perhaps he could even buy some peace with it.

Strange thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Invasive thoughts. They hung people for less around this part of the Three Realms.

But he wasn’t particularly bothered by the idea of death. One grew quickly out of it when years had become meaningless. Time, after all, meant little here, a concept over which quite a few Daofathers held sway.

Trouble was, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Or rather, he was doubtful whether it was truly the lesser evil he’d decided to serve under. Lately, he found himself thinking more and more about them. Was the Immortal Path truly any different than the System’s so-called freedom? Would it be such a terrible fate if the System conquered the Heavenly Dao and claimed it as its own?

He hadn’t any clue, but Daofathers and Daomothers seemed pretty sure that the only outcome to such a fate would be their doom. Hardly a surprise, considering they were just as desperate to create abominations to throw at the System, hoping it would stick.

Sighing out a long breath, he turned ever so slightly and cast his gaze upon the thousands of worlds that stretched beyond the veil. His eyes glanced over the smaller ones, his gaze lingering a moment longer on a blue sphere that hung there like a tiny piece of sapphire before he focused on the 99th world that stood closer to the Crack than the others.

His Divine Will reached from inside the Crack and through the invisible pathways, coating the grand world—a feat that any True Immortal could do with ease. There, he focused on the Eastern Continent, a faint smile stretching his lips.

Already he could feel the familiar auras of friends of old. There, on the Jade Throne, sat a stubborn child that refused to adhere to the wisdom of his predecessors. An array of people served him, among which were friendly faces and hostile ones, hidden under their sheep-like skin. Power and authority. Greed so stark that it filled their eyes with a glint full of spite.

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Beyond the capital, thousands of tiny dots scurried about the borders, always planning, thinking themselves too clever. Their thorns reeked of rot and death. It seemed that old Snake had its way in the Endless Hordes and once again sent its Legion to the same nest, even though it faced a brutal defeat in the past.

He was scarcely surprised. Vipers were vindictive in nature, after all.

A sudden jolt jerked him back when his gaze settled on a far mountain. It was cleaved across with what seemed like a sharp saber, its peak already crumbled and vanished halfway into the earth. No sign was left of his old friend, the one he’d caged there against his will.

Yet another regret. It seemed he was full of them lately.

Still, he smiled as he sensed a curious streak of Dao near the Anguished Mountains, coming from a tiny city that sprawled beyond it. It was one of the few places that lacked the signs of that venomous Viper.

But no… There were signs of it there, the touch of its thorns unmistakable in the air. Yet they were faint and were diminishing slowly as the spiritual energy cleansed the filth. Somehow, someone must’ve unearthed them and crushed their cores.

Who? It was not yet time for the reckoning. Even as impatient as it was, that Viper would never allow its spawn to act on their own.

“Oh?” he muttered, slowly rising to his feet. He brought his sword down and stabbed its tip into the meteor underneath his feet, leaning over the handle to gaze across the distance. His smile slowly widened until he barked out a laugh.

“Haha! So it is a fellow of mine?”

He shook his head as his eyes searched for the owner of that unique streak of Dao. He found him there in that little city, working before a set of stoves, little children aiding him as he prepared a… soup?

It looked like chicken soup, one that carried a hint of mana and spiritual energy both. He was deliberate with his moves, fingers moving about the counters with a certain deftness. Almost a Swordmaster of his own, and yet his stage was the kitchen rather than a true battlefield.

Under those gentle lines, however, a fire burned. So strong and full of vitality that even he could feel its warmth from here.

“A new Chosen to fill my place…” he muttered, thoughtful.

Then slowly, another smile bloomed on his face. He’d been waiting to see who would be unfortunate enough to be tasked with the job he failed to accomplish. Who, indeed, would fill the gap he’d left in that world?

The other grand worlds all had their Chosen, chained with a fate that was bound to be lonely and full of grief. He himself experienced the same, and in the end, the heaviness of the responsibility had proved too much for him. Eventually, he had to leave to join the Daofather in the Crack. His inner demons forced him to vacate the seat.

“A fire and a stove…” he said, one hand under his chin. His eyes widened when it dawned on him. “A chef! He’s really a chef! One with a fire burning in his heart!”

His skin prickled all of a sudden, mind reeling as realization struck him. There was only one Master who would take a chef as their disciple. A most gentle one, and yet terrifyingly strong as well. Most knew her for her cooking, her eternal grace, and the endless love she bore for all the living in the world.

However, only a few knew that she was the Paragon of Flames as well.

“Daomother Xiang has finally accepted a new disciple, then?” He shook his head. The last time that happened, things went… wrong. Her disciple betrayed her and chose the System instead. That bastard was still out there. “Interesting… We’ll see if this is a gift or a curse.”

Space warped nearby. Lights coalesced into a figure with shoulders wide like a bear and a face fitting his size. Long, black hair mixed into his thick beard. His teeth seemed to be hacked straight into his stubble, shining white in the dark of the cosmos. A deftly crafted sword was clasped in his hand.

“What is it?”

The bearded man hovered near him and bowed his head. A smile strained on his lips as he looked up.

“Daofather has summoned you, Senior Brother Xia,” he said, looking relaxed. “I think he’s worried that you’re spending too much time on your own nowadays.”

“Worried, is he? Then lead the way, Junior Brother,” he said, giving him a nod. A smile parted his lips as he turned for one last time to gaze at his old world. “I can finally be at ease. Fellow Brother, I’m counting on you. Show me what a chef can do to change that world.”

Then together with his Junior Brother, they vanished into the space, leaving behind streaks of blurred lights.