Chapter 21: Uninvited Guest

The cracked basalt beneath the party split wider. Endless darkness churned below the World Core. Small chunks of stone broke loose and tumbled down into the abyss.

Then something tore through space.

A jagged black fracture split open beside Hrothgar with a horrible ripping sound. The glowing vines tangled throughout the cavern dimmed instantly. The floating weapons drifted uneasily away from the crack.

Even the eldritch Eye stopped bleeding for a moment.

Hrothgar turned immediately.

The fracture widened slowly across the cavern. Tiny cracks spiderwebbed through the surrounding air before sealing shut again. A pale hand emerged from the darkness beyond.

Long fingers wrapped around both sides of the tear.

Then space ripped apart completely, as easily as cloth beneath a blade.

An old man stepped through. Or at least, something that looked like an old man.

Victor immediately felt his chest tighten.

The pressure flooding the World Core was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Nearby basalt cracked apart violently. The abyss below churned harder. Several ancient weapons dropped from the air entirely, clattering into the darkness beneath.

The old man wore layered black robes beneath a worn fur mantle. Long white hair drifted behind him as his eyes slowly wandered across the battlefield.

Victor did not sense a man standing before him. No… he did not feel human at all. Hrothgar had possessed an oppressive aura, the kind filled with arrogance and self-righteousness, but this was different. This presence felt supreme. Older than anything Victor had ever encountered. Grander than even the World Core itself, as though the being before him had existed long before the universe had taken shape.

The old man’s gaze swept over everyone below.

And when Victor saw those eyes, primal fear seized him.

Those eyes almost drove him mad. They were completely black with a light shade of purple, yet within them tiny specks of light drifted and collided like entire galaxies trapped behind his pupils. The sensation lasted only a split second before the old man’s gaze moved on, but Victor knew with absolute certainty that if it had lingered even a moment longer, he would have either gone insane beneath that stare… or died a very early and very unpleasant death.

Finally, the man spoke, but what Victor did not expect was for his voice to sound so… normal. Like a father returning after leaving his child unattended for one moment only to find him doing something catastrophically stupid.

“…Why is there a giant bleeding eyeball?”

Nobody answered.

Mostly because Hrothgar attacked immediately.

Lightning exploded across the cavern. Thousands of floating weapons shot forward together in a storm of plasma and enchanted steel powerful enough to flatten entire cities.

The old man glanced sideways.

Hrothgar froze. His lightning stopped midair. The weapons halted motionless. But it was not just Hrothgar. Everything stopped, as if time and space themselves bent beneath this man’s whim.

A falling chunk of rubble hung inches above the abyss.

Even the blood dripping from the eldritch Eye suspended silently in the air.

Victor stopped breathing. Not intentionally, the air itself had ceased moving. Yet strangely, it did not feel suffocating. It felt as though the world itself had simply paused.

The old man stared at the frozen lightning for a few quiet moments.

“Hm,” he muttered. “A minor deity. I suppose that’s normal.”

Then he stepped forward.

Reality itself felt wrong around him. Victor suddenly felt distant from his own body, like his soul no longer sat quite right within his flesh. Even the World Core remained utterly silent beneath this man’s presence.

The old man wandered slowly through the frozen battlefield with his hands behind his back.

His gaze drifted toward the ruined remains of Tesla.

“An energy core in the form of a car? Meh. Passable.”

Then toward the eldritch Eye above.

“Outer corruption demon. Annoying, but reasonable.”

His gaze moved once more, but this time he frowned.

“…Catgirls. Why does it always have to be catgirls.”

The old man passed beside the HOA Enforcement Squad. Mrs. Kim remained frozen mid-step while clutching her magical STOP sign. Bok-Nam still held a container of uncooked rice.

He stared at them briefly, not even seeming to possess the energy to comment further. Victor could almost see the bewilderment on the man’s face before he continued onward.

Further ahead, he stopped beside Rook.

The giant siege golem stood frozen protectively near Princess Lataya, still clutching the massive chunk of suburban asphalt and crushed flowers against his chest.

The old man looked down at the asphalt.

“…Did you like dirt?”

Rook remained motionless.

The old man nodded slowly and continued walking, this time approaching Princess Lataya.

Victor tried to move. He couldn’t allow this being, this monster, this… whatever the hell this thing was, to get near her.

Every part of him screamed to move, but the instant he tried, agony shot through his body.

The old man stopped immediately and turned toward him.

Their eyes met.

Unlike before, the old man’s eyes now looked mostly normal. Only his irises retained that unnatural purple hue.

But even without the galaxies swirling within them, Victor understood with absolute certainty that this old man could kill everyone in the cavern without effort.

The old man approached slowly.

Up close, Victor noticed tiny fractures spreading through the surrounding air every few seconds before repairing themselves. Reality itself seemed unable to properly withstand his existence.

“A swordsman wearing a pink magical girl outfit,” the old man murmured. He kneaded his forehead with two fingers, as if trying to ease a growing migraine the longer he remained inside the pocket dimension.

His gaze drifted toward Victor’s burned arm.

“Hmm. Not a bad seedling. Shame he wasted his time with… whatever this is.”

Then his eyes lowered toward the pink magical girl skirt.

The old man fell silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating the people around him. Then, with absolutely no warning, a chair manifested out of thin air behind him. He slumped into it heavily, settling into the cushion with practiced familiarity.

The overwhelming aura of a tyrant towering above heaven and earth vanished instantly. In its place sat an exhausted, sleazy old man who looked utterly fed up with life itself.

He lay there and began muttering aloud, speaking less to them and more to himself, though everyone present unwillingly became his audience.

“…I leave this pocket dimension alone for a few millennia and this is what happens. I knew I should’ve left cultivation techniques behind. Letting these barbarians butcher world energy in their own ways was clearly a mistake. Dammit… if that damnable Flower Supreme finds out about this, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

His arms flailed wildly like a man on the verge of a mental breakdown, though in truth it looked more like a child throwing an apocalyptic tantrum.

“AHHHH! Do you idiots have any idea how many damn times I’ve tried this experiment? Every single time you people somehow manage to screw it up!”

He pointed furiously toward the shattered World Core below.

“Why is it that you always feel the need to destroy the very source of your energy? THE SOURCE OF YOUR DAMN UNIVERSE!”

The old man grabbed at his own hair in frustration.

“No, of course none of you think about me. Why would you? Who cares about the creator of their world? The one who gave you the tools for life, the tools for freedom!”

He suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes at the surrounding crowd.

“And can one of you damnable idiots explain to me why there are always catgirls? Every single time! What is it with you people and fantasizing about this creature?!”

He glared at them ferociously, but unlike the overwhelming pressure from moments before, there wasn’t a shred of it left now. Whatever had once pressed down on the cavern like an ancient collapsing sky was gone without a trace, leaving Viktor, and presumably everyone else, feeling slightly out of sorts, unsure what to make of the situation anymore.

It did not take long before he gave up entirely. His shoulders dropped and he slumped his hand into his palm in a slow, defeated motion. What remained of his imposing aura continued to shift further away from anything like it, and steadily turning into something more and more like a gag character.

“What to do, what to do,” he muttered. “Maybe I should just try again. No, I have to try again. There is no way I am losing my bet to that woman. There is too much at stake.”

His voice sharpened as he spoke, words spilling faster now, as if the thought itself was dragging him forward.

“I don’t care how many times I have to reset this world. They will eventually follow my will and create cultivation techniques of their own without my involvement. I just know it.”

He paused for a fraction, then pushed straight through it again, volume rising like a breaking dam.

“Even if it takes a hundred million more years, I will see this damn thing through!”

He got so animated that he leapt out of his chair, hands pumping upward as his chest heaved up and down in sharp bursts, whether from excitement or some kind of twisted resolve was hard to tell. Whatever it was, those words were starting to sound less and less comforting to Viktor and the rest of the group with every passing second.

But what Viktor saw next nearly gave him a heart attack, if he even could have one at this point, frozen as he was. Princess Lataya, somehow, was able to move. She was walking straight toward the old man. Whether it was some miracle that ignored the pressure entirely or something else was at play, her approaching him was nothing but trouble. Viktor panicked. His thoughts raced. He needed to do something. He had to move. He had to stop her before it was too late. But no matter how much he forced his body, nothing responded. He could only stare at Lataya’s back and, in a strange, broken instinct, pray to whatever this old man was supposed to be, the creator as he claimed, that he would not harm her.

Princess Lataya walked right up to him. The old man was still standing there, lost in his own world, thinking through whatever absurd next step occupied his mind.

Then the little girl reached out and tugged at his black robes.

The gesture startled him slightly. He slowly turned around and looked down at Lataya with an amused expression.

She looked up at him with her large mischievous eyes. “Excuse me, sir, but are you a god?”

The old man smiled faintly.

“...Oh, little girl, I am a tad bit more than just a simple god, but that is merely semantics. What I am more interested in is how you are able to walk.”

Lataya tilted her head at him in confusion.

“Well, but of course I can walk. I have legs, dummy.”

For a moment the old man said nothing.

Then he burst into laughter.

“Of course. Of course. How silly of me.”

He knelt slightly and extended a hand toward her.

“May I hold your hand, little miss? I simply wish to check something quickly, then I shall promptly let go.”

Princess Lataya looked at him suspiciously for a few seconds before slowly holding her hand out toward him. The old man gently took it before closing his eyes.

He stood there silently, seemingly pondering something.

Then a grin slowly stretched across his face.

A very wide grin.

“Supreme spirit root... a supreme spirit root.”

His eyes snapped open.

“I cannot believe it. It has finally appeared again!”

The old man suddenly exploded into motion. He scooped Princess Lataya up onto his shoulders before running wildly across the frozen battlefield in ecstatic joy, hollering and laughing like a man who had just won the greatest bet in existence.

And somehow, despite how utterly insane the situation was, Princess Lataya could not help but laugh alongside him, screaming excitedly as he carried her around through space itself as though it were the greatest amusement ride in the universe.

Soon they settled down and the old man placed Lataya back onto the ground, but even after all that running around, the massive smile never left his face. If anything, it only grew wider the longer he looked at her, as though he were staring at the brightest treasure in all of existence.

Under that intense stare, Princess Lataya fidgeted slightly.

“Why are you so happy, mister?”

The old man suddenly slapped his forehead theatrically.

“Ah, I have completely forgotten to introduce myself. Most people call me by my Daoist title, Space Supreme, but you may call me Uncle Fang.”

“And as for your question, little...”

He gestured for her to finish the sentence herself.

“Princess Lataya, soon to be queen,” she responded assertively.

The old man laughed.

“Well then, Little Lataya, I am so happy because of you. I bet you have absolutely no idea just how special you truly are.”

He leaned down slightly toward her, still beaming like an excited old lunatic who had just stumbled across the greatest discovery of his life.

“Would you like Uncle to explain what makes you so special?”

She nodded immediately.

“Well, that would be because of your spirit root of course. You may not know this, but Uncle here is what people would call a cultivator, and every cultivator requires a spirit root in order to sense and absorb the energy of heaven and earth.”

As he spoke, the excitement in his voice only continued growing.

“But not every spirit root is created equal. Some are weak, some are decent, and a very, very small number stand at the absolute peak. Yours just so happens to be one of those. A supreme spirit root.”

He pointed proudly toward himself with his thumb.

“And do you know who else possesses a supreme spirit root? Your Uncle Fang right here.”

Lataya listened attentively, nodding along seriously as if she understood every single word coming out of his mouth, but to everyone else watching, it was painfully obvious she did not have the slightest clue what this old man was rambling about.

Uncle Fang seemed to realise this as well.

He suddenly rubbed his chin thoughtfully before snapping his fingers.

“Well then, perhaps a visual demonstration would be better. I am sure little Lataya will understand the greatness of cultivators after seeing it for herself!”

He turned toward Hrothgar, who still remained frozen in his attack stance, lightning suspended around him alongside thousands of halted weapons.

“Did you see that pitiful minor deity’s lightning?” Uncle Fang scoffed. “Uncle will show you what true heavenly lightning is supposed to look like!”

The moment those words left his mouth, the smile on Uncle Fang’s face widened into something dangerous.

He rolled up the sleeves of his black robes with the enthusiasm of an old man preparing to show off a party trick nobody asked to see.

Then he pointed upward.

Nothing happened at first.

The cavern remained frozen in absolute silence. Hrothgar’s lightning still hung motionless in the air. The eldritch Eye remained suspended above the shattered World Core while droplets of black blood floated endlessly beneath it.

Then the space above the cavern cracked.

A single thin fracture spread across the darkness overhead.

And heaven screamed.

Victor felt his soul nearly leave his body.

A deafening roar exploded across existence itself as something impossibly vast moved beyond the crack. The entire pocket dimension shook violently. The floating continents surrounding the World Core started trembling hard enough for entire mountains to collapse through their frozen state into the abyss below.

Endless rivers of golden-white lightning churned beyond the fracture in space like furious celestial oceans barely being restrained from descending into reality. Victor could see shapes moving within it. Massive serpentine forms made entirely from thunder twisting through the storm clouds far beyond the tear.

Even frozen, Hrothgar’s expression visibly changed.

Fear.

Pure fear.

Uncle Fang proudly placed his hands on his hips.

“Now this,” he declared happily, “is proper heavenly lightning.”

The crack above widened further.

The instant it did, every weapon in the cavern began vibrating violently. Ancient enchanted blades screamed as cracks spread across their surfaces. Several exploded outright, unable to withstand the pressure leaking from the storm beyond space itself.

Princess Lataya’s own eyes sparkled.

“Ooooooh.”

Uncle Fang immediately looked even more pleased with himself.

“So, are you satisfied now, little one? Do you see the might of cultivation?”

Princess Lataya stared upward at the immense heavenly storm as it slowly receded back into the fracture above. The golden lightning twisted and churned one final time before vanishing into the darkness beyond space itself.

Then she vigorously nodded her little head toward Uncle Fang.

“Perfect!” he declared instantly. “You shall become my one and only disciple!”

The old man grinned so widely Viktor briefly wondered if his face might split apart.

“Alright then, my little disciple, are you ready to join your master, venture across the world, and begin walking the path of cultivation?”

Princess Lataya hesitated.

Her eyes drifted back toward the people behind her. Toward Viktor. Toward the others still frozen throughout the ruined battlefield.

The excitement on her face slowly dimmed.

When she turned back toward Uncle Fang again, her expression carried a strange sense of resignation far too mature for someone her age.

“I want to, Uncle... but I made a promise. I have to become queen and help my friends, so I need to stay here.”

She lowered her head slightly. “I hope Uncle understands.”

For the first time since appearing, Uncle Fang looked genuinely dejected. Still, he did not seem surprised by her answer.

The old man stood there quietly for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, before resolve slowly returned to his face.

“Alright, little one. Your master shall respect your decision.”

He reached into his sleeve before pulling out an old jade manual covered in glowing golden characters. The moment it appeared, the surrounding space trembled faintly.

“But your master will leave you this cultivation manual. It contains every minor realm from Qi Condensation all the way to Immortal Ascension.”

His expression suddenly turned serious.

“I expect you to cultivate diligently. Within it you will also find your master’s own experiences and insights regarding every minor realm.”

Then he narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You had better impress me because although I am leaving now, I shall return in five thousand years to check your progress personally.”

The old man turned toward the shattered World Core beneath them. His smile faded.

The massive abyss still split through the land below while reality itself continued fracturing around the cavern walls.

Uncle Fang sighed heavily.

Then he casually waved his hand, the World Core healed instantly.

The abyss vanished without a trace. Shattered land reformed itself. Cracks spreading through reality sealed shut one after another. The eldritch corruption evaporated into nothingness as though it had never existed in the first place.

Within seconds the catastrophic destruction that had nearly doomed their universe was simply... gone.

As easily as wiping dust from a table.

Uncle Fang turned back toward Princess Lataya and handed her a small token engraved with countless shifting symbols.

“If you reach the realm high enough to leave this pocket dimension before I return, this token will guide you to me.”

His smile softened slightly.

“And while carrying it, nothing in existence shall dare harm you on your journey.”

Reluctantly, the old man stepped back.

It was painfully obvious he did not want to leave this perfect disciple behind, but Viktor could tell he believed this was necessary. That she needed to walk her own path rather than simply being dragged upward by his hand.

Just as he turned toward the spatial tear once more, Princess Lataya suddenly spoke again.

“Uncle... I mean Master...”

Uncle Fang paused immediately.

She looked down nervously before asking in a timid voice.

“Do you have the power to bring people back from the dead?”

The old man looked at her quietly for a moment.

Then he smiled.

A translucent shard of ice formed within his fingers out of nowhere. He lightly cut his fingertip against it before allowing a single drop of glowing blood to fall into the crystal.

The entire cavern shook the instant the blood entered it.

Uncle Fang handed the crystal to her carefully.

“If you shatter this while thinking about the person you wish to revive, they shall appear before you exactly as they were before death.”

Then his expression grew slightly more serious.

“But I warn you, little one... the person you revive may not necessarily wish to return to life.”

Princess Lataya carefully held the crystal against her chest.

Uncle Fang looked at her one final time before stepping back toward the tear in space.

“Until we meet again, my little apprentice.”

Then he paused briefly.

“Oh, and smell ya later, losers.”

And just like that, one of the mightiest cultivators in existence stepped back into the darkness beyond space itself.

The tear slowly sealed shut behind him.

Silence returned to the cavern once more.

Viktor stared ahead blankly at the empty space where the old man had vanished.

For the first time in his life, he had never felt more useless.