Chapter 1,350 – Circle of Life

The activity on Greenworth Trade Street acted as white noise while Zac worked on the figurine in his hands. He was sitting in the shade by his store’s entrance, which had become a common occurrence. Anytime Zac wasn’t working on a commission or private project, he liked having the city noise wash over him. Sometimes, he’d take his carving kit to another part of Whitfall. The store didn’t need watching ever since he changed opening hours to appointment only.

The clamor followed a set of patterns. Zac knew that the old cobbler across the street would emerge to smoke his pipe and watch the clouds in around five minutes. Ten minutes later, the hawkers selling lunches from rolling carts would descend on trade street with near-military precision. Every day was a life.

It began with merchants getting things ready at the crack of dawn. It ended long after sundown with family businesses preparing for tomorrow under candlelight. One by one, the lights would go out in the night until darkness reigned. Each day, the wheel turned, moving forward yet standing still.

There was some chaos hidden in the order. There’d be a few new faces every day, each introducing unique variations to the familiar scenes. Like Zac, they became agents of change, though few were fated to elicit anything but small, temporary ripples. The creak from Zac’s left was another variable. Looking over, Zac saw Beene and Helisent emerge and hang the closed sign on their door.

It was spring, and the two rarely had the time to take a walk in the middle of the day. If they weren’t busy managing the shop, they were in the countryside negotiating with farmers or overseeing their plant nursery.

The slightly hunched-over seed salesman was a stark reminder of another agent of change—time and its unrelenting march forward. Beene’s back had grown somewhat stooped, and his graying hairline had receded all the way to the back of his head. While only fifty-five, life had left an intense mark on Beene Peck. His recent change of fortune couldn’t undo decades of stress and malnutrition.

Zac had also come to understand that the lower density of Cosmic Energy wasn’t the only reason for the low cultivation in the shallows. There was significantly more Earthly Taint, which made progress nearly impossible. Even for mortals like Beene, it was like living in a city covered in smog.

If Beene represented life’s decline, then Helisent was a flower in bloom. The inquisitive child had grown into a graceful woman, though the life of a celestial goddess wasn’t for her. Zac had long since confirmed she wasn’t fated with the Dao. A mortal by the System’s standards and without its assistance, Helisent would need a decade of hard work to reach level five.

Practicing one of the top-tier manuals in Everit’s memories wouldn’t make a difference, and sacrificing a significant chunk of her life for such meager gains simply wasn’t worth it. Not that Helisent had expected anything. Working-class children in these mortal cities grew up quickly. There was no time to dream about cultivation when they needed to help the family.

The curious yearning Zac had seen in Helisent’s eyes when he shared morsels of knowledge from the cultivation world had been replaced by steady responsibility. Her older sister had moved out shortly before Zac arrived to live with her husband, and it came upon Helisent to take over the budding seed empire. Beene once confided in Zac it wasn’t the original plan. He’d planned to sell the shop and retire on his modest savings after Helisent followed in her sister’s footsteps.

Time’s passage was far more noticeable in the mortal realm compared to what Zac had grown accustomed to. The lifespan of those in his surroundings had skyrocketed since the integration, but he hadn’t realized how his vantage had changed with it. In many ways, he felt like the same person as before the integration.

Mortal life on Greenworth Trade Street brought continuous inspiration. Zac could understand why so many cultivators chose to return to simplicity this way upon reaching bottlenecks in their cultivation. Zac put down his small carving upon realizing the two were coming over.

Smiling, he asked. “Would the two of you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

“I’m afraid we can’t. We have much to do today. We simply wanted to deliver the good news,” Beene answered with a toothy grin.

“Oh?”

“I’m getting married,” Helisent said with a slight blush.

“Married? You’re just a child,” Zac blurted.

“Only you would think that, uncle. I’m twenty-four, nearly a spinster,” Helisent laughed. “I sometimes wonder if you’re an old man in disguise.”

Zac scratched his chin. She was technically right. Adding the years in this dreamworld and his time in spatial chambers, Zac could indeed be considered an old man by now.

“I know, I know. It still feels like yesterday you were running around the store clamoring for me to tell you stories,” Zac laughed.

“Where did the time go?” Beene sighed in agreement.

Fifteen years, nearly sixteen if you counted the year time Zac spent traveling before renting the store at Greenworth. It was sometimes hard to take in so much time had passed. Well, his current form certainly helped. Time might not have left as strong a mark on him as on Beene, but the signs were undeniably there. Feeling death creep closer was both a novel and alarming experience for someone who should have eons of lifespan remaining.

Zac pushed away the maudlin thoughts. “Is it that flustered chap you brought over the other day?”

“Petryk, yes,” Helisent smiled.

“It’s a good boy. Earnest and hardworking,” Beene said with a satisfied nod. “He’s got little in the way of close kin, so he’s marrying into the family. He’ll help Helisent run things when I’m gone.”

“You’re talking like you got one foot in the grave since you sprained your ankle,” Helisent rolled her eyes before turning back to Zac. “Uncle, what about you? You’re not getting younger, either. I know Jansa is interested. She’s pretty and clever.”

“I’m in no hurry to get married. I still want to focus on my crafts,” Zac rejected like he had many times before.

“What a waste. I thought you were getting ready to settle down now that you’ve stopped running off every month,” Helisent shook her head. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. If Jansa isn’t a a good match, I still have a few friends who’d be willing. Your ripe old age is becoming an issue, but that’s nothing good looks and even better prospects can’t overcome.”

“Go deal with your wedding, girl,” Zac sighed.

“It’s the next month,” Helisent said. “I’m expecting a nice carving as a present.”

“Fine, fine.”

Zac remained in his rocking chair a while longer, watching the father and daughter go from door to door to announce the news and invite the neighbors to the celebration. It was only two weeks before he was part of the funerary procession for the Widow Misa down the street. Greenworth Trade Street was truly a microcosm of Life and Death.

Fifteen years, and still no way of escaping the illusion.

Zac had tried everything. He’d traveled far and wide in search of destiny, going far beyond the bounds of any memory domain he’d visited. Zac had explored the capitals where E-grade cultivators were plentiful, learning that this patch of the shallows was called the Great Yan. He’d repeatedly ventured deep into the Whitmont Forest, nearly dying ten times over.

There was nothing. Apart from the occasional disturbance, Great Yan was like a world separated from the grand events of the Outer Courts and the Imperial Road. Most people in Whitfall hadn’t even heard of the Limitless Empire. They just lived their lives, following in the footsteps of their parents like Helisent. If escaping the illusion was tied to a specific event, then Zac had probably long missed it.

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Zac eventually changed focus to restoring his cultivation. Outwardly, he had nothing to show for his efforts. His soul and Cosmic Core looked the same as when he stepped into Everit’s shoes. They might even be worse, the pieces having settled in their broken state. If restoring his cultivation was possible after all these years, it’d require treasures well out of reach of a mortal like him.

The Void and his other abilities were still out of reach. It had also proven impossible to work on the theoretical aspects of his cultivation. There were blueprints to be deduced and manuals to be improved. All that was impossible without a cultivator’s mind to crunch the millions of interdependent fractals and pathways. He had all the time in the world and no way to take advantage. Having his progress grind to a halt had left him incredibly frustrated.