What you worry about is exactly what arrives. Lin Moyu felt a bit cursed—how did his marker just vanish for no reason? And with no warning at all. Since entering this heaven's remains he'd lost his sense of time—who knew how long it had been?—but he'd never run into danger. He'd thought maybe there wasn't any. Then his marker suddenly disappeared. That signaled danger existed here—he just didn't know where it was.
Suddenly, several undead servitors vanished as well—gone just like the marker, for no reason, with not a hint beforehand. One instant they were there; the next, the link was cut. In his storage world, the slots for those servitors were now empty—meaning those undead were truly dead, with no chance of revival. Danger had arrived without him noticing—and the worst part was he still didn't know its source.
With a thought, the Calamity Scepter appeared in his hand. Here, the Du'e Ark, the Cause-Seeking Ring—none of it worked. The undead servitors clearly couldn't withstand the threat. His greatest reliance, besides his own power, was now the Calamity Scepter. Fortunately, the scepter wasn't suppressed here at all. Its tier was extremely high—after all, it could punch a hole in the Wall of Heaven and Earth. By that standard, its level might even surpass those of the supremes.
The Primordial Gem lit up, projecting its tiny figure. "You really came, huh? Bold enough."
After a while, it had reverted to its cocky, high-and-mighty self, forgetting who the master was.
Lin Moyu let it slide. "These heaven-remains are dangerous."
"Of course they are," the Primordial Gem said. "Which heaven's remains aren't? Some dangers are overt, some are hidden. Overt ones are actually easier to handle."
"So I picked the wrong heaven, then?" Lin asked.
"There's no 'right' or 'wrong.' Your realm is low, but in other heavens, realm matters least. Your power isn't weak—you might be able to cope." The Primordial Gem added, "I remember the supremes of various heavens used to cultivate squads dedicated to searching heaven-remains for treasures."
Lin frowned. "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"You didn't ask. And how was I to know you'd actually come? I thought you were joking," it sniffed.
Lin was speechless. "Treasure-hunting in heaven-remains—what treasures? Things from different heavens don't cross over. The finest treasure here could be trash in another heaven."
"They're certainly good things—things that appear only in heaven-remains. Since Master knows nothing, I'll enlighten you." The Primordial Gem laid it out:
Every heaven has a core origin called the Primordial Core. When a heaven first forms, it births Primordial Qi, sourced from that core. When a heaven collapses, two outcomes are possible. One: total annihilation—no remains at all, nothing left. That's rare. Two: the heaven leaves remains. Within those remains, the grievances of uncounted beings, the heaven's own resentments, and the supreme's resentments gather and won't disperse. Over time they evolve into many kinds of dangers. Some are overt: the entire remnant is like a deathland—danger every moment. Some are hidden: at first it seems safe, but no one knows when danger will strike—maybe ages later, maybe the very next second. In overtly dangerous remains, the threats are dispersed and balanced—if you can withstand them, you're fine. In hidden-danger remains, the threat is concentrated and powerful, and its timing is unpredictable—thus more troublesome.
"The supremes sent teams into shattered heaven-remains to seek Primordial Cores and strengthen their own heavens," the Primordial Gem said. "They'd pay enormous prices—even fight other supremes to the death. But that's all in the past. Now the heavens are all shattered; only remnants exist. Today there are only two heavens: the Ancient Chaos Wasteland you're in, and your own."
"Do you know why the heavens all shattered?" Lin asked.
The Primordial Gem seemed annoyed. "Didn't Master ask that before? I don't know!"
"I did? Must've forgotten," Lin said blandly.
"Forget it, then. Don't repeat yourself; it makes you look foolish. Better think about how to find the Primordial Core."
"And if I can't?"
"Then you might be stuck here forever. Or die here, which would tidy things up—no more fighting and killing," it said breezily.
"What kind of thing is that to say?" Lin forced a smile. "Can't you try optimism?"
"I'm just being honest. Fighting and killing are tedious." It hadn't finished when Lin's soul suddenly warned him. He reflexively leapt back.
A gray gleam dropped from above, landing exactly where he'd just been. Silent, it vanished on impact as if it had never existed. In the instant he saw it, Lin's soul trembled; instinct told him that gray gleam was extremely dangerous. His earlier marker and undead servitors had likely been erased by it. Something in that gleam could wipe out anything.
"See?" the Primordial Gem said. "That's one of the dangers: a Kill Ray—it erases all. Everything that enters this heaven will be locked onto and attacked by it. When it strikes, though—no telling. Could be long; could be the next moment."
"If that's all, I can dodge," Lin said.
"Of course that's not all. This is just the start—there'll be changes. And a Kill Ray is only one kind; there are others. This heaven, though shattered, retains a lot of power. The dangers won't be few. By the density alone, this heaven must've been very strong—and its supreme formidable. Be careful, Master."
"Noted," Lin said darkly. "If it comes again, I'll use you as a shield."
"No problem," the Primordial Gem replied, unbothered. "But Master can't rely on me forever. You still need to find the Primordial Core—otherwise you truly can't go back."
"You know how to find it?" Lin asked.
"Since Master sincerely asks, I'll tell you," it said with a smirk. "It's not hard. The Primordial Core is a heaven's source; its location is fixed—the center of the heaven. When the heaven was intact, it was so vast that locating the center was extremely difficult. Like the Ancient Chaos Wasteland—you simply can't pin down a center. But after collapse, the heaven shrinks—might be smaller than a Great World—so it's much easier. The only snag is the endless dust: it blinds sight and dulls soul sense. Finding the core in this mess still isn't easy; feeling your way could take who knows how long."
The Primordial Gem offered a simple, effective method: use a wisp of Primordial Qi as a guide to search for the Primordial Core. No matter the heaven, no matter its rules or attributes, Primordial Cores are fundamentally similar—same root, same source. Primordial Qi can resonate with it and point the way.
"That's how those guys did it," it said. "Master has Primordial Qi—do the same." When a heaven forms, most Primordial Qi is consumed, but some remains in the core as the foundational bedrock. After a supreme is born and masters a heaven, they can draw out core Primordial Qi and use it as bait to hunt Primordial Cores in other remains—gaining more Primordial Qi to reinforce their own heavens. That was the norm back then.
Lin wasn't a supreme, but his storage world was full of Primordial Qi—using a little was easy. "If I find a Primordial Core, can it strengthen my heaven?"
"No," the Primordial Gem said at once. "Master can't use it."
"Why?"
"Your heaven was just born; its Primordial Qi is still welling up and hasn't hit its ceiling. It doesn't need outside power. And we don't even know if your heaven is 'alive' or 'dead.' If it's a dead heaven, then no amount of Primordial Qi will help—dead heavens can't last long; at most a billion years before they self-collapse. Also—" It stopped.
"What else?" Lin pressed.
"Master can't use a Primordial Core—but we can." By "we," it meant the other four gems. The Calamity Scepter was a household; the Primordial Gem was the steward. Each gem could act alone or in concert.
"Either way, I have to leave here," Lin said. "Core or no core, I'm finding it." Otherwise, he might never get out.
He abruptly jumped back again. Two Kill Rays fell in quick succession, front and back, tracking his path. His keen soul sense let him dodge a step ahead—but now they were coming in pairs, following his trail.
"You've been marked," the Primordial Gem said. "More Kill Rays will come, and faster. If it's only Kill Rays, fine—what I don't know is whether others will show up."
"What others?"
"Many. Kill Rays are born of the heaven's and its beings' murderous will. There can also be Grievance Rays from resentment, Rage Rays from fury, Pain Rays from suffering… When a heaven breaks and all those life-and-death emotions reach their extremes, they condense into many things. I rather hope some others appear," it said, with a hint of anticipation.
While they spoke, hundreds more undead servitors were erased by Kill Rays. Their revival ability was useless here. Judging by the death intervals, the frequency was indeed rising.
Lin stopped dawdling. He drew out a wisp of Primordial Qi. It gleamed and drifted toward the distance, tracing a bright line through the dusty gloom. Lin followed. The qi moved slowly and kept changing direction. He could faintly feel it resonating with something.
"When the world collapsed, the Primordial Core was damaged," the Primordial Gem said. "Some Primordial Qi leaks out—there are traces everywhere here. Those remnants interfere with the resonance and throw off the direction. But it's fine—you'll get there in the end."
The tiny figure glanced around with big eyes, as if searching for something. Lin didn't ask.
The Primordial Qi he'd released was weakening—the environment wore it down. At this rate it would be spent in half a day.
"So sending squads to hunt cores in remains was an investment," Lin mused. "Botch it, and you not only fail to find a core—you lose Primordial Qi."
"Exactly," the Primordial Gem said. "Investments fail all the time. The same remnant might see teams from several supremes, leading to clashes—sometimes even wars between supremes."
"Why didn't the supremes go themselves?"
"They couldn't," it said. "A supreme is a heaven. If they enter another heaven, that heaven collapses. They're too strong. Force their way in, and the other heaven shatters. So they needed teams to search remains instead. There were plenty of remains—many dead heavens self-collapsed back then."
Half a day later, the wisp of Primordial Qi grew feebler and slowed. Lin drew out another and continued. During that half day, gray Kill Rays fell again and again, more frequent and numerous. Thanks to his sharp soul sense he dodged each one by a hair. He'd already recalled all undead; leaving them out was pointless—just sending them to die.
"I feel we're getting close," the Primordial Gem said. This remnant wasn't huge; after half a day, that sounded right.
A flash of seven-colored light flickered ahead. Lin's heart lurched; illusions blossomed before his eyes. "Not good!" He willed the phantasm away and darted sideways. As he moved, Kill Rays slashed down in sheets, pelting the ground along his retreat line. If he'd hesitated a step, he'd have been struck—life or death uncertain. His rebirth boon might not even work here; not a gamble to take.
Under the rainbow glow the illusions swelled, harder to dispel.
The Primordial Gem, however, cried out in delight, "Phantasm Rays! Little Soul—get to work!"