Chapter 003: The Gate Where the Gods Descend to Dust

Viscous, blood-red, and twisted light and shadow oozed like tainted gore—thick, obscure, and oppressive. In this space, vivid yet utterly monotonous, neither the passage of time nor the shifting of dimensions could be discerned by bodily senses alone.

This, then, was the Imaginary Space—the juncture of the multiverse, the intersection of all dimensions. Born accidentally yet inevitably from the clash of positive and negative universes, it came into being as the four primordial elements warred, annihilated, and balanced each other, ultimately forming an absolute void. In other words, this was a place where all living things vanished, a domain where no mundane law could stand.

The endless layering of dimensions rendered the structure of Imaginary Space so stable as to be nearly indestructible, while the ceaseless annihilation of the four elements led to a complete depletion of magical energy. Thus, even if someone of unparalleled magical might were to shatter the supposedly impenetrable boundary and force their way here, they could never employ the same feat to escape. Under the endless elemental annihilation of earth, fire, water, and wind—the four cosmic origins—every law of the mortal world became nothing more than an illusion, as fleeting as moonlight on water.

Yet it was here, in this void prison theoretically cut off from all existence, that four colossal towers, ancient in form and soaring as pillars to the heavens, abruptly stood.

Each tower symbolized an element, guarding a quadrant of the void: The deep blue tower, as vast as the ocean, stood for water and watched over the far north. The fiery red tower, blazing as flame, embodied fire and guarded the extreme south. The sky-blue tower, as agile and fickle as the wind, represented air and commanded the far west. The ochre tower, steadfast as the earth, signified earth and held the far east.

The four towers, separated by the ends of the world, seemed independent, yet were in truth one. An ultimate law, transcending even magic itself, was inscribed upon the dim void between them, appearing and vanishing like immortal chains forged of radiant gold. An invisible domain enveloped the sanctuary at their center, making it a pure land unto itself.

Within this sanctuary, the density of each element was almost beyond imagining. The four basic elements, usually formless, manifested into tangible, material forms through nothing more than brief, natural condensation: a dragon of water, a sea of fire, butterflies of wind, and a mountain of earth.

Should a master of elemental magic ever set foot here, a mere moment’s focus would allow him to hear the joyous cries of countless elements—like subjects welcoming their king. Yet it seemed that there was not just one king.

Four supreme beings, bathed in a sea of light, merely stood there. The effortless might that emanated from them alone suppressed the eternal laws of Imaginary Space, commanding the four elements in a rare, resplendent convergence—a miracle as profound as divine revelation.

“A fifth elemental structure, unseen in the multiverse, has truly appeared in this world! It seems our lord’s yearning of tens of millions of years shall finally be fulfilled in this age!” The Sovereign of the Boundless Fire Sea spoke, wild and exultant.

“The Child of Descent was discovered years ago. This unforeseen event only confirms his identity. His fate remains unchanged, and so too does our lord’s great wish. All that remains is for us to wait patiently, and when the time is ripe, the grand plan shall unfold.” The Lord of the Deep Blue, surrounded by water dragons, spoke as always in veiled tones, voice drifting like a shadow.

“But… but… Salamander, Undine, can a natural-born Fifth Element truly allow the gods themselves to descend to the mortal realm?” The gentle yet timid Lord of Earth, Gnome, asked in a weak, uneasy voice. “What if—just what if—the plan fails again and triggers another world-ending dimensional collapse, like the one during the humans’ Old Calendar Year 462, when our last descent plan went awry—?”

“Shut your crow’s mouth, Gnome, you coward! Do you know whom you’re doubting? The previous failure was simply because we underestimated the strength of the Celestial Chain’s seal. Now, with an inexhaustible Fifth Element in our grasp, the seal is a mere shell, bound only by a few feeble laws—what could they possibly do against us?” Salamander, the fiery and imperious Lord of Fire, glared with a gaze as sharp as blades.

The dignified Lord of Earth, Gnome, under Salamander’s rage, was left without even the courage to retort, bowing his head in silent submission.

Sylph, the Lord of Wind, interceded at the right moment: “Take heart, Gnome. We’ve prepared for this day for nearly two ages, even at the cost of untold divine power to project our true forms from the distant heavens into Imaginary Space, all to indirectly guide the course of civilization across countless dimensions. This time, the plan for descent is foolproof.” Sylph paused, covering a laugh before continuing, “And even if it should fail again, what of it? The dimensional collapse that mortals dread so much poses no threat to us—at worst, it will only wipe out more of those ant-like humans. For us, the four ancient Pillar Kings of the heavens, what does the life or death of mortals matter?”

“Salamander, is it true that the birth father of the Child of Descent is that new human disciple of yours?” Undine’s face remained icy; her voice betrayed no emotion.

“Disciple? Hmph, nothing more than a humble pawn I granted a few scraps of favor. Long ago I ordered him to secretly keep close watch on his ‘precious son.’ When the time comes, that craven wretch will have no choice but to deliver his own child into my hands—though they say even a tiger will not eat its cub, this one is a desperate wolf at the end of its path… Hah, the petty and laughable wickedness of the human heart is quite an amusing little thing. I find myself looking forward to that day ever more,” Salamander’s lips twisted into a cold curve, equal parts cruelty and mockery; his eyes remained as icy as before.

Midchilda, Central Bureau of Technological Development, Director’s Office.

A man in his prime, golden-haired and crimson-eyed, sat reclined with eyes closed in the seat of ultimate authority. His form was relaxed from exhaustion, yet his brow was furrowed in deep worry.

“The Descent Plan… at last it’s officially begun. The Fifth Element, forming the Gate of the Gods’ Descent—Edeseal Testarossa—my only son—why must he be the one to be sacrificed?”

His fingers dug deep into the roots of his blond hair, once immaculately styled, now in wild disarray like windswept weeds. Agony twisted his features; his mind was a battlefield, torn by inner conflict and paralyzed by doubt. After an eternity, he opened his eyes, and in their depths flashed a ruthless, chilling resolve, obliterating all bonds of blood and kinship—like a starving wolf at last breaking free of its cage, ready to devour all in its path.

Night fell. Shadows, writhing like monstrous worms, crept and slithered in a deathly silence, drowning the man’s frenzied soul and burying the wicked, terrifying expression that might have struck fear even in the hearts of demons condemned to the lowest hell.