The truth settled into place quietly.
It answered a question Rowan Mercer had been circling since arriving in this world. Whether there were gods above it. Whether there was a higher court, a celestial hierarchy, or something watching from beyond the veil.
According to the memories Tobias Jinmont had guarded for decades, the answer was simple.
There was nothing up there.
Long ago, individuals like Zhang Huaiyi and the cult leader known as Rootless One had uncovered a hidden site tied to an ancient mystic, a place where the myths of ascension were supposedly born. For centuries, practitioners believed that the strongest among them eventually transcended this world, shedding their mortal form and stepping into a higher realm.
They were wrong.
What those ancient figures actually discovered was far less glorious. There was no heaven, no divine domain waiting beyond the clouds. The so-called act of ascension was dissolution. A final merging. The individual consciousness unraveled and became part of the world's underlying energy, indistinguishable from wind, stone, and time itself.
It was not transcendence.
It was erasure.
Every major leader who reached that threshold learned the truth. And every one of them was bound by a mental seal the moment they did. A safeguard as absolute as the one Rowan had encountered in the Grand Master's mind. The secret could not be spoken, not even to their closest disciples.
The reason was brutally practical.
If the ultimate goal of a lifetime of devotion turned out to be annihilation, most would break. Faith would collapse. Entire traditions would rot from the inside. The foundations holding this world together would crumble.
So the lie was preserved.
Zhang Huaiyi was the exception.
The art he created allowed him to dismantle those ancient seals. It let him speak the truth. And that single fact meant he could never return home.
If he did, his master would have been forced into an impossible choice. Kill him to bury the secret forever, or pass on the Grand Mandate, binding Zhang Huaiyi with the same seal and dissolving himself into the world in the process.
Either way, someone would be lost.
Tobias Jinmont understood that. Which was why he never spoke. Why he never slept. Why he replaced rest with endless meditation, terrified that a stray dream might undo centuries of silence and destroy everything he loved.
Rowan stepped out of the memories with a slow breath.
So there were no gods waiting above.
No higher authority ready to intervene.
The world ended here.
Strangely, that realization loosened something in his chest.
He left Tobias Jinmont's courtyard as quietly as he'd entered and returned to his quarters. Before dawn, he began studying what he'd taken from the mountain. Defensive constructs. Lightning manipulation. Binding techniques. The spirit-command art taken from Alex Ward.
It was enough to keep him occupied for a long time.
The next morning marked the fourth day of the tournament.
Rowan arrived at the arena lighter than he'd felt since coming here. With the world's limits clearly defined, there was no need for excessive caution anymore. He could explore, learn, and act without constantly looking over his shoulder.
His quarterfinal match drew a crowd.
Partly because the previous fights had been anticlimactic. One contender had surrendered after a brief conversation. Another withdrew due to injuries. Spectators were hungry for something real.
Partly because this match promised it.
Rowan Mercer versus Aureo Windmere.
Aureo had recently bound a powerful entity to himself, and the boost was obvious. Confidence radiated off him as he stepped onto the platform, though there was hesitation in his eyes.
"I know I'm outmatched," Aureo said honestly. "My father told me to withdraw. But I'd regret it if I didn't at least try. If you want me to concede now, I will."
Rowan studied him for a moment, then waved it off.
"No need," he said calmly. "Show me what you've got."
For the first time since arriving in this world, Rowan meant it.
The answers Tobias Jinmont had guarded all his life finally settled into place.
For Rowan Mercer, it was like fog burning away under a hard sun. The question he had carried since stepping into this world had always been simple: was there something above it? A higher court. A divine hierarchy. Gods watching from a greater height.
According to what Tobias remembered, the answer was no.
Long before the current era, a group of exceptional figures had uncovered a hidden site tied to the work of an ancient mystic. It was there that the legends of ascension had taken shape. For generations, practitioners believed that those who reached the pinnacle of their path eventually shed mortality and stepped into a higher realm.
That belief was wrong.
What they had actually discovered was not transcendence, but an ending.
There was no heaven. No celestial city. No higher order waiting beyond the sky. The act people called "ascension" was nothing more than total dissolution. The individual consciousness unraveled, breaking apart and dispersing into the fabric of the world itself, becoming indistinguishable from the forces that governed it.
Wind. Stone. Time.
The strongest didn't rise above the world.
They vanished into it.
Every major leader who reached that threshold learned the truth. And every one of them was bound the moment they did. A mental seal was placed upon them, absolute and unbreakable, ensuring the secret could never be spoken aloud.
The reason was painfully clear.
If the ultimate goal of an entire way of life turned out to be annihilation, belief would collapse overnight. Most would lose themselves to despair. Traditions would rot from the inside. The structures holding this world together would fail.
So the lie endured.
Nathaniel Hale was the exception.
The discipline he created allowed him to dismantle those ancient seals. It gave him the ability to speak the truth that everyone else was forbidden from sharing. And that single difference meant he could never return to the mountain.
If he did, his master would have faced an impossible choice. Kill him to bury the secret forever, or pass on the Grand Mandate, binding Nathaniel with the same seal and dissolving himself into the world in the process.
Either path ended in loss.
Tobias Jinmont understood that. Which was why he never slept. Why he replaced rest with endless meditation. He was terrified that a stray dream, a half-formed murmur, might destroy everything his master had sacrificed to protect.
Rowan withdrew from the memories slowly.
So there were no gods waiting above.
No hidden tribunal. No cosmic overseers.
This world ended at its own ceiling.
The realization didn't unsettle him. If anything, it loosened something in his chest. The absence of higher authority meant freedom. Real freedom.
Rowan left Tobias Jinmont's courtyard before dawn and returned to his quarters. As the sky lightened, he began studying what he had taken from the mountain. Defensive constructs layered with intent. Lightning manipulation refined through discipline rather than brute force. Binding techniques meant to restrain entities far stronger than their casters.
Alongside them, the spirit-command art he'd taken from Alex Ward.
It was enough to keep him busy for a long time.
The fourth day of the tournament arrived quietly.
For the first time since coming to this world, Rowan felt relaxed as he stepped toward the arena. With its limits clearly defined, there was no need to move cautiously anymore. He could explore openly. Learn freely. Act without constantly calculating unseen consequences.
His quarterfinal match drew a crowd.
Part of it was disappointment. The earlier bouts had ended without spectacle. One contender had surrendered after a brief conversation. Another withdrew due to lingering injuries. Spectators wanted something real.
The rest of it was anticipation.
Rowan Mercer versus Aureo Windmere.
Aureo had bound a powerful entity to himself, and the change was obvious. Strength radiated from him, dense and unfamiliar. Still, when he faced Rowan, there was no arrogance in his expression.
"I know I'm not your equal," Aureo said frankly. "My father told me to withdraw. But I'd regret it if I didn't step onto the field myself. If you want me to concede now, I will."
Rowan studied him for a moment, then shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "Fight."
For the first time since arriving in this world, Rowan meant it.