Many years later.
At the Source of the World, where time, space, Entropy Power, and death had all utterly lost their meaning, Ash was trekking alone. There were no roads here, only darkness flowing like cold glass. Every step Ash took sank into the darkness, then pulled free again, like a mountaineer challenging a snowy peak.
After Sword Maiden and the others conquered every known World Line, the majesty of the Void Realm Lord radiated from his throne to every corner of every plane where artifice existed. In this great era where all arts returned to one, even the most brutal Artifice Supremacy had to obey the laws in the Sorcerer's Manual and dared not lightly disrupt order. The rebellious Four Pillar Gods had been exiled even farther beyond civilization, into the barren wastes, where they could only rot in boundless solitude until the glory of civilization granted them new life once more.
But this war had to be ended by Ash himself. A personal campaign was a fate no King could escape.
Tap!
Ash stopped. Although endless darkness still lay ahead, in Ash's eyes, an unimaginable Veil had completely sealed artifice outside.
He knew this was the limit for Sword Maiden and the others. Ahead lay an unknown domain that artifice had never polluted.
This was also why the Void Realm Lord had to descend in person, because even if Sonia were willing, she could not do it in his stead. So-called sorcerers were actually sailing on an ocean called artifice. Void Wings were the boat, Spell Spirits were the sailors, and only thus could they voyage to the end of the world. But if it was dry land with no ocean, how was a sorcerer supposed to sail?
Ahead was the withered far shore where sorcerers could not