Chaos, Lord of Nonsense

On the rocky cliff, two beings—a man and a bear—climbed down the vertical, rugged natural wall.

They had already spent months downclimbing without any gear. Both were experts, moving as if born for this.

The bear gripped protruding rocks on the cliffside, descending with meticulous, sure steps, easily avoiding loose rocks and spotting them at a glance.

The same was true for the man—John.

The duo continued their descent leisurely. Even after months, they hadn't made it 1/8 down the cliff. According to John's calculations, it would take at least two years to reach the bottom without rest, or three to five years with occasional breaks.

The journey to Orario was growing longer. Originally a thirteen-year trip, it now stretched to fifteen or even twenty, especially if more obstacles slowed them down.

The bear and I continued to descend. The sun neared the horizon while the moon began to rise.

The sky was split in two—half covered in starry night, the other painted in the orange hue of sunset.

The bear turned to me and talk in his mother tongue. "Hey, it's getting dark."

"Yeah, I know," I said, and with a wave of my hand, a rock platform jutted from the cliff wall—a resting spot.

The platform was seven meters long and wide, with a thickness of seven inches.

On it stood rock huts and a bonfire area.

After finishing the platform and camp, we jumped down onto it and started resting.

The bear went straight to the bonfire area and began preparing a fire, while I walked to the edge of the platform, sat down, and pulled out a fishing rod from my storage space—one I named Gate of Doors. This storage was similar to the Gate of Black.

Upon creation, the Gate of Doors continually produced powerful items and weapons of ??? level, never stopping, expanding endlessly like the Gate of Black.

Although I couldn't access my sealed power, I could still create new ones to rival it—tools usable even in the Old World.

A small door, just a foot tall, appeared. From it emerged the handle of a fishing rod. I took it, closed the gate, and began fishing—for flying fish.

On this cliff, flying fish and wyverns were rampant. This was their habitat. Flying fish looked like regular fish with bird wings, constantly flying, never resting—just like fish never stop swimming.

I cast the line. No bait needed. My fishing techniques didn't require it. With rhythmic movements, I manipulated the line, and then—

Something bit.

"Bingo."

With a sharp pull, I reeled it in. As it neared, I yanked hard.

A massive fish with wings flew through the air and smashed into the cliff wall, embedding itself in the rock.

With a thought, I used earth magic to form a platform below. With a tug on the rod, the fish broke free and dropped onto the new surface.

The fish was big—about seven meters long—and resembled a tuna in shape and behavior, constantly swimming, or in this case, flying. If it stops flying it will die similar to a tuna but in their case swimming.

The bonfire flickered. A huge chunk of flying tuna meat floated above, suspended by my telekinesis.

I cooked while the bear sat beside me, drooling non-stop.

We waited in silence under the starry sky.

Dinner was calm and relaxing. The bear gazed upward, admiring the stars, while I focused on the Tower Barrier—resting at the center of the Old World. This Tower Barrier was much like the one from my red home planet.

Tower Barriers always existed at the heart of every Old and Given World. They were never absent.

This one had a thickness of tens of thousands of kilometers and a height of ???—stretching beyond the multi layer dimensional barrier, vanishing into the atmosphere and disappearing within the barrier that surrounded the atmosphere.

With Anastasia's help, I peered inside the Tower Barrier. The result was the same as back on my red planet.

The bear noticed my gaze and commented.

"If you want, I can introduce you to that mouse."

"What mouse?"

"One of the 100 representatives, I think. I can't remember, but those guys have connections to the great beings inside that thing. In fact, all animals are ruled by them, and when we die, we go to their animal paradise."

"You're all members of the Chaos Sovereignty?"

"Yep. I think we're intel gatherers. But we don't speak directly to them. We talk to the vassal contriues—or however you say it. We don't know what it means, but we know where it is."

"You got any detailed info?"

"No, only the representatives."

"What a shame."

We continued chatting casually while eating. Afterward, we cleaned up, entered our huts, and slept.

Early the next morning, we resumed climbing down.