The history of the third island was vague.
For a very long time, countless trillions of years ago, the entire Land of Nothingness was enveloped in chaos. Gods came and Gods died. Gods populated the earth and acted as the soil that birthed later civilizations.
When the era of chaos ended, all of the islands drifted apart and a more linear trial was created for those who entered this realm. With that development, the pointless slaughter became meaningless and most people stopped their reckless actions.
From that point on, every island changed on its own, becoming more suitable for the trials in place. The first island was for the weakest of the weak, so it remained in a more primordial state. The second island was able to form something of a civilization, but many factors held it back from truly thriving. The third island was a unique case even when compared to the two islands that came after it. It was the only place in the entire Land of Nothingness where such a widespread civilization of innocents was created.
The fourth island was bare, and the fifth island's people could hardly be called a civilization.
What made the third island special?
Sure, its development could be partially attributed to its trial and the convenience it had as the middle of the five islands. Since this island's trial required at least a semblance of order to exist, it was bound to develop in a different direction than its peers.
The middle island was also a great stopping point. Even before the three temples were established, the aura of the third island was already far more welcoming than the rest. Even Damien felt it when he arrived, that cool breeze that made him feel like he was back at home.
An environment that made one complacent. The third island possessed it in a way that could not be replicated, and when they were faced with their own lack of talent or understanding, it made it easy for practitioners to choose surrender over battle.
However, these developments only happened because the third island was originally special.
It had a past that was unknown to even the three temples, as it was erased before any of them came to be.
During a period of great war following the establishment of the trials, at a time when the Prison Master was not yet an Area Lord and was only establishing himself as the warden of the Eternal Sanctum, countless heroes and demons rose and fell.
They stood at a level that modern people could not hope to reach. It wasn't because they were untalented, but because society had developed too much.
The primordial mentalities of people who only studied the relationships between elements with their eyes and hearts were able to perceive a world that people could no longer see. They had too much information, which completely changed the way that their techniques were manifested.
If the two generations were placed against each other, it was hard to say that one side would have a definite advantage, but both sides would absolutely be able to pull out techniques that the other simply didn't have the perspective to understand.
The Prison Master remembered those days.
More than his dreary life as a warden that he only kept living because of the weight of his duty, his mind drifted to the days when he was still young.
It had been a very long time since he last saw a hero of the caliber that existed back then.
And, it had been just as long since he'd seen a crueler demon.
They did not operate together, but it was wrong to say that they operated alone. They were an organization that was not an organization, a group of like-minded people who only followed chaos.
It was once the name of a concept. At the very beginning, it was an entity without form, an energy of pure disorder that drove people who witnessed it into fanaticism.
But one day, that disorder took form.
The cause was assumed to be a reaction between the faith of those people and the realm of that which did not exist, creating an entity that should have never been born.
Most of this island's development could be directly attributed to that entity. Whether to combat Chaos or follow it, people built and destroyed civilizations. People fought and fought and fought, and when Chaos was eventually imprisoned, society was finally able to rise from the ashes to ensure that another being of the same kind would not appear. Chaos was kept in the deepest depths of the world, sealed in a facility that far surpassed the Eternal Sanctum in security. In fact, today's Eternal Sanctum was developed based on what others hypothesized was used to seal Chaos itself.
But the Prison Master knew better than anyone else. This prison could not even come close to the location where Chaos was sealed.
That place was far, far too complex to be the development of someone on the third island. Rather, it was more likely that an Absolute found a way to return to this realm and calm its chaos. For that reason, it could not be Chaos.
Chaos could not rise again. Even the level of belief it received in the current era was far from its peak. It was considerably weakened, as it was a force that could not survive without people believing in it.
A so-called Spiritual God. That was what Chaos became.
'...has that age dawned on us again?'
The man who did not understand how he came to be trapped in his own body wondered as he looked out of the windows in his manor.
Some days ago, he met someone who resembled the heroes of the previous era.
And, the one who took him hostage and schemed against civilization itself bore an eerie resemblance to Chaos itself.
Whether a new Spiritual God was born or a strand of Chaos escaped, the Prison Master did not know.
But, even if there was a hero attempting to change fate, he could not believe that the era of chaos was not destined to return.
It was already too late.
'Perhaps it is time for change.'
The Prison Master by no means supported the Chaos Faction. If he was someone who could ever harbor dissident thoughts, he wouldn't have been able to maintain his role throughout the countless changes that civilization had undergone in the past billions of years.
Nevertheless, he was a man who understood that the seas of fate were already churning.
"Change" would inevitably come to this land.
'Will it be a change instilled by a hero or one controlled by a demon?'
In this realm, he was nothing more than an observer. In this conflict, even more so.
Thus, he watched as a change in the force surrounding the manor disappeared as if it never existed in the first place.
He did nothing even while knowing that an intruder was making their way into the prison that he'd kept guarded for so long.
When that disturbance that even he could not sense appeared, the Prison Master made a firm decision.
He would no longer have a part in this conflict.
Now that its main characters had entered the stage…
…it was up to them to decide whose path was true and destined.