Elder Cultivator

The difference between the fifty-ninth star and the sixty-eighth might have seemed small to those who didn’t understand, but even if each star was equally valuable a nearly fifteen percent increase in power was not something to be trifled with. Both were inside of Life Transformation, however, so they could vaguely match up against each other.

The two people in question were Anton and Grand Elder Kseniya. At the current moment they were fifty kilometers apart in the open deserts of Droca. Neither had anything resembling shelter, but mundane terrain would make little impact on their attacks regardless. The empty terrain was chosen so they wouldn’t have to worry about collateral damage to anything of import. That included local communities, of course.

It was impossible for someone to call a start to the match. Someone standing in the middle shouting, if their voice could even travel to the two combatants, would take a full minute before it was heard on either side. Instead, the match started with Anton’s movements. He was the one at the disadvantage, after all, so it was fair enough.

For the sake of experimentation, his first shot took on the properties of light. It wasn’t a perfect replica, as true light seemed to arrive instantaneously, even at such large scales. But it was swift enough, weaving its way through the barrage of counterattacks that Kseniya lodged in its direction. A hit, but unfortunately Kseniya was able to predict the precise target of his attack and gather her defensive energy there to negate his attack. The shots she fired to shoot his own attack out of the sky weren’t suddenly gone just because they didn’t impact his own attack, and their trajectories were very slightly altered to target him instead. He already had his own counters on the way, of course.

The area between the two archers was like a curved arch of light as attacks went back and forth. Some collided in explosive detonations while others got much closer to their ultimate targets. Neither archer found much point in firing in a wider trajectory. Both of their senses extended well around them, so an attack curving around the side would simply take longer to arrive. Only when that was used to an advantage did it make sense.

Anton couldn’t say he learned everything from Kseniya, but at minimum half of his style came from her. His one possible advantage was the number of simultaneous attacks he could manage. Kseniya had a higher rate of fire and could time multiple arrows to arrive together, but Anton had the advantage of shooting from multiple bows at once.

Whenever he could, Anton would disrupt a more powerful attack with a weaker light based shot. Kseniya’s attacks weren’t so flimsy that a slight disruption would tear them apart, but it was possible with the right angle and just enough power that he came out ahead. Even forcing an arrow to evade his own reduced its effectiveness slightly.

His feet were constantly on the move, even before the first shots got close. It was difficult to truly move unpredictably, but changing his direction at somewhat random intervals and facing some arrows head on bought him breathing room.

Both sides had a limit to the number of arrows they could fire as well as how many they could have in transit, as each required some amount of control and energy output. The small advantages were gained when either side could disrupt the other’s rhythm, or pull tricks with their own.

After a short time Anton knew he had lost- but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. Every moment taught him something. It wasn’t just watching a great archer like Kseniya, but an intentional act on her part. But the mere fact that she was teaching him didn’t make him feel able to let down his guard for an instant, as arrows whizzed past him from all directions, often detonating when they got close.

Even holding back for the sake of Anton’s learning Kseniya would doubtless defeat him, but perhaps in a decade or two things would be different. The gap between them that had once felt completely insurmountable was now merely a matter of narrowing the distance piece by piece.

The barrage that finally got Anton involved dozens of arrows from all direction focusing in on him, cutting off his movements as they targeted every part of him. He avoided all but one of them which slipped between his ribs… then faded away. Anton was not so foolish as to think it wouldn’t have gone through his heart and decimated everything inside of his ribcage if that was the true intention. It wasn’t simply power that beat him, though, but technique. That made a much bigger gap than simply nine ranks of cultivation.

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Everyone was growing restless, and the answer to that restlessness was ultimately an intercontinental competition. The looming threat of the coming invasion was felt keenly as everyone prepared for battle but failed to experience it. Not that there weren’t conflicts, but they were kept to a minimum. The threat of death was never enough to stop cultivators, but the idea of complete annihilation was something different. And if it turned out that nothing happened, nobody would be concerned that they had been biding their time building themselves up.

Of course, for that the sects would need resources which were ultimately finite. Even though the continents of Aicenith and Brogora were not completely occupied, certain materials were prized above others. Even precious herbs which could be grown indefinitely were not easy to maintain. Some lesser sects lacked the resources or land or both to keep up.

Anton was a big proponent of the competition. It wasn’t simply going to be a tournament, which would heavily favor the already established and strongest sects. In fact, they were not going to be participating… except as instructors. The Luminous Ocean Society’s secret realm was the location chosen. It was designed for the sake of training, after all. It was more than just combat prowess that was going to be measured.

Growth was going to be a key factor. Given the option of different teachers people would be judged on how much they were able to progress given the closest thing they could have to a level playing field. Factors outside of combat would be measured as well. There were fields suited for growing various sorts of herbs, and materials were provided for smithing and enchanting. Formations would play a role as well.

Personally, Anton would have liked to cover more categories… but he had to admit that combat would be the most important in the near future. Preparing for that with weapons and armor as well as making use of proper herbs or medicines to aid cultivation or recovery were the most important. The ability to make a road that would last centuries would be better afterwards. If they survived.

Anton eagerly watched as hundreds of participants arrived every day, escorted in groups from various points around the continents. The intercontinental teleportation formations were being used primarily to transport people from Aicenith this year… and for the next event in five more years the plan was to go the other way.

Most participants were earlier in cultivation. There were many in Body Tempering- both those who were traditional cultivators and those who were part of the latest generation where there was a push to cultivate in any occupation. Career cultivators were most common, especially at the level of Spirit Building. A great number of Essence Collection cultivators would be present as well, even outside of the larger sects running things. Life Transformation cultivators were practically nonexistent among smaller sects, or they would stop being a smaller sect- but there were a few solo cultivators who made it. Chikere… didn’t count. Not that there was anyone who could teach her much outside of the people she already had access to. Either way, she was enough associated with the Million Sword Vault that she wasn’t allowed to participate. Not as a competitor, anyway. She would be available for selecting as a teacher. Few people would benefit from that choice, however. She was a genius sort, much like Kseniya- which meant those without the right understanding would just become more lost under her guidance. Choosing the right teacher was also a sort of test of aptitude.

The time for the selection finally came about, with random lots being drawn to determine who was allowed to choose instructors first. That was as fair as it could be, and there had been a few days for everyone to familiarize themselves with the options.

Anton was pleased when many people he recognized came to greet him. That included people from Windrip, Leo and Kit, people from Arbington, and many others. He was even more pleased when the vast majority of them chose someone else as their instructor. Most of them weren’t archers, and even a few of those were better suited for learning from someone closer to their level.

Anton had people from both Spirit Building and Essence Collection under his tutelage, as well as a single student in Body Tempering. For the first lesson, Anton selected bows for each of them to make use of, specifically targeting an achievable but difficult draw weight. There was only one difficulty. One of the Essence Collection students was too strong. “What is your name?” Anton asked.

“Nthanda,” the woman replied. Her dark skin and particular accent placed her as from Ambati.

“Is that so. You’re a practitioner of Western Steel Body?”

She nodded.

“That’s a bit of a conundrum. I don’t have a bow suitable for you. I think you might not benefit from my instructions as much. Though you are welcome to stay for a while to find out.”

She nodded again. “I will stay.”

“Very well then. Each of the rest of you has been assigned a bow and some training arrows.” Anton pulled out his own bow. “All of you are to aim downrange towards the targets. Don’t worry about distance now. We won’t be shooting just yet. I just don’t want anyone pointing at each other.” That put Anton in the direction they might shoot, but if he was going to get injured by something someone accidentally hit him with, he might as well give up his position. “Now simply draw back your bow like this, fletching just past your ear, and hold. Don’t use any energy to augment your strength, just your muscles.”

He was followed with a myriad of complaints about the draw strength of the bows assigned being too heavy. Anton took special note of those who managed to draw their bows, as well as those who failed but didn’t complain and kept trying. Nthanda was simply holding her position without speaking, though that was to be expected. She was using her own bow, and the Western Steel Body was focused on training the body above all else even past the ranks of Spirit Building.

“Pay close attention to my movements,” Anton said. “I will do it again. I assure you that you are all capable of drawing the specific bows matched to you. Let me show you. Make sure to engage all of your muscles and follow the proper motions. If you do so, you can draw the bow.”

The lone Body Tempering cultivators was huffing and puffing, his face sweating, but he continuously adjusted himself to follow Anton’s motions. Perhaps it was a bit unfair, but Anton had them continue the practice for an hour. Those who were able to draw the bow were told to fire arrows at the target, but not concern themselves with hitting or missing. Anton would return their arrows to them after they arrived at their destination, keeping everyone out of the line of fire.

Several students quit, angrily unable to accept the results. Anton shook his head. They were unable or unwilling to follow instructions, and they only complained instead of asking for specific guidance. One other simply chose to use their energy to start shooting the targets.

Anton approached the woman. “Perhaps you would do better to seek another teacher, if you will not follow my guidance.” That was the nicest way he had to say she was being kicked out… and really, it would be better for her.

“I understand,” she nodded. She apparently thought the same, perhaps believing him incompentent.

At the end of an hour people were exhausted. The Body Tempering cultivator had barely managed to fully draw the bow one, firing the arrow almost directly into the ground in front of himself after he did so. His name was… Ingram, Anton determined. At least he didn’t give up easily.

“Well then,” Anton said. “I see everyone remaining can follow instructions. You have the ability to learn.” Anton looked to Nthanda. She had at least adjusted her stance to more closely match his, even though she wasn’t restricted the same way the others were having to make use of the maximum amount of their strength to barely draw. “Next we will be shooting while making use of natural energy. Hand in your bows, please.” Nthanda just looked at him. “As for you… I might actually have something after all.” Anton hadn’t intentionally made things difficult for her, but he really wasn’t suited for teaching someone focused on strengthening their body. He pulled out the bone bow that had no string. “I will show you how to form a string. Then I want you to shoot with the minimum of energy, relying on muscle power.” It should actually work well for her, given her cultivation style.

Everyone’s strength required to pull the bow was higher when they were allowed to use natural energy. Anton demonstrated the best ways to make use of their energy to aid the process, and they spent more time just shooting- or trying to shoot. Ingram was perhaps worse at controlling his natural energy than his own body, though he eventually managed to shoot once before he collapsed. But next up was time for individual instruction, and Anton knew enough about everyone to get them started.