Elder Cultivator

Word from Ambati to the west was minimal, but what did come seemed to be good news. Some invaders had been repelled, and the rest were having the sects and clans unite against them. Droca was also doing well, though mainly because fewer invaders had chosen the area as a target. To the north… unfortunately, Estary seemed to be in a worse situation than Graotan. Enough that scouts reported sects just over the border being vacated or destroyed.

After some recovery and reorganizing of the forces, Graotan was doing as well as could be expected. Nobody wanted to think about how many lives had been lost, but the area of control was expanding to cover most of western Graotan. The teleportation formations were reconnected with, and fortunately they had remained secure. So far nobody had tried to come through from Aicenith which… was something.

There were some things that had been learned from enemy patterns. First, except for a few exceptions like at the Order itself and the attack on Stregate, the enemy forces had at first split up into smaller groups to spread out over the countryside. They stopped doing that primarily because everyone who had done so was dead. Right now the remaining enemy forces were mostly concentrating in eastern Graotan. That included the majority of the remnants of the group to land on the Order.

Their defeat was the current goal of the Order, and they were pressing forward with their army. The main sect was covering the southern and western borders just in case the situation there worsened and Stregate should be able to hold the north, so they simply had to approach the enemy.

Unlike a standard war, the enemy forces hadn’t marched through Graotan to reach its depths but simply came from the sky. They seemed to have some knowledge of the geography but couldn’t be said to be intimately familiar with it. Where they were forming up to fight back was defensible enough, but they were making use of the remains of a smaller sect- the Diamond Hill Sanctuary- and the battered and broken formations that remained.

“It does appear they’ve had some success in repairing them,” Catarina commented. “I got closer with the scouting party to confirm that, and it’s clear they do have some formation experts among them. As for masters… they either don’t have any, or they’re quite tricky.”

“I don’t know if we can necessarily bet on the latter,” Elder Fodor commented. “I’d expect them to have the option to bring people more versed in formations than the majority of us here.”

“Except we only deal with ‘lower energy’,” Catarina commented. “And formation masters worth their title would rather not subject themselves to a place like this. I imagine.”

Formations masters had the reputation of being eccentric. Not necessarily like Everheart, but at the very least a bit pompous. They filled an important function and were few in number, so even if they were arrogant at least a little bit of it was justified. Then there were those like Catarina who were just obsessed, though hardly easier to interact with.

“Can we siege them?” Hoyt asked. “I mean a proper siege. Like Stregate. If we can starve them out…”

“That might be possible,” Velvet commented. “But we can’t be sure what supplies they have kept- or what they brought with them.” Her skin was covered in burn scars from the first battle at the Order. It only took a single attack to put her out of commission for a time, and even now she probably wouldn’t be at full combat capability. She was hopeful about making a full recovery, but that would have to wait to be seen.

“I would prefer we minimize combat if we don’t have to,” Timothy agreed, “But I don’t know if we can afford to wait longer. Even if our borders are mostly secure now, if this group gets reinforced…” he shook his head. “I don’t think we could survive that. Even if they continue their propensity for retreating.”

“If that’s the case,” Catarina commented, “I need to get close to the formation to get a better look at it. Maybe even past the walls. If we can push in briefly and then retreat…” she shook her head. “Well, I’m not sure. If they follow us out then they lose the defensive position, but that implies us being able to break through easily. We might find that the formations are more solid than expected.”

The discussion on how to approach the attack continued for some time before they solidified a strategy with the help of those leading the militia forces.

-----

Leaves rustled in the wind as Jim sat by the edge of the river, waiting. He had a bow in his hands and a spear at his side and was ready to make use of either. The river in front of him had nearly drowned him when he was a young boy. He’d been swept away in a flood when the bridge collapsed. Now the bridge was twice as large, having been replaced shortly after and then again years later. Now Jim was old enough to have a boy of his own, and that boy was nearly a man.

The old man who had saved him felt like a hero, a powerful cultivator swooping in just when he had been needed. Yet he hadn’t really been that amazing, as cultivators went. It had taken Jim some time to learn that, but as he grew to adulthood and the practice of cultivation became more widespread it seemed the man had only been in the early Body Tempering stage. That would make him barely matched with a fit man in his prime, given the man’s age. But Anton hadn’t saved him because he was strong, but because he was there.

The man had come back to Helmfirth Rill later, and was somewhat stronger. With Jim’s current knowledge he understood Anton’s cultivation was quite fast. Here he was, early Essence Collection after a couple decades of training, something geniuses had been known to accomplish in five years. It was a shame he didn’t have to worry about things like one of the village’s kids nearly drawing, but instead there was trouble with invaders. Their little out-of-the way village wasn’t a prime target, but even they had a few special herbs they grew. These days, any village that didn’t have at least a token effort put towards empowering their cultivators was just a collection of people going nowhere.

In his time as a cultivator Jim had dealt with a few vicious beasts and some ruffians that decided to take up banditry. The latter wouldn’t have had any sort of cultivation in the world Jim was born in, but these days it was weirder not to. The first group found that even Jim’s mother wasn’t negligent in her training. Everyone was able to work so much more easily with a bit of cultivation, leaving them time to do more work… or just have time to spare, even after the time spent cultivating. A few ruffians with delusions of grandeur could be beat up by Jim’s sixty year old mother, and if they were a bit stronger they’d need a couple other grannies.

Those who were a bit smarter and stronger either didn’t bother with a place like Helmfirth Rill, or brought down the entire town’s wrath. And one time there had been a larger bandit group brewing… for all of a month before the Order shut it down. Jim didn’t know if Anton had been involved in that particular incident, but he knew the man was now an Elder at the highest level of cultivation- Life Transformation.

The invasion had hit the cultivation sects in the area pretty hard, though some held on against their foes. A larger force had congregated but there were still weaker invaders running around the countryside who thought they could have whatever they wanted. And twenty years ago, they would have been right.

Jim sensed the approaching group getting closer. They had gone to the bridge and sensed the defenders there so they were probably trying to sneak around. When the first one was about to reach the river’s edge, Jim drew an arrow and aimed right for their gut.

They sensed the surge of energy from him and dove out of the way, meaning he only grazed them. There were a handful of others as well, from late Spirit Building to one in early Essence Collection. More than a match for Jim, even if he had techniques to fight them. But his attack would let the others in the village know what was going on, and he could delay them long enough for people to be prepared.

The Essence Collection cultivator leapt out over the river, no doubt planning to just step their way across. Anyone with solid control of energy could hold themselves up on water. Jim snapped off a quick shot, using the anti-ascension techniques that were so good at disrupting these people’s energy. They deflected his shot with their and only stumbled slightly, but as their to dipped into the water a toothy mouth reached up for them. Normally Jim would have removed such pests from the river, but for the last year the town had just decided to let the beasties stay. The looming feeling of the invasion had been impetus enough to give up on some fish.

Other river creatures snapped at the trailing cultivators, and the first one was pulled halfway into the water before they killed the beast. Jim took a final shot that pierced their shoulder as the man righted himself, then held his spear at the ready. Reinforcements were on the way, and though this particular group hadn’t learned not to underestimate the people of Graotan, they would soon. Though preferably they’d learn that lesson after they were dead so they couldn’t join up with anyone else.

-----

Erin watched the movements of Paradise expectantly. The Island Tenders had thought that perhaps some of the invaders would land on Paradise, but instead as far as they could tell they landed on the continents to the east and west. They were currently heading west to Brogora, much faster than Paradise normally traveled. At the standard pace it might take them a year or two to make a crossing, but now they were leaving an enormous wake behind them as they moved. That was of course expected of anything the size of an island moving with much speed, but it was far from the normal leisurely pace.

The Island Tenders had kept the land on Paradise’s back well in shape for visiting travelers but they rarely considered the strength of the turtle itself. Not directly, anyway. As cultivators they might admire it or study it, but they rarely thought about it actually fighting. Before their establishment Paradise had joined a battle with a kraken, fighting alongside the cultivators. Now, it seemed eager to fight once more, but it was unclear what it could do.

In terms of power… Erin completely believed that if Paradise could get to the invaders it could cause massive harm to them. Even turning a portion of its massive energy would be enough to crush any cultivator Erin knew of. The problem was that, well, it was a turtle. A water creature. Even if it could move about on land, it might cause more destruction than the invaders themselves.

Or maybe Erin and the others were wrong about their current destination, and they would find themselves diving underwater after an exceptionally large fish. It was possible, but given the behavior shown so far it would be odd if this particular behavior wasn’t in response to the invaders. Though they couldn’t be felt directly anymore now that they had landed, Erin still felt an ominous presence.

Soon enough Erin spotted Greatleaf Island, which meant they were almost to Facraona’s shores. As they approached the continent the turtle slowed back to its leisurely pace. No, had it stopped entirely? At first she thought nothing was happening, then the creature’s head and neck slowly rose out of the water, creating waves that would certainly rock the ships in the nearest harbor kilometers away. Then the turtle spit, a mass of water equivalent in size to a lake flying through the air.

Erin hoped that it was aimed at invaders… and not anywhere near civilized territory. Maybe someone should go check on that. If it was helping the invaders then they could… do nothing, probably. Paradise hadn’t attacked any of them, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t. Erin believed he was on their side though. And when that ball of water landed she would be able to find out.