Elder Cultivator

The final results of the conflict with Bala Sykora of the Ivory Maw was currently inconclusive. Anton supposed that would somewhat depend on whether they had managed to save one person or not. Alaia might still be alive, or perhaps Bala had a method to catch her between systems. It was even possible that she would be killed after arriving, but Anton didn’t mind that as long as the fact that the trifold alliance would keep their end of the deal was spread first. Fighting to keep them alive was more than either had bargained for, so Zarina’s death was unfortunate but not something he actually felt bad about in any way. Especially since he tried to help.

As for the battle itself, with Bala Sykora and her mountain of bone… Anton wasn’t sure if he could consider it a win or a loss. The Great Queen was of the opinion that she would have been able to slay the woman had she stayed, and perhaps she was right- but it was also possible the Great Queen had been ignored and Bala left to chase after Alaia. Either way, it was the first battle in a long time where Anton felt properly outclassed. Being closer to the sun would have merely narrowed the gap, and Anton couldn’t guarantee that Bala had been at the peak of her potential power. The mountain of bone might have been only a part of what she was bound to. Details of that level were information Alaia and Zarina simply hadn’t had access to.

The loss of Ruteran pilots was unfortunate, though in practical terms they were more easily replaceable than Elder Intan. Beyond the deaths, however, there were other things to consider. Injuries and the like, not all of which would heal easily.

-----

Laying in a hospital bed, Ty Quigley had nearly as many wrinkles as Anton himself. Alright, that was an exaggeration- but he didn’t look good. There was a significant difference between forceful life draining and natural age, and the former’s signs were anything but pleasant. Anton made sure to visit Rutera’s ace fighter pilot in person. “How are you feeling?” Anton asked.

The man was conscious, at least, if not particularly energetic looking. He just sat there for a few minutes before finally answering. “Angry.”

That was completely understandable, though not what Anton would have supposed was the primary issue. “You’ll have to work hard on your recovery, then, if you wish to seek revenge.”

“Yeah,” the man said, lacking much of his usual enthusiasm. “Elder Intan… he didn’t make it, did he?”

“I’m surprised you had the situational awareness to notice that, with everything else going on.” Anton nodded, “You are correct. He perished.” Anton held his hand on his storage bag for a moment, before opening it and coaxing something into his hand with his energy. “He would have wanted you to have this.”

Anton presented Ty Quigley with a simple curved blade, relatively lacking in adornment- a surprise, given its origins somewhere in the upper realms. This was one of the weapons retrieved in the previous invasion by the Million Sword Vault. Perhaps it should be returned to them, but if they argued about that Anton would set them straight.

Ty’s eyes were unfocused on the ceiling, but as Anton’s hand stretched towards him they snapped down. His arm reached out, grasping the hilt. Anton let go, while Ty’s knuckled whitened from his tight grip. Anton could feel natural energy wildly swirling inside the man. He knew that feeling. Either the young man would do something foolish in the near future and get himself killed… or this would be an opportunity for significant advancement. And attempting to stop him from anything foolish would also preclude the latter, so Anton would just leave him with a few more words. “I’m sure the Million Sword Vault would be glad to have you visit. You have the time, as you have a significant amount of leave to recover from your injuries.” As for the aging problem, Anton wasn’t sure if he could recover from that. Anton’s limited experience with spectral energy generally involved people dying, so the issue of recovery hadn’t come up.

Ty didn’t say anything more, but Anton left him, still clutching the sword.

-----

Three wounds that could have been merely glancing blows but had a lingering impact were Anton’s focus of inspection. There wasn’t a clear delineation to the casual observer- old was old, and slightly more or less wrinkles and spots was hardly something most would notice. The difference was certainly less vast than with Ty, though that could have several reasons. The damage didn’t cover all of Anton’s body, and he had no youth.

He reflected on the battle, repeating the feeling of spectral energy in his mind. He only had limited experience with it. First was what he drew upon himself with Fleeting Youth. Then there had been the Whispering Watchers and the Deathly Heart Technique, which was at least similar. The way that Bala used her power was akin to a forbidden technique, by every metric. Dangerous to the user, to others, to those in power, certainly immoral. Anton had no illusions that someone could acquire so many bones except by seeking out things and people to kill- and though Anton had the lives of hundreds upon his hands, he didn’t desecrate their bodies or seek out conflict with humans just for the sake of it.

Anton was certain he didn’t want to try to make use of spectral energy in the same manner as Bala Sykora, but understanding it would help him protect himself in future conflicts, and to better understand an oft overlooked aspect of his abilities.

The areas where the spectral energy had touched him were still alive, though Anton was quite aware they could have become necrotic tissue with any more exposure. The lingering traces of energy were minimal, even just after the battle, but the damage… well, Anton was working on one patch to begin with- his shoulder. His side and thigh could wait, the shoulder was the most important.

His natural energy circulated through the area, soothing the bone, muscle tissue, and skin. A simple injury would have shown signs of recovery already, and even the normal effects of aging would have some reaction. If Anton wished he could at least erase the cosmetic effects of his age, but that was impractical vanity. He cared more about the function of his body, and the simple circulation of natural energy was insufficient at the moment.

His mind went to the radial shockwave of energy, the first of which had torn through one of the enemy ships, and the second the other. It hadn’t just killed the people around it, but drawn something out of it. That was not a way that Anton used his spectral energy- he just used it to tear through them, avoiding their defenses and leaving behind deadly wounds as it struck their vitals. But there was no saying that he couldn’t. And if it could take away, it could do the opposite.

In theory. Anton slowly drew upon spectral energy. Unlike his natural energy, it did not live inside of him in his dantian, and he never properly circulated it- the same was true of the ascension energy likewise provided by Fleeting Youth. Yet Anton was aware that both could become the basis of someone’s energy- though it was a new revelation with regards to spectral energy.

He was cautious with his approach, knowing that acting carelessly could cause more damage instead. Gingerly, he pulled the spiritual energy through his shoulder, trying to let it feed into himself and restore the damage. At his level of cultivation, he wasn’t just blindly groping around- the insights he had from many sources told him this should be possible, it was simply a question of whether or not he had enough talent and understanding, or how long it might take him.

It was a strange feeling, unusual energy passing through him. It was something he generally tried to avoid, precisely because he used it for purposes of battle. Yet in the right hands, a surgeon’s blade was a tool of healing and not harming. Over his time Anton had become versed in human anatomy and healing to a sufficient degree to at least monitor his own internal state to a high level. He paid careful attention for changes, and where he found none he tried a different tactic, while doing his best not to make anything worse.

After a day of effort, he felt a slight positive uptick in his health. That was good, because Anton was aware some wounds cultivators could sustain were irreparable- or at least would take decades to recover like the internal damage Everheart had, and what he’d caused to Alaia to properly restrain her.

Any slight amount of recovery after just a day of effort meant Anton could fix this as he became more proficient, though he didn’t want to be too slow. It was best to work with fresh wounds and start the process early. Thus, he focused on that for a few weeks before moving on to external applications of spectral energy.

-----

A nearly invisible bolt of spectral energy flew through the sky. It was not subtle in any way, but it was different enough from natural energy and its various different variations that it could give someone pause. Either way, whether they knew about it or not, the ripples of power flowing off of the arrow were something of interest to Anton. Normally, he would consider such a thing wasted energy- but the ripples weren’t a loss of the spectral energy he was shooting, just their effect on the world.

In short, for the same effort he could shoot his typical arrow of energy but cause damage in a wider area as the ripples of energy spread out from his shot. Anton made certain that he could control them as he wished- he experimented with targets and once he had the hang of it living creatures, restraining or releasing the ripples as he pleased. It took a bit to get a hang of, especially if he wanted to swap quickly, but it was fully under his control. Seeing vast amounts of spectral energy in action had been quite beneficial.

More than that, a view of something that reminded him of death itself improved his insights into that aspect of Fleeting Youth. His discussions with Prospero Vandale about death had been somewhat enlightening, but hearing something described and just seeing death- in an uncomfortably pure form, and not merely from violence- had added a new layer to his understanding. Anton was quite pleased.

He turned behind him, where the Great Queen was waiting. “Are you done?”

“I am,” he nodded.

“Good. I don’t like… that,” she gestured, clearly referring to spectral energy. “It’s nearly inedible.”

Anton laughed, “Considering that it directly kills most everyone, that’s not particularly strange. Don’t worry, I won’t spread news of a potential weakness of yours.” The widespread effect had merely fatigued the great queen, and chomping her way through bones full of spectral energy hadn’t helped, but it clearly had some effect on her. If she’d been directly targeted with the bolts, she might have sustained injuries even from a source that was purely energy.

That was actually comforting to Anton. Though his friendly relationship with the Great Queen meant it only benefited him if she was stronger, he couldn’t guarantee that all void ants everywhere would remain friendly to humans. In fact, it would be stranger if they never came into larger scale conflict in some manner. Knowing he had an option to fight them was appealing. An option besides just having Nthanda squish them between her fingers, that was.

“Do you think you really could have killed her?”

“If the woman had a body, I could have devoured it. If she did not, I would have torn apart the energy that gave her the core of her power,” the Great Queen said confidently.

Anton looked at the ant’s splinted limbs. Insects didn’t recover from broken appendages easily, but some experience with the matter had the void ants develop some techniques for placing their body in a state to recover. For those with sufficient power, their bodies wanted to return to a healthy state, so even if it shouldn’t naturally recover consuming sufficient amounts of food- physical, energy, or both- meant they would generally recover. At least if there was nothing missing. If the Great Queen had lost limbs instead of just getting some mangled, the results were quite likely to be different- and the human’s methods that sometimes allowed for recovery of lost limbs were unlikely to be of much use for those with such different anatomies.

Anton sighed slightly. “I’m not sure if I will be more effective if we were to fight again. Not offensively, anyway. I imagine anyone from the Ivory Maw has experience fighting against spectral energy.”

“Take your advances where you may. There are still ninety-five or so others who are likely to find your improvements to their significant detriment,” the Great Queen encouraged him.

Of course, ninety-five probably wasn’t any more accurate than just saying one hundred. There was some potential for various sects or clans in the Sylanis Cluster to have Worldbinding cultivators that were hidden, not announced to the world for tactical reasons. On the other hand, there might also be some that had died and were kept on the official rosters for similar reasons. Though Anton wasn’t going to bet on there being too many of those. He also wasn’t planning to work his way through the enemy’s Worldbinding cultivators one at a time until they were all gone. Not if he didn't have to. Hopefully, they could force some kind of peace.