Elder Cultivator

After the first handful of skyships from the Exalted Archipelago got shot down, they lost any willingness to mobilize them. Despite what improvements the Soaring Air Sect and others had made since their first assault on the continent, they had not worked as closely with Rutera to learn their secrets. More importantly, the ships they did construct had to be made in secret so their plans wouldn’t be obvious, limiting their number and restricting quality to some extent. The continents, especially with Rutera’s fleets, maintained superiority over the sky- that left only the cultivators who could fly, which were vaguely matched on either side.

Fairly quickly the pressure had shifted to the islands, unable to secretly maneuver fleets of any size sufficient to damage the mainlands. Nor were they interested in assaulting fortified locations if the continental forces could properly gather their defenses to resist them. Thus, they maintained their own defensive posture, centered around the Soaring Air Sect.

The Soaring Air Sect’s island was unnatural in shape, standing tall out of the oceans around it. A nearly unbroken pillar of rock- with one exception. A reminder of the previous war, and a symbol of the Soaring Air Sect’s shame. A hole shot through by Anton, near the waterline. They hadn’t forgotten that, nor had they failed to learn their lesson about extending their defensive formations to cover everything, deep into the water.

Sect Head Rodolph trudged across the bridges separating their highest towers, towards what was supposed to be his offices. Those offices had been snatched away by the Augmentation cultivators. As if they were better than him, somehow. While he had to admit their strength was somewhat superior, that was only while it lasted. With the few conflicts they had been in already, they were showing signs of wear.

“You’re late,” Fajra said as he entered.

He wasn’t, of course. They’d only just informed him that they required a meeting. “Apologies, lady Fajra,” he bowed his head and kept his feelings bottled up. “What do you require?”

Juta was present as well, her arm bandaged. There seemed to be more to it than it previously had, but Rodolph didn’t let his eyes linger. The woman placed her whole arm on the table, leaning forward. “We need commitment. You ‘Exalted’ fellows aren’t willing to throw yourselves into the fight.”

Of course not. That was what they’d tried to work with the Trigold Cluster for. With proper forewarning, they should have brought enough forces to win handily. That would have left the world for expansion, and previous humiliations would have been overcome.

“We were there for the initial assaults,” Rodolph said carefully, “And we have made our resources and experts available to you.” They simply hadn’t taken things seriously enough. The information provided to the upper realms had not been exaggerated, but perhaps they thought it had been. Though Rodolph himself could admit he’d underestimated the continued growth of the continental Assimilation cultivators.

“That’s not good enough,” Fajra returned the focus to her. Her features appeared more beautiful than humanly possible, but the results were offset by the fact that Rodolph knew she maintained that image with her abilities- and her personality certainly didn’t help him feel anything but uncomfortable. “We need all of your… Assimilation cultivators to move out together instead of huddling on your little islands. We need a proper victory to begin the march of progress.”

“Going on the offensive loses us one of the great advantages of Assimilation…”

“That is a failing of your own, is it not?” Fajra raised an eyebrow in a manner that was more insulting than Rodolph knew was possible. “I hear the leader of the enemy forces roams as he pleases. Even to other systems.”

“He somehow bound himself to stars. That is not… something others can achieve.”

“Then you will all have to do what you can. We’re moving out tomorrow.”

“Understood.” Rodolph waited for some signs he was dismissed, then left.

He pursed his lips. He didn’t like the way things were going at all. Not one bit. Though personally he could maintain his power wherever the winds blew, many of the others were more limited. Fajra seemed to think he was bound to the island of the Soaring Air Sect, which had suited him just fine.

He wondered if it was supposed to be his job to inform the others. Being chosen as the ‘host’ of the Trigold Cluster had been a dubious honor at best. But he couldn’t afford not to go along with them- and neither could the others. Not since they’d come this far.

-----

“It has to be a trap of some kind,” Anton said. “They all appear to be moving together. Not even attempting to take back any islands… though admittedly only our allied sects are of value there. But they’re leaving themselves open to flanking- ignoring our space fleets.”

“Sometimes,” Everheart shrugged, “People just make bad moves.”

Present along with them was Merve. She no longer clung to Anton as her only source of balance, but it was still useful for her to remain nearby, in case a battle came about. “Shouldn’t the two of you be holding opposite opinions? Eulogius is usually the paranoid one.”

“It’s not paranoia when everyone is out to get you,” Everheart replied. “When you have enemies plotting for your downfall through any available trick. Unfortunately for them, we were prepared for their tricks a century ago. And in terms of strength… they made a poor bargain, coming here.”

“They should have some plan, though,” Anton frowned. “They’re just heading towards Brogora. Do they expect us to teleport reinforcements from Aicenith? They could swap locations, leaving us no choice but to have drained cultivators teleport back…”

“They’re just heading for the easy hole in the formation,” Everheart shrugged.

“... hole? I thought you had been repairing the formations.”

He shrugged. “Sure. But someone left a hole at the northwest corner of Facraona. Maybe some spies could have found that out, in which case an invading army would gladly focus there.”

“... So when they arrive you’ll suddenly return the formations to full functionality, trapping them inside?”

“Oh!” Everheart nodded, “We could have done that, yeah. I’m getting bored of waiting around though, so I kind of just left it… vacant. It’s still on the continent though, within prime crushing distance for more than a few local Assimilation cultivators.”

Everheart intentionally put a hole in their defenses. That was… extremely believable, actually. Why not fake it and have something for backup, though? That Anton couldn’t help but wonder. Maybe he did, or maybe he thought that something hidden could be seen through. Or he was just so confident.

“Paradise will be cold,” Anton said for lack of other comments.

“He does pretty well up north with the help of those nice people living on his back,” Everheart shrugged. “Also he could swim through the arctic seas and be fine.”

Anton supposed that was true. He just didn’t prefer to be in those waters when he didn’t have to. “I don’t suppose we can change anything about the situation now. Though I would have preferred a warning.”

“Well, you know what they say. Not even the dead can keep a secret.”

“I… don’t think that’s a thing people say,” Anton countered.

“They should.”

-----

Even without defensive fortifications or any particular terrain advantages, being able to anticipate a battle location was excellent. Brogora gathered their Assimilation cultivators while Anton himself watched the enemy fleet. The combatants most effective on land would be positioned there, while those better at naval combat would be harassing the incoming fleets and preventing the enemy from landing everyone at once. Even if ships were destroyed the cultivators would swim- or run atop the water or fly- to shore, but it would be less organized and some could be killed along the way.

As long as they didn’t commit their fleets too early they could keep them safe. And their aerial forces would be able to engage at any point. Even if the enemy fleet suddenly shifted their trajectory, with their forces mobilized their fleets would have enough time to pick up their forces on land. Cultivators could bypass many of the restrictions others might have to concern themselves with.

Of course, even with all of that the continental forces could expect many casualties. If they could commit every last warrior from both continents and the archipelago then their forces would be overwhelmingly more powerful, but they simply couldn’t abandon everything. Even now the allied forces from the Archipelago were probing their former companion’s islands for clues.

Not willing to underestimate the enemy, Anton didn’t bother politely waiting for them to be within a ‘reasonable’ distance. Instead, he began his assault once he was within range of both them and his allies, a distance he was confident in retreating before the two Augmentation cultivators could catch him, should they immediately give chase. Though if they actually came for him he might have different plans. The Great Queen certainly had some ideas about what she would do to Fajra.

Instead, when his first arrows arrived, they took on a full defensive stance. They were prepared for that at least, augmenting the defenses of Anton’s targets with help from their surroundings. That meant Anton caused little damage, but he had nearly an hour to pester them. His minor victories were sinking one ship and killing some of those on board, and forcing Juta to block several attacks for the flagship. That was what they knew about, anyway. The whole time he was relaying information about how they were arranged, informations that the fleets and ranged attackers would use to pick targets once the battle actually started.

And after an hour of shooting, Anton was still nearly full on energy. As for his arm getting tired? It would take more than that. Thousands of arrows per day was his minimum. Of course, there were some differences when he was going full out in combat… and as this was clearly going to be a pivotal battle he wasn’t planning to conserve himself.

The true start of the battle came with an exchange from both sides. First it was Nthanda from land, then a return of fire from the enemy’s skyships, including a particularly impressive specimen he had only sensed moored at the Soaring Air Sect. They had their own archers, as well as other forms of ranged attacks. The Sect Head in particular had a metal ring, bladed on the outer edge. That was thrown, only to return to his hand after.

Perhaps someone should try to catch it mid flight. That wasn’t Anton’s job, though.

The sea fleets came in from the west before the enemy made landfall, with the flying ships having circled around behind. They focused on the Soaring Air Sect in the skies, as those were both the easiest targets for them and the ones that it would be most effective to remove. Especially with Juta and Fajra on board.

The latter of course released her aura across the battlefield. Having experienced it before, some were more resistant- and others prepared to counteract it for their brethren. Merve fulfilled that role for some of those on land. Though she would have preferred to fly with the Ruterans, she would be too vulnerable at her current strength.

Without waiting for things to become desperate, Anton made a decision. It had been a very long time since he attempted to make use of Candle Wax, and for good reason. Unlike Fleeting Youth which merely took advantage of his age and pushed him towards a place where he could not ascend or expect to reincarnate, Candle Wax burned away his lifespan.

He was not sure how much of that he had left, but he could not think of a more important time to use it than now, when they could expel all of the invaders to their world- those who had remained in occupation for centuries, and those who came and went like raiders. Every individual from Ceretos he could save was another who could potentially replace him. Fire burned within and without, but Anton only smiled.