Playboy Cultivator in the Apocalypse

—August 12th, 2032 | Immortal Skye Gates—

Outside the southside gates of Immortal Skye, eight cultivators wearing toga took flight. Four went south to Meridian City; the other half moved north. It was a clear day, allowing the group to see the ocean as they flew in unison toward the city.

Meridian City was the capital of Malta, a nationalist superpower that emerged following an international war and the subsequent economic collapse of the European Union. The rising government, the Republic of Valoria, built the mega city to connect old London to Southhampton, the shipping port city to the south.

Now it was a concrete jungle of towering skyscrapers and gothic architecture that showcased the evolution of Europe from a historical empire into a modern superpower that rivaled the United States and China as a superpower.

However, the cultivators didn't see the might of Earthian civilization as they flew toward the city. To them, they bore witness to the ruins of an advanced civilization that suffered a sudden collapse and a testament to the importance of individual strength.

Halfway there, the four split east and west, leaving a pixie and a maroon-haired teen flying alone to the west.

"Mars, don't even consider doing that," Roxy snapped after he presented an alternative strategy for the operation.

"Relax, lady," Mars chuckled. "I gotta plan, you know?"

"No you-don't-have-a-fucking-plan," she grinned, speaking fast between her teeth. "You have a life, and you need to protect that. That's why we're doing things my way."

"Ah, come on, Rox," he moaned. "You got me completely freed from my contract, so it's not like I'm gonna die. This way, I can protect—"

"No," Roxy replied, her face devoid of humor. "Emperor Lexicon sent us to infiltrate and report; that's all we will do. Don't try to play the hero; you'll just get everyone killed."

"But that's—AHhhhHhh!" Mars tried to argue, but the pixie hit him with gravity sending him crashing toward the earth to regain his barrings. He flew back up with his cheeks puffed out, "Not cool, lady. It'd bad enough you treat me like a kid and won't trust my social skills."


"Your social skills are great," Roxy replied, donning a grave expression. "But you're weak under your father's influence. That man will say one word and—"

"Shut up, Roxy," Mars ordered, his voice low-toned and icy. "I'm going to get stronger and destroy that man."

"You will get stronger and destroy him," Roxy replied, not deterred by his bone-chilling change. "That's why you're staying here and training instead of playing hero. Your father is a master manipulator; if he weren't, you wouldn't be training to destroy him."

The maroon-haired teen fell silent, icy, devoid of humor or life for an hour, flying above the skies. However, after an hour, he found himself glancing at Roxy to see if she was remorseful; thirty minutes later, he glanced to see if she was angry; two hours in, he saw if she was ready for an apology.

"FINE!" Mars yelled, under intensive pressure. "We'll do things your way."
"Wonderful!" Roxy beamed, clapping her hands. "Now, let's have some lunch to remind us why staying here is the best," she announced, landing on a skyscraper roof and reaching into her spatial ring.

"What is this?" he asked, inspecting red meat on a plate over seasoned rice. "It looks like that bird we ate if they soaked it in blood."

"It's called 'barbecue chicken,'" she giggled. "Though it's made from 'white-tailed eagle,' apparently."

"Then why don't they call it barbecue condor?" he furrowed his brows.

"I guess it was against the law to eat them before," Roxy smirked. "Let's just try it."

Mars hesitantly picked up the bone and opened his mouth, going in for a nibble. Obtaining daring, he took a small bite. "What is this witchcraft…." he whispered to himself, his pupils shrinking to the size of pins. "Roxy, I'll share my next technique with you if—"

"No," she replied aggressively, yanking her back as if to scream 'it's mine!'

They both burst into laughter, creating a nice atmosphere to start their lunch.

═─┈─═

—August 12th, 2032 | Immortal Skye Amphitheater—

Immortal Skye Amphitheater teamed with life, nearly breathing as the Immortals assembled around the granite and wooden bleachers built that week. Incorporating the special forces soldiers, trades workers, Meridian City police, and cultivators swelled their ranks from the original 2,256 to 3,813, even accounting for the 163 casualties from the rapture's onset.

There was a major announcement that day, and most were nervous. After all, they knew the Killian Empire would eventually return to take revenge, and the proof was in the new cultivators.

Inside the back room, a brunette with a wavy bob cut, slowly growing to her shoulders, was particularly worried. "Why did you give Veronica an enchantment technique for perfect crowd control when it's my job to do this…?" Kylie pouted.

"I gave Veronica a lethal weapon that spurns mistrust," Kaze explained. "I gave you a dress that you look spellbinding in. Appearance and charm of this caliber could destabilize a spurn an uprising."

"That's not…" Kylie began but fell silent, blushing furiously after seeing his devilish smile and elevator eyes. She wore an off-white sheath dress with sleeves that hugged her neck like a sweater and curved down her body like a cocktail dress, accentuating her curves perfectly.

The dress perfectly balanced modesty and elegance, exuding sophistication and grace—and not her normal style. However, she enjoyed the attention.

"What if I mess up?" she whispered, losing steam and lightly pounding his chest with her fists.

"What happened to your fiery spirit you had when you began?" Kaze chuckled, lifting her chin to gaze at her charmingly.

"That was before I met you," Kylie replied, averting her gaze. "Now, I understand our vast disparity and know nothing I do will match your skill. It also used to be a job; now, I'm worried about letting you down."

"Kylie," he said, snapping her out of her haze. "You have millennia to develop skills at my side. Today is the first step down that road, and I'm here to step in at any time. So show me what you have without restraints; I'm here to back you up."

The ex-cheerleader looked into his eyes with trembling eyes, feeling passion welling within her. She wrapped her hands around and kissed him before looking at her watch. "It's time to go."

"I look forward to it," Kaze winked, creating a spatial rift in the wall. "I think this entrance is far more befitting for my partner."

Kylie smiled brightly before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath, and walking through the spatial rift. Muted sunlight hit her eyes as she exited onto the large play stage, and the sound of thousands of Immortals pierced her eardrums.

"Wait, is that Director Shultz?"

"Yeah, when did she get there?"

"Oh, she walked through a spatial rift!"

"That's right; she's the emperor's girl!"

"You look beautiful, Lady Shultz!"

A chaotic and confused chorus of cries and compliments crashed onto the cheerleader, captivating her and calming her mind.

"Hello, Immortals," Kylie greeted, flashing everyone a charming smile. "That title feels good now, doesn't it?"

The crowd answered her call with clamorous cheering.

"A couple of months ago, we were just children who wanted to cultivate," Kylie chuckled. "Then we met Kaze Lexicon…."

After a cheeky smile, the crowd cracked, and a cataclysm of chuckles, chortles, and cackles sounded, creating an electric atmosphere.

"Then we became a country," the brunette smirked, pausing to spur thunderous applause, "vanquished the sick… killed a cultivation lord… challenged a superpower… and won."

Battle cries crackled through the soundwaves, charged with excitement and celebration.

"A week ago, cultivators came to kill ants but chose to convert instead," she smirked. "That's how you know we're special."

Immortal Skye erupted in a clamor, composing a choir of conviviality.

"Today, I bring you our latest victory," Kylie smiled enigmatically. "Ice General Skye has conquered Lainwright Military Base, converted capable soldiers, and captured the criminal who attacked our country!"

Battle cries clashed with the soundwaves, seemingly challenging the heavens. Kylie designed her opening to incite confidence in the citizens, building their courage to meet the shocking communique that could spark a serious crisis. She hoped it would be enough.