Elder Cultivator

It was a strange loss of tension to realize that after decades of preparation and a strange few months of intense conflict that the invasion was over. So much happened in such a short time, but had it been longer the destruction would have been incalculable. Or perhaps it would be better to say no one would have been around to calculate it.

As the formations around Yedo were torn down, there was much anticipation as to what they would find. It was well known that the invaders were not above slaughtering civilians, or anyone who provided the slightest resistance to their efforts. When the formation masters finished their initial work, they revealed details that made everyone breathe a collective sigh of relief that they had been stopped.

The formation opened, revealing the presence of the remaining civilians. Even over the course of half a day’s work they remained clustered. In hiding? Anton was one of the first to rush towards them, cautious of potential additional formations- but none came into effect. What he did find once he was able to sense inside with precision were hundreds of individuals, chained together inside a building.

Even though he didn’t specialize in formations, it was plainly obvious from the surroundings that they were atop a critical point of the larger defensive formation around the city. They were in surprisingly good shape. Fatigued, certainly. Many had injuries that had barely been treated. Most were exhausted. But given that they were part of a formation that likely fed on their natural energy and life force, they could have been much worse.

It was a relief that they had not simply battered their way through the defenses. If they had, it was unlikely that any of the hundred in front of Anton would still be living. After a few moments of caution Anton began to tear apart their chains- sufficient to hold Body Tempering cultivators, Spirit Building… and even some that held Essence Collection cultivators. Yet as Anton himself was free, he was able to make full use of his energy.

There was technically some value to be had in the chains. People did need to be restrained, and the workmanship was quite good… but Anton spared no thought for preserving them. Perhaps they might be re-used as scrap, but he had no intention to delay even a moment in freeing those he could. He started with the strongest, and while they certainly could have been in better shape they were able to help him begin freeing the others.

“Is it over?” an older man asked. “Are they… really gone?”

“They’re gone,” Anton confirmed. “And they won’t be back. Not within anyone’s lifetime, at least.” Anton wasn’t fully sure how long the cycles were, but he could fairly confidently say that. “I’m sorry we couldn’t free you sooner, but…”

“How could you?” A young woman shook her head. “We all felt her. That woman… her power was so much more than even a Life Transformation cultivator like yourself. It was unimaginable.”

Anton nodded slowly, “That was something we couldn’t have anticipated. But still,” he shook his head. “I wish we could have made them pay for what they did.”

In a way, the defense against the invasion had been hugely successful. The rest of the continent had performed better than they could have hoped. The losses for the invaders were great, and overall the various sects involved had lost significantly, unable to take the resources they had snatched from various places. Except in Estary, unfortunately. And while the damage to the sects as a whole should be significant, the most prominent individual got away unscathed. It didn’t sit right, but nothing did.

After the other locations had people freed everyone began to move towards their homes to try to meet up with loved ones. Some were successful, others were overcome by despair as they found their loved ones dead. Even if a family miraculously survived, homes and shops were destroyed, valuables looted. The destruction was not so great as it was suspected might have been intended, as they were forced away slightly earlier, but there was so much. Nobody knew where to start.

Without putting any thought into it, Anton began clearing out rubble along roadways. He couldn’t pick through the rubble of a building and determine what people would want to salvage, but he could make paths walkable for people to handle themselves. When he came upon people with a particular difficulty, he would lend his aid- moving beams and helping to search for trinkets of emotional significance left behind.

These were found more easily with energy senses, one benefit of nearly everyone having taken up cultivation. It was unfortunate that even with their power not everyone had been able to defend themselves… but they at least had a chance. That was all that Anton could hope for.

And while the destruction was great, on a whole Yedo still stood. Perhaps in a short time trade would once again begin flowing through the city and throughout Estary. All of the damage and destruction would take great amounts of labor to recover… but even with the lives lost each individual was capable of more than the former generation. There were enough to work the fields, to repair buildings, to cover the necessities. And compared to being alive, little else mattered. Not immediately, anyway.

-----

Soon enough everyone returned to the places they were accustomed. The Order moved back to Graotan to help there, while the remaining cultivators of Estary flocked to the cities to lend their aid. Nobody thought much about it. Thought there were a few sects or organizations that strictly focused on taking care of themselves, a good majority provided their efforts wherever they could. Even in the devastation there was a sense of unity Anton hoped would never fade away.

As for the total casualties, it might never be known precisely. However, the estimates ranged between a third and a half, depending on location. Sometimes more- individual towns and villages were wiped out, but others held strong and kept casualties to simply ten or twenty percent. Yet even those numbers would have been considered catastrophic losses in normal circumstances.

Anton looked at what he had acquired during the conflict. Having been involved in several major battles, his share of the loot was not insignificant. Yet as he looked at armors of miraculous make and weapons that would make the best cultivators in the world drool, he could only feel disgusted. What value did they hold in their current time? Weapons and armor and rare combat techniques wouldn’t feed people or shelter them.

He did have a small pile of cultivation resources and medicines, but he had no intent to hold onto those. Marginally improving his own cultivation was of little interest to him, and people had need of them. Especially those who had survived with grievous injuries. There were many people with lost limbs or deep scars that would making living a normal life nearly intolerable. Restoring limbs was not an easy task, so Anton couldn’t provide much help in that area, but helping people recover from other injuries was still possible. And he had a few medicines that he was pretty sure could help someone recover a lost limb. That wasn’t an impossibility in the cultivation world, after all, though usually it took years or decades of focus along with resources and a little luck.

That was what the world needed right now. To heal from its injuries. And though things were at the lowest point that they might have ever been… if all of the most powerful cultivators devoted themselves to helping the recovery efforts, the scars to the world might begin to recover in just a generation or two. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, but Anton was going to do it… and of course he would use his influence to make everyone else he knew contribute as well. Not that anyone needed much persuading.

-----

“What’s this?” Anton asked, holding up a metal tube.

“A forearm,” Grant said. “Or it will be.”

Anton looked around the smith’s workspace, seeing nothing in the way of weapons but instead a vast quantity of tools… as well as hands and feet. Crafted, of course. “Prosthetics, is it? That can certainly help.”

“They’re not just prosthetics. They’re replacements,” Grant commented. “In theory. Right now most are just solid material, but this,” Grant held up something akin to a gauntlet with moving joints, “This can function much like a normal hand would. Only for cultivators, of course. But basic functionality will be enough, and having a medium to focus your energy on is far superior to freely controlling energy. Even someone in early Body Tempering should be able to handle it if I make it light enough.”

“They won’t be able to afford it though,” Anton pointed out.

“So what? There are nearly unlimited shattered blades scattered about the continent, materials that can be used for anything. I don’t need to do much more than keep a roof over my head and buy fuel.”

“That’s a good man,” Anton grinned. “If you find anyone who’s trying to profit from this situation, make sure to bop them over the head for me and tell them that the goodwill of the people will be worth more in the future. Well, profit excessively. People have to be allowed to make a way for themselves.” Anton sighed, “All I’m good for is sowing fields, and frankly I can only handle so many per day before we run out of seeds.”

Of course, Anton didn’t just farm. He would lend his strength to anything that needed it, but knowing he couldn’t always be around his preferred method was to teach people to grow their own strength. That was his way of cultivation, and it was even more necessary now than it had been before. It was unfortunate that the quality of natural energy that had been building up over the years had now been destabilized, but overall it was still more than when he began cultivating, making it simple enough for people to get started. And he had decades of experience to help along those who didn’t intuitively grasp what they needed to do.

It was unfortunate that improving and building up wealth would lead people to want to take it, but Anton didn’t believe that living in poverty to protect oneself from loss was a better way of life. Everyone should at least have the opportunity to thrive however they saw fit, if it didn’t harm others. And he still firmly believed that working together for happiness would result in greater benefits to each individual than striving alone. It was just a long, difficult road with many bumps along the way.

-----

Back in Ofrurg, which was more conveniently located for gathering people from around the continent, a combination of fire and ice surrounded a large chamber where elders from all over were meeting- including from Aicenith. The Frostmirror Sect had intended to depart from their occupation of the Glorious Flame Palace, and still declared that intent… but the only thing they had to look forward to back at their previous location was devastation.

“We need to prepare the groundwork for next time,” Elder Sarka declared.

Elder Lestari from Marvelous Rabbit Mountain frowned. “It seems rather early for that, with unknown centuries before the next one.”

“Of course it is impossible to do anything specific,” Elder Adelina commented, “But the most basic form of preparation is the one they never wanted us to have. In the previous iteration, much was done so that the memory of the invasion would not persist. That cannot be allowed. We must remember, and now is the time. It seems unfathomable that we would forget something of this magnitude, but humanity is fickle. We might remember for one generation, or two. Perhaps a century. Those from the latest generation who grow up to become Life Transformation experts might live for several centuries… but that could be simply half the time until the next ‘cycle’. No, we must take active steps to ensure that the world cannot forget.”

Elder Lestari nodded, “I understand. And I think… the whole world has benefited from the unity we have now. Though it is unlikely we will remain in an age of peace forever, this is perhaps the best opportunity to at least attempt to prolong it. And some sort of celebration is in order. If the whole world could unite behind a single event, a festival… it might last longer.”

“That is correct,” Elder Vasu of the Million Sword Vault agreed. “I do believe it would be best for all, a time of memory and unity. Though I unfortunately have to point out that not the whole world stood together.”

A frown. “Right. The Exalted Archipelago. But though they are not our friends… some of them did share techniques and knowledge that ultimately helped lead to our successes.”

“And remembering those who aided us, even indirectly, is a wise thing to do. Just don’t forget those who look at us like hungry wolves, restraining themselves only because of some pact we are not privy to.”

“You think they will break the pact?” Kseniya asked.

“I think we need to be ready for anything,” Vasu shrugged. “We have learned more about the worlds beyond our own, but I still feel like we know nothing. None of those who ascended from this world returned… with the exception of a few siding with the invaders. That must be taken into account. Our enemies might outnumber our friends.”

Though the subjects around it were rather dismal, the talk eventually returned to celebrations. Nobody could quite agree what sort of celebrations would be appropriate. Every region had their own traditions to start with, after all. In the end, it was agreed that perhaps it was the most appropriate to do whatever felt natural, as long as everyone remembered why they were celebrating. They were celebrating resistance. Survival. Unity. And they would remember what had happened, for the sake of the generations after them.