Elder Cultivator

Ambati was ultimately given the choice of the fate of Cyrica and the remaining members of the Ponderous Turtle Clan. It was their territory that was violated, and much of the damages fell on them. The loss of the ransom was not as significant as the other factors.

Merely being able to track the path of the second skyship as it fled was a frustration. Even with communications sent ahead, it avoided populated areas that might have the firepower to bring it down. It didn’t matter if the enemy’s objectives were not fully accomplished, damage was still done.

Ultimately the council decided the way to respond to the assault, with the same methods they might employ among themselves. Along the main docks were arranged the heads of the six cultivators, prominently displayed in a rather gruesome fashion. Preservation formations were used to ensure they remained clearly recognizable. It would get the point across if anyone should approach. As there was no easy way to get in contact, that was all they could do. Even if they had wanted to risk sending a ship to deliver the message- which would likely result in the death of everyone on the ship- there were other matters to focus on.

Attacks had begun shortly thereafter, in various locations along the coasts. For the most part skyships had not been involved, solidifying the idea they were in short supply. As soon as the first attack had happened word had been spread that the continent was at war, and any ships from the Exalted Archipelago were to be assumed as enemy combatants from that point onward. That had been quickly justified as battles and skirmishes abounded, the patrolling ships sometimes engaging enemy vessels at sea but more often simply providing intel and moving to reinforce local areas after enemies made landfall.

It was unsurprising that the Exalted Archipelago had better ships, as such would be more important for them. Yet they were not so much better that if they actually fought they were guaranteed to win. That still relied on the strength of the formations and cultivators aboard, and though Ambati would not have been able to match all of the assaults on their own, cultivators drawn from the inner continent were bolstering their numbers.

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The first attacks had all been probing, measuring resistance. Anton was certain of that. Unlike the invasion from the upper realm, there was a directionality to the attacks and no inherent commitment. Thus, casualties were lower on both sides. Truthfully most of the losses from the previous war had come in the first few weeks, and they made the losses so far seem marginal.

Not that anyone was happy about their losses. Anton wasn’t willing to accept any more, especially with the way the Exalted Archipelago was going about things. They thought they were justified to just demand whatever they wanted, or to take it when those demands were refused. That was the worst side of cultivators. And the fact that it happened so naturally once they weren’t restricted by the pact meant it was always within their intentions.

There were rotten apples among every group, but the Exalted Archipelago seemed to be overrun. So far more than a handful of distinct sects had been confirmed to be participating. This included prominent forces such as the Ponderous Turtle Clan and the Soaring Air Sect, and notable did not include the Worthy Shore Society or others that they had previously indicated were ‘neutral’ towards the continents. And neutral seemed to be the most friendly they got, though perhaps that was tempered by the understanding of the others in the area. Wouldn’t want to be thought to be conspiring with foreigners.

At the moment Anton found himself chasing down a ship headed around to the south. So far it seemed they hadn’t been detected, though that couldn’t be certain. Either way, they remained close enough to the shoreline to angle inland and group up with reinforcements. Cultivators were standing ready according to the updated positions, and though communication to arbitrary locations had to go through several steps from Anton and back, it was still nearly instantaneous.

The ship they were trailing was either being conservative with its speed or simply didn’t have the capacity to go as fast as the sea turtle powered variety. It still required making the most out of the ship they were on, with rowers working in shifts to keep their pace up. Nthanda was of great help in that regard, though her position required a specially made oar to withstand her strength. She was able to do the work of an entire bench on her own, leaving more free to rest or stand guard or balance her on the other side.

Truthfully her personal strength was not as important as her inspiring power. Nobody was willing to be outdone by a woman relying just on her body to row a great oar. Not that they actually had a choice.

Anton contributed himself, though of the Life Transformation cultivators present he was perhaps the least useful for that job. He had the longest senses and thus needed to keep track of the enemy ship… but it was good to do something with his hands. And though the muscles worked weren’t exactly the same, both rowing and archery involved back muscles to a good extent. It was technically a waste of his energy, but it seemed the most fair. Anton continued to do it even if he hadn’t slept in the last few days.

It was simply a matter of necessity. The enemy ship was continuing further and further. At this point it was fairly likely they were gunning for Droca’s coastline if not further. There were cultivators ready to fight wherever they might land, though most of the ships were concentrated on the west coast. It was already too late for another ship to cut them off, and it was unclear if it would be a wise idea. One thing the Exalted Archipelago definitely had was an abundance of Life Transformation cultivators. Brogora had grown explosively in numbers over the last couple decades, but they still had concerns about matching the enemy when having to cover a wide territory.

“They’re angling towards the shore,” Anton said to captain Othman in his cabin. “I have the feeling this will be the attack. I advise we try to gain on them if we can.”

“I’ll trust your judgment on that,” Othman said, consulting a map. “According to this the only place around that location is Ponrath Landing. Not of particular note, but a decent harbor with some natural shelter. I’ll let them know to be ready.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for any changes,” Anton said.

The Sirdar didn’t actually make any changes to her trajectory. They had been paralleling the shore from a distance, and made no move to approach closer. Optimally they wanted to get behind the enemy ship, between the open sea and the harbor. Either way, cutting towards land would cost them some distance if it was unnecessary.

Additional cultivators were assigned to row, and the pace was increased slightly. They weren’t at the maximum speed the Sirdar could achieve, but they had to sustain the pace for more than a few minutes. Closing the distance between the two ships wouldn’t be simple, even with formation enhanced sails allowing them to gain as much speed as possible even from unfavorable winds.

By the time the attack began, they were actually almost upon their foes. Either they weren’t paying attention behind them or chose to ignore them- but either way they were within a reasonable range for any cultivator to sense them. And since the attack was beginning, Anton wasn’t going to hold back.

His first few shots targeted the ship. If he could pierce the sails or even destroy the masts or rudder he could cripple them for any attempted escape. He didn’t really expect it to work, since the enemy ships had been shown to have strong defensive formations. He wasn’t surprised, except by the exact way his arrows were negated. The spirit arrows didn’t just shatter upon the formations but actually reflected back towards him with equal power- no longer under his control. They even picked out his actual trajectory instead of shooting directly back on the angle they came in from. Yet they fizzled out long before they could reach him, flying just a couple kilometers towards him. A reasonable range for most cultivators, but far from their current distance.

Nthanda was close enough to shoot as well, only having to shoot just beyond the horizon- the ten kilometer range from the crow’s nest that she quickly co-opted. Anton was the primary scout, and he didn’t need that bit of angle for his shots. With Nthanda not participating in the rowing there was a marginal drop in efficiency, but the eagerness of the cultivators to actually get to the battle more than made up for that. Nthanda’s shots were likewise stopped by the defensive formations, but they were not turned upon her. For one thing a formation physically spinning an arrow would have to more than overcome its momentum… and there was barely a spark of energy to trace back towards her. An interesting insight into the formations, to be discussed with Catarina later.

It wasn’t long before groups of cultivators- two or three Life Transformation experts as well as a plethora of Essence Collection subordinates- started making their way to the docks of Ponrath Landing, where they were met by the local cultivators.

When the fighting began, Anton felt something inside of him. It was not odd for him to feel a sense of righteous anger when cultivators attacked each other for the sake of plundering wealth, but it usually leaned more towards the side of indignation than actual fury.

Anton didn’t find himself blinded to his actions, but the way he went about the battle was not consciously directed either. Instead of targeting the strongest cultivators to throw them off balance, Anton instead summoned as many energy bows as he could handle. More than that, perhaps, but he somehow managed to fire several dozen shots at once. Sometimes several shots targeted the same enemy, some went after separate individuals. The underlying reasoning was not something that could be plumbed in depth during a combat. All that mattered was that it was effective.

And it was.

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Nthanda almost stopped shooting her own bow as a rain of arrows poured from Anton on deck below her. Every time she tried to pick a target, it felt like a moment later that target was slain. The main bow Anton held in his actual hands was made from some mysterious tree, even the string. Nthanda felt the enchantments empowering those shots, and while those indeed felled many it was but a portion of his total effectiveness. The strange bladed bow was sometimes more effective, slicing through several weaker cultivators with the bladed shots it produced. Even if it didn’t kill someone, the free-floating bows formed purely of energy added their own to the attack, finishing off injured enemies or at least incapacitating them.

When Nthanda finally decided to just pick random targets instead of anything priority, she found her time being more effective. Somehow Anton was reading the flow of the battle well enough that he was picking out pretty much every good target. It was true that the Life Transformation cultivators were not directly affected by the barrage of arrows, but they were left relatively unsupported for the local defenders or Nthanda to target. And the ship was close enough that the rest of their ranged combatants as well as the shipboard weapons were getting within range.

It seemed the enemy quickly realized their mistake, how they had underestimated the resistance they would face. Droca might not have many resources, but its cultivators were like anything else that lived in their country- prickly and hardy.

Once they had taken noticeable casualties, the enemy began to pull back to their ship. It only took them a short time to maneuver it around to face out of the harbor, but that was long enough for the Sirdar to reach them.

Captain Othman had a good head on his shoulders, but as anyone who had survived the invasion he was a bit aggressive about how he liked to deal with invaders. Instead of trying to maneuver around the enemy ship, fighting ship to ship, he simply headed straight towards them. The ships crashed together, formations straining against each other in interesting ways. The enemy vessel had the unfortunate problem of its power being divided as local were leaping onto it from the docks- and Anton’s arrows bombarded it from the sides.

The latter of those resulted in dozens of arrows reflecting right back towards Anton, but somehow he seemed to not care. While barely moving his feet he shuffled around with arrows whizzing past him- and the rest of the crew close by, before everyone gave him more space. They quickly lost momentum beyond him, dissipating into nothing. While his attacks didn’t do anything to break the formation, they certainly occupied it. Only so much energy was available at once, and it only had to collapse for a moment for the enemy ship to be boarded from both sides.

The enemy continued to struggle for a time before realizing that even their formations wouldn’t save them. There were moments of decision where several of their experts made different choices simultaneously- turning to flee, standing firm, or attempting surrender without regard for the others. There was one man who seemed to be trying to give orders, but it was already too late to salvage. He ultimately didn’t surrender, and found himself with quite a few holes- from arrows to swords and spears and whatever else.

At the end of it, Nthanda realized that Anton had broken through to the next level. That made him one of those, but she already knew that. That was why she stuck with learning from him even though he wasn’t a body temperer. He was among that strange brand of geniuses that was at the top of this most recent generation- even if he didn’t visually fit among them.