Elder Cultivator

From the central chamber, Anton was able to spread out his senses through one corridor at a time without having to concern himself with strange angles. The thing that had initially stopped him still held- many corridors were blocked to various extents, requiring winding his energy around instead of simply projecting it in a straight line. The more he did so, the more the area felt constructed and yet… natural. He just wasn’t sure how things could be both.

The lower tunnels were less numerous than those leading at an angle up towards the surface- transitioning to vertical shafts that mostly did not reach the surface. These rectangular corridors seemed actually intended for use, though collapsed passageways, stalactites, and stalagmites made traversal inconvenient.

At this point, Anton had not sensed any danger… or much else, really. Empty rooms of little interest lined the corridors, but they eventually led Anton to a conclusion that felt rather silly to have taken so long.

“The corridors here should have been smooth at some point. It’s simply enough time has passed for this,” Anton waved to a stalactite hanging about a third of the way down to the ground. “To form. At least some hundreds of years, but I would bet on more than a thousand. The walls have become uneven from other changes that caves normally endure.”

Hoyt looked around and nodded. “I see. It is odd, though. One would have expected it to completely collapse into nothing or… be in better shape. This has to have been done by ancient cultivators, right? What about their preservations? Formations?”

“That…” Anton frowned, “Could have happened the same. Who’s to say some of these marks were once formation runes? Now that I think of it… they could be. I feel nothing, however.”

“The flow of energy seems perfectly normal,” Velvet agreed.

None of the others following them had anything different to say, so they simply continued their exploration. After finding dead ends in several directions, they went deeper. “I sense something,” Anton said. “Something… powerful. Perhaps a formation, or something enchanted.”

There was little to do but continue deeper, making their way down proper stairs. They weren’t particularly wide, indicating not many people used them… and that there was little interest in ornamentation. There were also more round tunnels that had been heading down, but the stairs seemed to be the proper method.

Eventually they found themselves at another ring at least a kilometer deep in the earth, where it had grown significantly hotter, though still not as much as Anton’s time in Droca. Part of that likely had something to do with the way air flowed through the tunnels.

Circumnavigating the ring, they eventually came to large doors. Or at least what had been doors. Metals used by cultivators were often resistant to rust and tarnish, especially if enchanted… which allowed these to hold their shape. There were holes, however, and their hinges had long since fallen apart. Whatever enchantments had supported them had faded away. Beyond the doors was a large chamber with something in the center… but also clear traces of formation runes.

“I don’t think it’s active,” Anton said. “But… I wouldn’t want to bet on it. Anything that can survive for this long should have been pretty nasty to begin with.”

His eyes lingered in the middle of the area, where a hexagonal plate of some sort rested on the floor. That was what radiated the energy he was feeling, and was the only thing in the room that remained in pristine condition. It would be so easy to go pick it up, but that was exactly why it would be prudent to be cautious.

“Some of us should remain here, I think,” Hoyt said. “While others go get a specialist.”

The others agreed. And so, they waited.

-----

The hunt was over, and those guarding the underground facility had swapped with others several times. No fewer than two Life Transformation cultivators at any time were present together, until finally Catarina arrived several weeks later.

“Sorry it took so long,” Catarina said as she descended with Anton. “I was at the Worthy Shore Society finishing up business.”

“That box?” Anton asked.

“That’s right! I opened the whole thing. You want to guess what was inside?”

“Based on previous knowledge… another larger box. Or nothing.”

“Several boxes,” Catarina said. “And then… nothing.” Catarina shrugged, “But hey, that’s Everheart for you. Definitely his work. Personally I found the techniques involved to be the most important part. Restriction and confounding methods, high level spatial manipulation, and efficient energy usage.”

“You think that those who had it before… Golden Star Island… did they manage to open it first?”

Catarina shook her head, “Definitely not. There were clear signs we were the first. I’m glad the Worthy Shore Society let me back to work on it.”

“I doubt they would have finished it without you.”

“Maybe not, but only because they’d keep ascending their best formation masters.” Catarina’s eyes lit up, “Ooh, is this it?”

“Yes it is but don’t-” Anton sighed, “-just walk into the room. It’s safe, then?”

Catarina only took a few steps, slowly making her way around in a circle. “Probably. One moment.”

For her, that one moment was several hours, as she carefully looked at each concentric ring and what remained of the formations… but nothing happened with her, and she did nothing but take notes. No disarming or changing of the runes.

She stopped when she reached the hexagonal plate, perhaps a fingerwidth thick and thirty centimeters across. It was lying on the ground next to what might have once been some sort of pedestal. She flicked her energy under it, and it flipped over. Then she picked it up. “Seems to be safe.” She twisted it around in her hands. “This is… part of something else.”

“What do you mean?” Anton asked.

“Maybe it was the core of this formation,” Catarina said. “It should be something like that. Or maybe a key? Either way, by itself it does nothing but… exist. Maybe there’s a way to activate it, but I could tell it wasn’t doing anything.”

“So not dangerous then.”

“Currently? No.” Catarina shook her head. “But I’m pretty sure at some point this whole place was designed to implode on anyone trying to take this thing. Not just falling rocks, but a kilometer of rocks squashed down on top of anyone in the area, at great speed. The rings would help with that.”

“I thought they were for airflow.”

“That too,” Catarina said. “I believe they drew in air and natural energy to power the formation. It came from a wide area so that it wouldn’t be noticed.”

“Someone should have noticed the holes,” Anton said.

“Out in the wilderness?” Catarina asked. “Besides, they were probably disguised.”

“And there should have been a sect here defending the area,” Anton said, thinking of the rooms above. “In some previous cycle. Do you think the invaders got them?”

“Could have been anything,” Catarina shrugged, “With no records except the formations.”

“... ties to Everheart? I know he was from our cycle but… formations always seem that way.”

“I’d say… closer to what the Exalted Archipelago has. Proper, formalized… powerful, but unimaginative.”

“Great. So… what do we do with this? I assume you study it,” Anton said. “But then what?”

“Depends what I find.”

-----

A small cloud of swords spun and twirled, but instead of skillfully avoiding each other as Chikere’s tended to, they ricocheted off each other in all directions. That was not a failure, however, but by design- propelling some more quickly in one direction while rebounding others. However, this was not a new technique by Chikere, but rather belonged to another.

“Yep, pretty good,” Chikere nodded.

“That’s it?” Florry asked, clutching some of her swords to her. “I thought you might offer some constructive criticism or something…”

“Nah, you’re doing fine,” Chikere told her disciple. “Me telling you what to do would just end up with you fighting like me, and it’s pretty clear that isn’t going to happen. It probably wouldn’t be better, anyway.”

Florry nodded. “Are you disappointed?”

“Why would I be?”

“It’s been forty years since I became your disciple and I haven’t even advanced to Life Transformation… I’m much older than you were when you reached it.”

“So?” Chikere shrugged. “Do you know how old Swordmaster Rahayu was when he reached Life Transformation?”

“... I don’t. The information available on him was rather limited.”

“I don’t know either,” Chikere grinned.

“O… kay?”

“What I do know was that he was gray haired when he ascended. But I’m going to look like this when I do,” Chikere gestured to herself as a whole, still looking like she was no older than her thirties by the standards of people who didn’t cultivate. “Except maybe with more scars.”

“Is there… a lesson?” Florry tilted her head.

“Uh, sure. Talent isn’t just about who’s fastest, or whatever. Nobody’s killed you in battle yet, right?”

Florry looked down at herself. “... No?”

“Then you’re doing great.”

“I haven’t been in as many conflicts as you.”

“A minor detail. If you never get into a battle, it doesn’t matter if you didn’t win. My only question… have you ever been unable to do something you wanted to with your strength?”

Deciding that ‘understand her own master’ was not an appropriate answer, Florry shook her head. “No. I haven’t.”

“Then it’s fine. And you got all those swords yourself.”

“... not from other cultivators though. I mostly earned these from the sect or had them commissioned…”

“And yet you still built up a decent collection somehow.”

Florry continued to hold her arms in front of her across her chest, with the swords she carried still unsheathed and dangling next to her contradicting the security she felt from them. “I didn’t even fight in the war.”

“Did anyone die where you were assigned?”

“Well… no.”

“Then you won. Besides, didn’t you kill that assassin?” Chikere stepped forward.

“Well… yes,” she admitted. “But only because I had to.”

“Same with me,” Chikere grinned. “Don’t worry about it. You do fine in spars, and though it might be good to get more life and death battles with humans under your belt, you have plenty against beasts. No problems.”

“Still… some people say I don’t deserve to be the personal disciple of a Swordmaster like yourself.”

“How many of them are Swordmasters, hmm?” Chikere asked.

“None of them.”

“That’s right. Because they don’t know anything. I don’t know who you mean but I bet they dropped out of my training because they didn’t want to die.”

“But you wouldn’t kill anyone… like that,” Florry said.

“Sure I would. If they weren’t good enough and didn’t know when to give up, or couldn’t take a hint? They’d die.”

“But you haven’t.”

“My hints aren’t very subtle. Everyone’s understood them so far.”

-----

With various people preparing disciples for their inevitable ascension in the next decade or two, Anton found himself with little to do in that regard. He had numerous individuals who learned from him, but none that really needed his continuous instruction. There were some things he’d have to eventually wrap up, before he tried anything, but if he was successful he wouldn’t actually go anywhere. That was the theory, anyway. If he failed an alternate method of ascension the chances of his death were pretty high, but with real ascension there was also a risk of death- and success likewise meant no longer being around.

Still, he would at least like to make one more tour of everything he could, visiting those he’d met, before he committed himself to any attempts. There were times he’d been unable to say goodbye to those he cared about, and he wanted that… for both sides.

Anton supposed he especially needed to pay some attention to Gudrun. Annelie’s daughter was no longer a child, but she was still in important, formative parts of her cultivation. And though she made use of ice, she was an archer like himself. Though her common methods of attack involved laying down traps of slick ice for her opponents either before a battle or by shooting at a surface and coating it during battle, developing her range to be further was still quite important. If she never had to engage the enemy at all, it was for the best. Her proficiency with Horizon Shot was modest at the moment, only reaching a handful of kilometers on the far end- a distance that could technically be seen on flat ground. But she needed both a higher cultivation and more training to overcome that.

“Now, your ice arrows are heaver than standard Spirit Arrows,” Anton said. “So it is unlikely you’ll ever achieve exactly the same distance. Even if it’s just the form of ice, it carries with it some weight. But there are some subtle changes you can make to have significant improvement.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” she said. He was more than a couple extra generations further removed than being her actual grandfather, but it was extremely cumbersome to say it every time, and none of Anish and Annelie’s children spoke of him that way unless they were clarifying. Not even those who leaned more towards the Frostmirror Sect’s side of things with the overly logical and emotionless speech. They understood efficiency, at least.

Gudrun would be fine. So would Anish and Annelie, Anton supposed. He knew they had been undecided on whether they would try to ascend, and at the very least they didn’t plan to attempt the breakthrough at the earliest possible time despite their high talent. Part of that was they continued to have children every once in a while. In the past couple decades there were two more, which meant even if they immediately ceased having children theirs would barely be adults by cultivator standards at the potential earliest mark.

Anton was rather pleased about that. It was nice to have the family expanding again… and in several different places. It did make it hard to keep up with them all, but compared to when he thought he’d lost everyone he was very satisfied. The world… was good.