NOVEL SIMPLE Book 1 – Arc 4 Prologue – “The Darkest Night.”
Swish!
The Captain’s halberd cut through the air, cutting another large, zombified creature in half. The shockwave of the attack traveled outward, cutting down several dozen smaller zombies behind the creature.
Grass Tigers, Living Swamps, Tri-horned Converters, and so, so many Grassbreakers. Almost every species found in the Radiant Sea seemed represented in the endless horde. The Captain had even seen several Grand Elk sprinkled through their ranks.
Stripped of their gentle, timid nature, these zombified Grand Elk turned into engines of destruction. The undead’s deteriorated state and lack of general intelligence meant their overall spirit control was only a fraction of what it had been in life. Ironically, that also meant the sheer physical might of the Grand Elk put them a step above the common rank and file.
Coupled with defenders who had been taught all their lives to respect and protect the Spirit Beast who made their way of life possible, they were becoming a real problem.
The Captain twirled his halberd in the air, spinning it so fast that it became a blur to mortal eyes, then slammed it into the ground. The contained Spirit energy rushed into the ground, keeping its momentum. In the blink of an eye, the ground surrounding the Captain twisted and swirled for several dozen meters. A vortex of twisted earth and jagged stone spikes pushed their way out of the ground, impaling, crushing, or just flat-out burying hundreds of undead.
As a late state [Golden Spirit] Cultivator, the Captain might not have been able to summon or truly manipulate the elements like a [Shackle Breaker] had learned how to, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t without his tricks.
After all, if the purpose of the first half of the [Mortal Foundation] realm was to reforge your body, first to wood, then stone, and finally iron, then the latter half was to polish your spirit. Many thought the “spirit steps” of bronze, silver, and gold were named such only for the color of one’s Spirit aura at each step, but the truth was a bit more complicated.
To ‘polish’ one’s spirit was a literal step. Every creature accumulates grime and impurities during its life. The second half of [Mortal Foundation] was dedicated to cleaning away those impurities, literally scrubbing them away from your aura with Spirit energy. As you did so, your original grimy, bronze aura would slowly reveal the silver shine underneath, culminating in a brilliant golden gleam.
This scrubbing process not only prepared the Cultivator to break their mortal shackles, but also taught them how to control their Spirit energy properly.
These skills would be the literal foundation on which all of a person’s later cultivation would be based.
[Shackle Breaking] Cultivators, such as the Lord of the West Gate off in the distance, could directly manipulate the elements with their Spirit energy. The dark fog appeared like a rumbling, 100-meter-wide thundercloud from a distance. Flashes of lightning and the crash of thunder could even be heard from within. The Westgate Matriarch floated in meditation within its center while other powerful family members surrounded her.
Yet, if you got close enough, you’d see the “cloud” was actually a swarm of millions, possibly billions, of tiny, black iron balls, constantly swirling and striking each other. Wherever the cloud passed, all that was left was a field of minced gore and burned remains.
The Captain could only stare in awe. The Thunderhead was said to be a powerful artifact passed down through the Westgate family since before the Wandering Cities had even been formed. Yet, despite its enormous power, rumored capable of suppressing even early-step [Earthly Transcendents], it had always remained just that, a rumor.
The costs of using such an artifact were immense, after all.
If the Jadewalker families were breaking out their family treasures already, the situation must be far more dire than he thought. The Captain pulled his halberd from the ground and took a deep breath. The surrounding Guardians and Adventurers who’d pulled back at his arrival pushed forward once more. Now that he’d broken this push by the undead, others could take over and reinforce the front. Even now, barriers were being raised as the undead rushed to fill the gap he’d created.
Every inch they pushed the tide back was an inch farther away from the walls of the Earth Shrine and an inch away from the innocents who hid behind them.
The Captain took the time to catch his breath and restore some of his strength. He’d have a few moments before his next orders came in. He still wasn’t quite used to all this rushing about, though. It had been decades since he’d been on the front lines like this. But as one of the stronger [Golden Spirit] Cultivators, the Jadewalker command was making full use of him as a tide-breaker.
A sudden buzzing sound caught his attention, and he turned to see a large wasp-like creature land on his armored shoulder. Despite the loud roar of the chaotic battle, the creature’s voice was clear and easily heard.
“Daddy!”
The Captain tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as he asked.
“Why are you here, daughter? I thought you were coordinating with the general?”
The small drone wiggled and spoke again.
“I was the closest to you. We have an emergency. Sections C-34 through 37 have collapsed. The general wants you there right away!”
The Captain’s frown deepened, and he nodded, then turned toward the area he’d been told. Before he rushed off, he spoke to the drone one last time.
“Understood. Tell the general I’m on my way.”
The drone nodded and flew off. As the Captain watched the drone fly toward the direction of the wall, he shook his head.
The Capitan didn’t know how General Westgate, Matriarch Westgate’s husband and the commander of the Jadewalker Guardians, had found out about the Slatewalker children’s new “toys” even before he had. But the man had instantly seen their strategic use.
It was no exaggeration to say they had been instrumental in their defense efforts so far. Not only had the undead appeared, but several key communication arrays and transmission relays had gone totally haywire or been straight-up attacked shortly after. Without the children’s help, coordinating a defense would have been far more difficult and far more costly.
The attacks on their communication network were worrying, however. It suggested that this wasn’t just a random disaster but something more malicious, forcing the city to split its defenses between protecting the wall and stopping attacks from within.
The Captain stared back and the wall and whispered to himself.
“Please… stay safe…”
———————
Malaki sat at the small table across from the warehouse, staring at the chessboard before him. He furrowed his brow and reached for a piece. He paused, thinking, then switched to another piece, smiling. Maliit wordlessly moved her knight, taking Malaki’s bishop and trapping his queen. Malaki’s smile flipped to a frown, and he glared at his wife. The old woman didn’t return the glare, but stared at the warehouse across the street.
She smiled slightly and spoke.
“They’re doing well, if I say so myself. That little girl of the Captain’s, in particular, has quite the knack for this sort of thing. She might be quite the monster in a few centuries.”
Malaki didn’t bother looking up from the board as he responded, his eyes totally focused on his next move.
“Bah! Children playing in a bigger child’s sandbox are still playing. A few new toys and some unexpected tricks don’t a genius make.”
Maliit giggled and poked her husband’s arm.
“You’re just mad she pulled a fast one on you.”
Malaki slammed his hands into the table, causing the pieces to jump into the air, though they landed perfectly in place.
“What kind of psychopath replaces the sugar in their cookies with [Flame-touched Albastar Honey]?! Where the hell did a little girl even get a [Fifth-Circle] reagent?! Huh?! Tell me that!”
Maliit looked away and whistled innocently.
After a moment, she turned back and smiled, her voice playful.
“Come now, don’t be such a grumpy-pants. They were quite good, if I had to say so. Besides, if you were really that upset, you’d not be going through so much trouble to ensure they were safe.”
As if on cue, a formation surrounding the warehouse flickered, and a shadowy figure materialized on top of the roof. The figure panicked, leaping away, but didn’t make it far as they were instantly beset but over a dozen Jadewalker Guardians who appeared from their hiding spots.
Malaki didn’t respond, only tsked and moved another piece on his board. One that was instantly swiped by his wife’s rook.
A vein throbbing in his head, Malaki ground his teeth and huffed.
“Why would I let some filthy cultists touch my kids? If we weren’t on vacation, I’d squash this fragment myself and be done with this whole mess. Honestly, how could they have been so foolish as to not clean up their mess? Everyone knows that when you leave something rot, it keeps coming back.”
Maliit sighed and shook her head as she spoke.
“Now, come on, dear. You, more than anyone, should know Iris isn’t someone so easily dissuaded. That one’s always had the habit of popping back up at the most unapportioned times.”
The two were silent for a while, exchanging pieces on the board several times before Malaki asked.
“And if these idiots poke at things best left buried beneath the rot?”
Maliit paused mid-move. She held the piece in the air before setting it back down. She stared at her husband for a long moment and spoke.
“Then the adults will just have to remind the children why they should listen to their elders.”
Maliit picked up a different piece and placed it down.
“Checkmate.”
Malaki stared down at the pieces, then grumbled wordlessly before restarting the board entirely.
———————
Khutulun Emelia Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca MMCCCXIII sat on the tall chair at the back of the warehouse that General Westgate had brought her and the rest of the Slatewalker children to after she’d presented her plan to him.
Not that a small child from a backwater village typically got to present strategic plans to the military commander of the fourth-largest city in the Radiant Sea. But it was hard to ignore the large talking wasp when it flew directly in your face. Even harder when it kept reforming every time you tried to swat it away.
When the walls of the Earth Shrine went up, the children of the Slatewalker village, being the curious people they were, naturally used the magic artifacts the Lord Protector had gifted them to peek over.
Instead of something exciting or mysterious like they’d expected, Khutulun had to use all of her leadership skills to stop the children from falling into a blind panic at what they’d seen.
Her first thought had been to run to her father. This was beyond her, beyond any of them. Still, she knew she couldn’t just do nothing, either. Her father had always taught her she had to rise up in times of trouble. That she had to be the shield and wall that would protect her friends when they needed it.
Even the Lord Protector said he expected great things from her!
If she did nothing, how could she ever expect to face either of them again? But part of her knew that for as powerful and wise as her father seemed to her sometimes, this was beyond even him, as well. Even her father couldn’t fight this kind of battle.
So she did the only thing she could think to do. She went to those who could.
It had only taken a short while to explain what she and the other children could do, though it took slightly longer to convince the man she was telling the truth. Once she had, he’d sent an entire squad of Guardians to escort the children to the warehouse. Now every child was organized into several groups, spread out across the open floor as they relayed information and orders to the various parts of the battlefield. Several of the younger children had difficulty, but an overseeing Guardian stood by with each group to help coordinate and direct them as needed.
Several of the children’s parents had even followed along, unwilling to let their children leave their side, despite the guardian’s assurance they would be perfectly safe. Her own mother and a few others hopped from group to group, bringing refreshments, calming children, and generally addressing any needs that might come up.
They’d even worked out a system where one child’s [Wasp], as the Lord Protector had called them, could project the video feed from another on the field to better coordinate and identify threats.
Khutulun had just cut her own feed after giving her father his orders before taking a deep, stuttering breath. She struggled to fight back the tears forming in her eyes, but they fell regardless as a large, callused hand patted her on the top of her head.
The young girl looked up to see General Westgate smiling warmly down at her. He spoke with a hoarse voice broken by centuries of yelling orders, yet one that still somehow held a gentle, if commanding, tone that reminded her of her father.
“Your father is a powerful man. He’ll be fine. You’re doing well, young one, but do not falter yet. We still have much to do.”
Khutulun paused, then wiped away her tears. She looked up at the general and nodded, her small fists clenched tight. Then, with a wave of her hand, she brought her video feedback online, ready to deliver the next order.