Elder Cultivator

Chapter 1000

In the private quarters of Timothy and Catarina, they were having a heated discussion. They didn’t necessarily have any disagreements, it was simply that the topic was filled with emotion for both.

“What if the same thing as last time happens?” Timothy asked.

Catarina thought for a few moments, taking the question seriously. “Then we’ll be ready to handle it. This time we have more experience and won’t have to rely on luck. Besides, we can’t really say things ended poorly, did they?”

Timothy sighed. “No. But they easily could have.”

“It’s not impor- not critical to the Alliance, whatever we do,” Catarina said. “We can just let someone else take the opportunity, if we decide against it.”

“How long do we have?” Timothy asked.

“A few months, at most. Though I’d prefer to decide earlier, just in case.”

Timothy nodded slowly. “We’ll keep talking about it. I think… we probably should. And the timing isn’t bad. A century or two from now and I would be concerned.”

“Should we ask anyone else?” Catarina asked.

“We know what most of them will say. It’s our decision. But we also know what they would actually want. Which is mostly whatever we want, but still. People have thoughts.”

They would come to an agreement, soon enough. They always did. Especially when they made it clear neither of them had to pick a side, and they really just wanted to do whatever was best. Usually, their choices worked out.

-----

With the lower realms being stable, Anton was granted an opportunity to travel to new locations… but he wasn’t exploring new territory. Chances were, they would end up in another conflict. Of course, it wasn’t quite that bad. A majority of their contacts had been peaceable and positive. But the few bad ones had left quite a few scars.

Rather than going further afield, Anton was simply visiting the Shining Cooperative. They had been wary of someone of his strength previously, but now that they were developing more strong cultivators of their own he didn’t seem so far off. In most of their systems, he had the strength of merely a powerful Assimilation cultivator, instead of Enrichment. Either way, the Shining Cooperative’s citizens had plenty of time to grow used to the idea of his existence, and plenty of evidence of his good intentions.

There still remained no plans to join together the Lower Realms Alliance and the Shining Cooperative. They were good neighbors, but they had enough differences that trying to integrate their cultures would be problematic. And unnecessary. Travel between them wasn’t completely unrestricted, but it was common enough even for those who weren’t involved in trade.

Adding individual planets or systems to the Lower Realms Alliance was much simpler, as the focused attention could minimize any friction. Even the Sylanis Cluster was nicely integrating, though that had been a very slow process to even officially begin. They were only a few systems, but they had been at peace for most of their shared history. The Shining Cooperative had never been on the other side of a conflict, but they had dozens of systems and many worlds. Neither group would be satisfied with the changes required to exactly fit into one thing, nor would they be happy with the others leading.

So, peace. And a less binding alliance, mostly in case something happened on the eastern border. Though Anton was interested in joining forces for trouble they knew was coming. The next cycle was, if not just around the corner, approaching rapidly enough to be a concern. A bit more or less than two centuries was when the Tides of the World would shift, allowing the upper realms to enter the lower realms without as many issues as they would normally encounter.

The Trigold Cluster was of chief concern to the Shining Cooperative, and the Alliance had plenty of historical conflict with them. Any cooperation in taking them out would be optimal, if they could accomplish it.

Anton of course had to check on his disciples on Mazlerth. There were frequent messages, but some things simply didn’t come across as well unless witnessed in person.

The popularity of the One Hundred Stars had been swelling, which wasn’t terribly surprising given that they had Assimilation cultivators now. Both Izaak and his sister Marianna had reached Assimilation in less than two hundred years. That was faster than many cultivators aiming for Ascension or Assimilation, but certainly not on the top end. Then again, they had a significant disadvantage during their early training.

Mazlerth simply hadn’t had enough natural energy to support what they needed, nor other cultivators of significant level. Only now did Anton find the planet’s energy levels acceptable, but reaching that from a low population after just a couple centuries of development was actually quite pleasing. There was no hope of any of them to reach Enrichment, but that was an unrealistic standard to set upon anyone.

Anton, Lev, and Devon all knew that it wasn’t something anyone could be expected to achieve regardless of support and resources. Assimilation wasn’t a guarantee either, but it was at least a hundred times more achievable. Actual statistics weren’t exactly clear yet, with just the three of them. There were many with potential, but until they either succeeded or failed nobody could say for certain how to count them.

He didn’t spend overly long with Izaak and the sect on Mazlerth. Not that he popped in for just a few days- but he only stayed a few months. Relatively short, in the grand scheme of things. They were doing well enough, and he wasn’t needed to handle any issues. Better to let them do it themselves, if they could. Nothing outrageous, as the leadership had plenty of support, but sometimes even with all their efforts a few bad eggs slipped through. There could also be conflict with others competing for resources, though the Shining Cooperative had embraced the general strictures about building up planets’ natural energy.

Elsewhere in the Shining Cooperative, Anton confirmed various snippets of history others had already learned. They weren’t exactly hiding anything, but there were a few reasons they didn’t exactly mesh. The Shining Cooperative had been rather aggressive in their expansion. While Anton truly believed they had good intentions, seeking to wipe out the Twin Soul Sect and other influence of the upper realms, they hadn’t exactly given the remaining citizens of various planets any choice about joining.

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There was still some bitterness about that, though for the most part those cultivators that were hundreds of years old had grown to accept the situation. Nor was there much of anything to stage a rebellion against. Being part of the Shining Cooperative was better for them.

Anton wouldn’t have chosen to do things that way, of course, but what was done was done. Forcibly separating people now would already be impossible. He couldn’t say he didn’t understand, but he was disappointed. Yet with that disappointment came hope, as he hoped they might learn from the example of the Lower Realms Alliance. Not that there seemed to be anywhere else for them to incorporate, as most of the region around them had been surveyed.

Perhaps there were some systems at the extreme edges, or tucked in between the Lower Realms Alliance and the Shining Cooperative, but there wasn’t much else. They still had plenty of room to expand, of course. They could easily ten times as many systems before the borders would be strained. Many centuries, and it would only be relevant if both groups survived the next cycle. Which… was an unknown. It was easy to anticipate a serious assault from the upper realms, and though it was two centuries away their agents in the upper realms had already spotted some signs.

-----

Despite the wildest plans of Catarina, not all of the Scarlet Alliance flowed through Xankeshan. Not yet, at least. Even so, it had become the most populated planet given its central location. Its size then attracted more growth, and so on. It was far from becoming crowded, with the luxuries afforded by the seemingly limitless formations on the planet, but it was quite filled out compared to the deathtrap it had once been.

Because of its importance, many people passed through. And so if there was to be a chance meeting between any two individuals, Xankeshan was the most likely place.

Chikere had been passing through to check up on her disciple and her friends. She didn’t usually stay long, because she found her best enlightenment came in true battle. There weren’t many things that challenged her, but she tried to seek out interesting opportunities. Sometimes, she limited herself.

She was very sensitive to a certain sort of gaze. Not casual glances, or even rude staring. No, it only came when there was a certain sort of intensity. An intensity as the large man staring at her held.

He was not the largest brute she’d ever seen, but he certainly radiated the right sort of aura. Wondering if he intended to fight- despite his weak cultivation- Chikere approached him. There was nothing she liked more than a direct blade to the throat. Though sometimes, she limited herself to doing so with words. “What are you doing, huh? Wanna fight?”

The man stared. “I feel like… you’re supposed to have a sword?” He tilted his head. “I thought you were supposed to have a sword.”

“I do,” Chikere said. “If you can’t feel it, that’s a lapse in your training.”

“Hmm. I’m not really a sword guy.”

At some point in her past, she might have killed someone for saying that. On Xankeshan, she wouldn’t. Or anywhere in the Alliance, if people weren’t actually causing trouble. Besides, she had come to realize it was fine for people to be wrong.

“What kind of guy are you, then?” Chikere looked him up and down.

“Hammer,” he said, pointing to his hip.

“Hmm. I would have maybe said you were a mountain guy. Or a forehead guy.”

The man rubbed his forehead. “No. I was just training with someone, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe you,” Chikere said.

The man frowned. “I can ask him to tell you? Though I don’t think it’s important.”

Chikere waved her hand. “Not that you were training. I just don’t believe you’re a hammer guy. You don’t feel like one.” Chikere leaned close. He looked horrified. “If you really were, I should be able to feel it. Like you felt I should have a sword.”

“So like… by remembering a statue?” the man tilted his head.

Chikere raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh, I just remembered why I felt like you should have a sword. I saw that statue,” he gestured, but there was nothing in eyesight. Chikere assumed he was referring to the grand hall. Now that he mentioned, there was a statue of her there, wasn’t there? Maybe she should make them update it. Then again, they could hardly make one of her blood swords, so it was probably fine as is.

“... Did you not feel my sword aura?” Chikere said, disappointed.

The man shrugged. “I’m not really good at sharp stuff. It always breaks.”

“Right?” Chikere said. “But that’s part of the challenge. Besides, I could break your hammer.”

The man shifted, placing the hip where his hammer was attached behind him. “Don’t do that. I like this hammer.”

“It’s not that great,” Chikere said. “I know I’m not a master of hammers, but I’ve seen better.”

He looked down sadly. “It’s the best one I’ve ever had.”

Chikere crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, no wonder. You need to take that and beat down a bunch of other hammer users and take a better one from one of them.”

“I, uh. Isn’t that rude?”

“Someone outside the alliance, obviously,” Chikere said. “You could even take several hammers. I don’t know how you fight, but the point is to grasp better ones with your own hands.”

“Well, yeah. I can’t hold them well with my feet.” He pulled out his hammer, swapping it from hand to hand. “I could probably only hold two.”

“Have you?” Chikere asked.

“Not seriously,” the man admitted.

“You should try it. Just so you know what kind of hammer guy you’re trying to become.” With that, she turned around. “Anyway, if you don’t mind your hammer being made out of melted down swords, I’ll probably have some scrap soon. You can send a message to me.”

“How?” the man asked. “I don’t even know your name.”

“... Didn’t you see my statue?”

He tilted his head. “Was your name on it? Sorry, I missed it.”

“It’s Chikere,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Durff,” he said. “You know, someone mentioned you. I think.”

“Lots of people do,” Chikere shrugged. She wondered if sword materials were different from hammer materials. Probably. But they had to share some things, so a good smith could pick something out.

She didn’t know why she made the offer. It was probably better for him to get his own material anyway, but for some reason she thought he deserved to have a nice hammer. If nothing else, he was straightforward enough.