Elder Cultivator

Departing from Draza- but not letting the merchant out of his senses- Anton continued to move throughout Moturn. The merchant would have to think of some way to create a new identity to avoid retribution from the Twisting Spike sect. He might not be successful, but Anton would be around, watching.

He had no intention to wait for the situation to develop further. He wanted to resolve everything with his current presence. Of course, that could be a few years if people were patient. He did have to finish with the star, so he wouldn’t mind if things were drawn out. But he had the feeling a certain group wasn’t going to let that happen.

Walking into the worst part of the city- it must have all been constructed about the same time, but one segment had clearly been meant to be temporary- Anton looked for a particular urchin who had been the catalyst of his interference in this place. Several people attempted to pick his pocket or yank on his purse, but Anton only gave them disapproving looks… after which they scuttled away in a panic. Nobody here could touch him if he didn’t let them, and their hands suddenly stopping was the sign of a cultivator.

Did they risk it because he was old? Anton supposed with his bow stowed away he looked quite nonthreatening. Hopefully he could guide them on a path where they wouldn’t throw away what life they had. But first he had to deal with a certain young man.

He made his way to a back alley where wide eaves provided a sort of shelter, combined with rotting crates for privacy. It wasn’t much of a shelter, but Anton supposed the habitat had one valuable feature above all others. There was no weather, so the only variations in climate were the artificial lights of the ‘day’ and the darkness of the night. Barely a few degrees difference in temperature, though not every area matched the intended temperatures perfectly.

In this case, the slums were a bit hot. That was easier to deal with, at least.

“Hey, kid,” Anton said as he rounded the corner. “Wanna become a cultivator?”

The young man nearly turned to run away, but was clearly taken off guard. He rose from his crouched position slowly. “I’m not going to be turned into soup.”

That was… an odd response. A lot to unpack. Did he think Anton was going to kill him and cook him? Was that something that happened? Anton didn’t think so, even in this place. But the kid seemed to think it was possible. “Has that ever happened?” Anton asked.

“I’ve heard about it. Some ‘cultivator’ comes along and says a random kid has talent. Then they get turned into materials.”

Anton frowned. “Would it help that I have no idea if you have any talent?”

“Uh… no?”

“Too bad. I’m Anton, by the way. Order of One Hundred Stars. We cultivate fire and light, though there are many branches of techniques.” Anton demonstrated by filling his hand with flame. He did make sure he stood far enough back that the kid didn’t feel too oppressed. It wasn’t supposed to be a threat. “Do you have a name?” Anton already knew it was Abder, but he’d only heard that indirectly.

“... Does telling you my name give you power over me?”

“I don’t believe that’s the case for any sort of cultivator.” At worst, someone might use a simple exchange of information as an opportunity to begin some sort of manipulation. Perhaps an extremely esoteric technique might gain some power from names. “I can teach you different styles as well, if you aren’t into fire and light.”

“Like what?” Abder asked.

“Pretty much anything. Pick a weapon, pick an element. I have manuals for most things. Oh, no blood techniques though.” Technically Anton had some, but most of them were risky for their users. Not something he’d give to an untested kid. “Oh, and you have to promise you won’t steal.”

“So, what, I begin cultivating and then… starve to death?”

“I’d not let a disciple starve. Do you like mushrooms?” Anton asked, pulling one about the size of his head from his storage bag and tearing off a chunk that he devoured. Anton held it out.

“I’m not accepting your deal,” the kid said. Anton just pushed the mushroom closer. Abder took it. “Is it poisonous? I hear cultivators can resist poison.” Abder’s stomach growled.

“Only one way to find out, I suppose,” Anton shrugged.

“... Feed it to someone else.”

Anton chuckled. “I suppose that works. If you want to share it, I won’t stop you.”

“I’m gonna… go test this on someone,” Abder said.

“Is that so?” Anton asked. He leaned back against the wall. “I’ll wait here. Don’t get yourself in trouble.”

Abder scuttled off through the back alleys, relaxing once he was out of sight of Anton. Which told Anton he didn’t know much about cultivators. Even weaker ones could sense that far away. Ultimately, the kid found his way around to the other side of the alley wall through a circuitous route. He actually ate some of the mushroom himself before he got there, then waited a bit before offering any. Ṛ𝐚𐌽ỔᛒΕȘ

Anton was glad. He didn’t have any knowledge of this kid’s temperament, though he believed he could patch together even one with a rough background. Not everyone came with compassion, but people could usually learn it if given a chance.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Abder shared with two more young kids before returning to Anton. “I’m Abder,” he said. “It doesn’t look like my test subject is going to die.” He ate a much smaller bite in front of Anton. “You said you can teach me anything?”

“Pretty much,” Anton said.

“... I want to know the Twisting Spike Technique.”

“Bold,” Anton said. “They might not take well to someone stealing their style. But I can give you a copy.”

Abder frowned. “Really?”

“If that’s what you want.” Anton happened to already have one from that old woman. Her storage bag had been pretty empty- not that it could have held much to begin with- but it at least had the proper cultivation method of the sect in there. “Personally, I’d rank it as middling.”

“... you’re crazy,” Abder said. “It’s the best technique in all of Moturn.”

“Nah,” Anton said. “And even if it was, it’s still not great. You can have something better. Sword techniques, ice, plants, beast transformations, body tempering, whirlwind styles…” Anton was trying to gauge the kid’s reaction.

The scrawny kid frowned. “Body tempering? Isn’t that the first stage of cultivation? Why would you list that separately?”

“Because instead of training natural energy, you can focus exclusively on that. Well, not that a skinny kid like you has much chance.”

“Oh yeah?” Abder said. “I just bet you’re afraid I’ll… punch you. Or something.”

“Petrified,” Anton said neutrally. “It’s a bit of an oddball technique, though,” Anton said. “If you’re not good at it…”

“I will be!” Abder said. “I’ll be so good. You don’t even know.”

“You’ll have to eat a lot.”

“Uh…” the kid frowned. “You’ll feed me, right? Since you’re a cultivator maybe even… meat?”

“You’ll eat plants and you’ll like it,” Anton said. He couldn’t easily secure meat unless Moturn’s general production went up. Also, the kid really needed a wide variety of nutrients right now.

“Fine. So what do I do?”

Anton didn’t know if the kid would be good at advanced body tempering, but he could at least teach him some proper forms to be ready to make his choice later, once he’d experienced natural energy. He needed the same foundation either way.

-----

When Anton returned ‘home’, he found people waiting to kill him. They were waiting in the shadowed corners of the room, as if any half-competent cultivator couldn’t sense them. “You don’t want to die for something stupid like this,” Anton said.

A man rushed him once he noted their presence. A thin blade stabbed Anton in the eye. Or rather, it hit the surface of his eye and stopped.

“You done?” Anton asked. The man tried to stab him again, aiming to stab in his ear. Anton shook his head, then sent a wave of his energy into the man. He died from internal damage, simply toppling over and leaving no blood for the poor people who owned this room to have to clean up. “The rest of you can still make better choices.”

Two more people rushed Anton together. They died in much the same manner.

The fourth individual jumped out the window. Anton would have let her out the door, but she probably didn’t believe that. “Good choice!” Anton called after her. “If your sect head is awful, don’t report back for your own sake!” The woman staggered, hesitating. Then she continued on her way.

Anton carried the other three bodies directly outside, dumping them on the opposite side of the street. The owner of the apartments stared at him wide eyed. “I can leave if you want,” Anton said. “Whatever causes you less trouble.” The woman’s eyes flickered back and forth between Anton and the bodies. “I can also wait here for when they send more people.”

The woman bit her lip. “You’ll be safer if you run.”

“But will you?” Anton asked.

“... I can’t have my guests die.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Anton said. Then he went back inside.

-----

Inside the local star, Anton began to slowly push back the corruption. With his conscious control, experience, and connection to over a hundred other stars, Anton was able to make consistent progress. It wasn’t going to be a short task, though. Decades, likely. Though that was because he wanted to maintain proper caution.

More than half of Anton’s total effort was focused on the star. A much smaller sliver went to his projection on Unov, and if necessary he could let that fall away. Hadrianus might be worried, but Anton could easily return.

The darkness within the star was also quite… heavy. Like shackles limiting its ability to engage in fusion. He was glad that he’d immediately began the task, because he honestly didn’t know if the star would split or explode or collapse or what if the process got further.

But Anton was pushing it back, expanding his wall brick by brick. He wasn’t much of an architect, but he’d done necessary work around his farm. Putting together an enduring wall of energy wasn’t really much different, as he had far more experience in that field. He didn’t directly try to resist the pressure pushing against him, but instead let his wall of energy curve- without letting anything through to corrupt the other side.

Then he would carve out a small section, no bigger than a modest city, building up a new wall and then eliminating the corruption within the surrounded zone. And he did that over and over. Stars were quite big, as it turned out, so even if he’d been encircling areas the size of continents it would take time.

As he pushed further, he wouldn’t have to maintain such a large wall and his progress could hopefully accelerate. Either way, he’d see things through to the end.

-----

In the morning, there were a hundred cultivators surrounding Anton’s apartment. They took up the whole street when he stepped out. A middle aged woman among them spoke. “You will come with us to meet Sect Head Jaya.”

It was about time. Though Anton had also been hoping that he might learn more about other factions first. After all, someone was going to have to replace them. “Is it a long walk?” Anton asked. He just got prodded with spears. How rude. “Fine, I’m going.”

He actually knew how far he had to go. A couple districts over, in fact. Quite an inconvenient trip for non-cultivators. As for the group with him, they kept prodding him to move faster. Anton kind of wanted to simply outrun them, but looking like he was vulnerable currently fit his plans best. And maybe he could talk some sense into the higher ups. Or maybe Jaya would be apologizing for her subordinates’ reckless actions. As if.

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