The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

"Of course, this tests how good your formations are and how well you integrate all the components. We're handing out these." As the elder spoke, Oscar and the others received several green bars of viridium. "The bars you have are of 80 percent purity. If any of you rookies think of complaining, then I'll shove a hammer down your throats. Now you will have the pellets you've refined and three cores of the Silver-Tongue Sabertooth. Like the one-star examination, you have three tries."

Oscar and the other contestants received their three cores and waited for the elder's next instructions.

"Rest for thirty minutes. The final part will take four hours. I have high expectations from all of you."

Sitting on his chair, Oscar reflected on everything he had read about spears from the Foundry library. He recalled the various formations that past fabricators created for the spear to take shape and become a true armament. Although he couldn't use the same formations because every armament was slightly different from the other, it was still good to have some references.

"How did they determine which spots were good or not?" Oscar didn't learn the knack for pinpointing the best points for nodes, which was why his armaments had adequate formations, which shortened their lifetimes. For fabricators, the best armaments had to be the ones that lasted the longest to be the best partner for an Exalt. Oscar's creations were fine but not good enough for the best.

Oscar tapped his hammer on his chair leg while he pondered the issue. His master, Draven, told him it was a matter of practice and time to reach the level of intuition needed, but Oscar wanted to know if there were other ways. The manual on formations said a person drew their formation out of three lines of thought, one to meld the materials, one to form the shape needed, and lastly, one to suit the fabricator's preference.

"I believe I have the shape down at the very least. But the shape doesn't matter if the materials also don't meld. What does it mean by the fabricator's preference?" Oscar sighed. He recalled many formations but couldn't think of how one suited a fabricator's preference.

"Time's up. You have four hours to produce a single armament. I realize the time is short, but we are on a schedule here, and I don't believe it should bother any of you."

Everyone seemed to be in sync as they tossed their fang pellets and several bars of viridium into their crucibles to melt. Oscar noticed that one particular fabricator summoned his anima, a crucible, and was melting their materials inside it.

"A crucible anima…." Oscar stared blankly at the person, who was concentrated on their crucible anima. He read about some individuals with animas best suited for melting materials. Oddly, the crucible anima types usually had the effect of aiding in the melding of materials, making it so the formation to finish the armament didn't need to be as complex as it should be. "If I had something like that, it would suit my poor formation skills."

He watched as his materials became a molten mixture. Oscar could leave this mixture for later and focus on the urgent part, the core. He held one of the bright yellow cores and placed it into a boiling pot of water.

His Ein flowed with the waters inside and reached the core, bombarding it. Faint lines began to shine bluish, followed by more lines showing themselves on the core's surface. Oscar frowned behind his helmet as a large creature swiped its claws and bit down on his Ein inside the core.

Within an empty dark space, a large primal beast with silver fur stared down at Oscar's Ein, growling and roaring as it bared its large fangs and silver tongue. Oscar could tell how fearsome this Exalt Beast was when it was alive, judging from the imposing presence it gave out.

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But as with the fangs, it was only an echo, a shade of what it once was. This appearance was merely the last vestiges of its unwillingness to yield as per its pride. Oscar sent forth his Ein that stabbed into the Silver-Tongued Sabertooth, which roared and tried to swipe its claws.

But like a piece of driftwood against a fierce wave, it was toppled over and drowned by Oscar's Ein. Oscar learned more about the creature's configuration with each passing moment as his Ein journeyed through its core. Finally, the beast was conquered and vanished from the core's inner space, letting Oscar fill it with his Ein.

The pot of water splashed out water, which evaporated into steam instantly as Oscar removed the yellow core with shining patterns all over its surface. Oscar peeled out the beast core's formation, cutting out the part which highlighted its sharp fangs, perfect for the tip.

Oscar poured some of the mixtures from the crucible into a mold and waited for it to firm up. With the core formation placed on its center, Oscar slowed his breathing and concentrated on what sort of formation would suit a spear. First, he placed a bright node on the top and bottom.

"What suits the spear? What melds the mixture the best? What reflects me?" These questions filled his mind as he thought about the formation. Oscar tapped his hammer on the unfinished spear until he swung several more times, forming the shaft.

His formation was coming to fruition, but Oscar felt apprehensive about how it looked. Oscar shook his head of the negative thoughts and still continued swinging. The spear was coming into shape, looking nice.

Oscar swung one final time, completing his formation. The lines and nodes retreated out of visibility, melding into the spear. With a set of tongs, Oscar dipped the long spear into the quenching oil, hissing and steaming as it went in.

A burst of Ein flew out. Oscar smiled, knowing it was a sign of success.

The spear was long with an emerald shaft and a long sharp blade at the end. The blade was about the size of Oscar's hand. Oscar was pleasantly surprised his first attempt succeeded, but was it up to par with the other contestants?

His hands held the spear flat to judge its balance and swung it through the air, creating a woosh sound, indicating it was a fine spear. Fine, but not perfect. Oscar put the spear aside to try the two other cores.

However, he was not so lucky on the next attempts. The formations fell apart after he retrieved a new spear from the oil, indicating how shoddy they were. Oscar tossed the failure into the crucible to melt and looked for another core but lamented that he had run out.

"Hopefully, this is enough." Oscar gripped the success from his first attempt. He was relieved he succeeded at least once; otherwise, it would have been a disaster if he couldn't create an armament after his initial successes with refinement. The time ticked down until it struck zero and the elder announced for all to stop their hammers and present their best.

The ten fabricators, including Oscar, lined up with spears in hand.

The elder pointed to a stone block with four holes in it. "The top four will have their spears lined on the stone. The order of placement is from left to right. Present your spears."

Oscar and the others held out their crafted spears. They waited for the elder's judgement.

The elder took the first person's spear and placed it on the rightmost spot. Then he took a second person's spear and shifted the first over for it to take its spot. Evidently, this spear was better than the previous person's.

The formation determined how well the spear would hold together. It was an integral part of what made an armament. The better the formation, the longer the spear would last, and its qualities would be more accented.

The elder took Oscar's spear and glanced at it. He placed it on the third spot from the right.

Oscar gulped, seeing his hard work in third place. He could only hope that the next ones wouldn't be as good, but he saw six others waiting for their assessment.

The tension elevated. The elder didn't place a fabricator's spear on the stone, leaving them saddened. The next one shifted everyone down a spot as it took first place, pushing Oscar down to the fourth place.

"Damn." Oscar stared at his spear, which was still on the stone. There were still three others to judge.

Then the elder appraised the next spear. To Oscar's pained expression, the elder replaced his spear with that one, meaning Oscar was no longer in the top four and unable to move onward. The elder moved onto the last two but shook his head as they were not on par with the four on the stone.

"The four whose spears have been chosen. Step toward me. You are the winners of Block B. The rest of you have done well, but they were better." The elder declared.

Oscar's shoulders dropped as he let out a dejected sigh. Seeing the four others stand with the elder made him feel a tightness in his chest; the uncomfortable reality hit him. "I couldn't quite make it."

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