The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Act 2: World Beyond - Chapter 412: Old Yule's Therapy

Dense mists shrouded the skies and surfaces one would not be able to see an inch from their eyes. The ocean lay deathly still, not a single ripple or passing wave. Within this dense fog and sailing above the still waters, a ruined ship floated around, a lack of sails and the rotten state of its decks suggesting it was abandoned.

"So, an executive has died. How saddening. What a waste of a useful man. He held such promise for the dawn of new humanity." A shadow appeared within the mist, hidden from others. Her voice trembled, evidently sorrowful for some reason. "Is it true?"

"If it wasn't true, I would be a liar, and do you believe I am? I never lie." Another shadow roamed in the mists. Only his steps were heard on the ship's deck, one creaking step after another. "Truth is the most valuable virtue. As the seekers of a higher form, we should embody that ideal, unlike your fake tears."

"W-what do you mean? I am in mourning." The womanly shadow wept. "The loss weighs heavily on my heart. Not that you would understand since you don't have a heart."

"I hate you. If not for your loyalty to the leader, I would have killed you a long time ago." The other shadow said plainly. "Perhaps I should go ask for permission from him. Your death is long overdue. You glib tongue vixen."

Before the two shadows could close in on each other, a third appeared in the middle and shouted, "Enough! You bring shame to the New Dawn and our leader. Mars is dead. That is a fact. He died in his post at Shattirma."

"Shattirma…that place of antiquity is still full of dangers. I warned the leader a while ago that setting up bases there would only complicate our work. Now we have a dead executive. Do we know who killed him?"

"Ah, poor souls of the ones who slighted us. They will endure so much agony from now on. May Mar's soul be appeased with their heart-wrenching cries."

"That's where it gets difficult. From Mar's last report, he visited a remote part of Shattirma named the Burning Valley. For an odd reason, no messages or recordings have reached us ever since."

"So, the perpetrators are unknown. Do we send a force to the Burning Valley?" The male shadow asked.

"Our leader says to forget it. He can't be bothered with a failed branch. Most of the research there yielded no results anyway. Their main use was smuggling people to other facilities. Instead, warn all branches to increase their vigilance. I'll inform the absent executives." The third shadow sighed, grumbling about the lack of urgency from the absentees.

"Right. Right. What was the main purpose of that branch again?" The womanly shadow pondered. "Ah! It was elementification. They never once succeeded with that using any of the natural elements. Unlike my sweet, dear tree dwellers."

"Those are failures as well. Nothing but a mass of mindless puppets. Nothing close to the ideal we seek." The other shadow said coldly. The womanly shadow chuckled and raised her arms.

"Enough! The two of you continue your work. Disperse at once." The last shadow shook his head. The three shadows disappeared from the ship. Mists rolled around, and the ocean remained still. The ship continued sailing to parts unknown.

…….

'Damn…' Oscar thought as he flew across the room. His body crashed and broke past several pillars of ash corpses, and he rolled on the floor before Erden reached to stop him. The ringing in his ears failed to dampen the ferocious roar of the ash humanoid. Staring at the creature, Oscar rose and grunted as he cracked his dislocated shoulder back in.

He gripped his shaking fingers, wrapped in Pseudo-Guise. The creature's power at the Greater Knight Exalt realm surpassed anything he tried to do. The wounds he dealt to the creature paled compared to his ragged body. It was like trying to escape quicksand, and every inch he gained set him back several more. His invisible Reis movements and switches with Demon made it possible for him to keep fighting for so long.

Yet, despite this huge difference, Oscar sensed something off about the creature. The creature moved swiftly at times but then shifted to a crawl as if holding back. Oscar smacked his bloody lips as the strange feeling persisted. The creature charged and slammed its hands on the floor. One gray earthen spike stabbed out, and then another, and more. Soon, the spikes encompassed the entire room, even on the pillars where they destroyed all the remaining corpses.

An ash cloud or fog filled the room. Oscar, dodging in midair, decided enough was enough. Entering the Guise, Oscar and Erden became shining blue stars within this bleak ash wasteland. Power coursed through him, but it was limited. He only had ten minutes to settle this or else fall and die.

Landing on an earthen spike, Oscar used Ripple Shroud and Shattering Wave, filled with Eirin, and pushed away all the spikes and ash around him. Erden joined in by sending its enlarged antlers to break away everything else. He stomped his foot on the ground and raised his hand in provocation to the creature. "Come."

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The creature roared and transformed its hands into ash blades. It swung once. A slash of Ein and ash split the floor, flying across to Oscar and Erden. The damned creature had more abilities than he thought. He dodged swiftly and communicated the plan to Erden. They zipped and separated, attacking from different sides. His only gambit was to catch the creature off guard, and Oscar steeled himself for the daunting task.

…….

Avril couldn't stop crying. The chains pressing into her were terrifying. She couldn't breathe. Her body felt like it was getting colder and colder with each passing second. Not like anyone was there for her. There was only the cruel Old Yule sitting down with her notepad, watching her with those disgusting eyes.

"I said I will take you to Oscar when it's done. So answer me. Who or what do you think about when it comes to narration?" Old Yule tapped her pen on the pad, leaning in.

"My mother…my mother always told me and my sister stories, not from a book but by her memory. She spoke and acted while narrating." Avril had had enough. Full of shame, she answered Old Yule. She couldn't even move her fingers, use her eye, or even muster an argument. Not that she wanted to. She only wanted to be free of these chains and find Oscar. So, she complied.

"I see…so your self-narration might be a coping tool. What do you think of as you speak in those narrations? What feeling do you get?" Old Yule laid down her pen.

"I…I feel different, as if it's not me speaking but someone else. Like I'm not there. It gets all fuzzy….she doesn't like this. Why does she need to speak about herself to Old Yule? She just wants to go to Oscar." Avril said. She had never told anyone before, but her mind always got lightheaded whenever she narrated. It soothed her, and she felt less pain in it.

"We'll speak of him soon. So, it is a way of coping. I presume it happened as a slave. By making it seem like you weren't the one suffering but a narrator speaking of a character, you detach yourself from reality, lessening. That must have helped deal with the pain." Old Yule started to write again. She circled something and asked, "And your aversion to meat?"

Avril stared blankly. She recalled various scenes of when she was a young slave and witnessed the worst act. Unable to hold back, Avril gagged, but there was nothing to vomit. That memory stuck in her mind, no matter how often she tried to distract herself. She recalled that scene every time she glanced at a piece of meat.

"Judging from that reaction, you must have seen something far too depraved. That may be digging in too deep." Old Yule scratched her head.

Sweating profusely, Avril forcibly opened her mouth and asked, "Why are you doing this?" She didn't do anything to deserve this.

"Next question. When you fought alongside Oscar in the war on the plains, you were confident and resolved to fight. What were you thinking as you did so?" Old Yule ignored her question and asked her one.

"I wanted to fight alongside him. I didn't want to be a burden anymore. I wanted to get over it, no longer worry or cause others to worry about me. I thought it was over….I thought I could move on." Hot tears felt like magma on her cheeks. She bit her lips, ashamed of her current state, helpless and at the mercy of another. "But I'm weak. I can't do anything. I haven't changed at all. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"So why do you comfort Oscar? You helped him calm his nerves and sleep well at night. What do you want to get from that?" Old Yule stood up and came closer, her face a few inches away from Avril.

Avril thought of Oscar. Their three to four years of memories flowed through her mind, and she smiled. She adored those memories, the times they bickered, read and wrote together, trained, and talked. At least she had good memories to think of before the end. "When I first met him, he was injured and yelling with a smile. I don't know why, but I enjoy comforting him, and I enjoy it when he does the same for me."

Falling silent, Avril slowly turned her lips to a frown, and she lowered her head. "I promised I would fight with him and get to Vallen together, not be held back by my past, but in the end, I couldn't do it. I'm nothing but a failure, a slave. Here I am, still bound in chains." Her eyes no longer held any tears to cry, and she glanced at Old Yule. She wanted to see Oscar one last time before dying. "Maybe it's better this way. I'm tired."

"On the contrary, I believe you've made significant improvements." Old Yule smiled and snapped her fingers.

Everything distorted and faded into darkness. Avril realized the chains were gone and fell into the void. Not knowing what this was, she allowed herself to fall freely.

Avril felt her heartbeat and the coldness of the floor. Her eyes slowly opened, and light spilled in through the cracks. Stuck by the sudden brightness, she sat upright instantly, wondering what was happening. Thirsty for water, her lips smacked themselves.

"What is going on?" Avril's eyes wandered around, unable to see clearly from the blurriness of awakening.

"You're better." Old Yule was kneeling next to her.

"O-Old Yule?" Avril stammered through her dry lips. Oddly, the smile from Old Yule put her at ease, not the fake warm smile, but a genuine one. Confused, Avril glanced around, seeing no cages, chains, bodies, or blood.

Suddenly, a warm pair of arms embraced her and brought her close. A hand stroked her head gently. Everything was so warm. Avril was speechless, unable to process that this was coming from Old Yule.

"Poor you. You comfort others with all your heart yet keep yours somewhat closed. It's alright. These wounds take time to heal, long periods. You can't be disappointed in yourself. You've made significant progress already. You haven't fainted or had seizures from the illusions I put on you. That's an amazing recovery for someone with a past like yours." Old Yule croaked in laughter. "You are not useless; you have done well so far in your condition. Believe in yourself more."

The last few sentences rang through Avril's head. She cried again, but this time, not out of fear or sadness but of the comfort and love that those words poured into her. Her hands naturally wrapped around Old Yule and accepted the old grandma's warmth.

"Geez, you're around forty and crying like a child. Well, I suppose it's alright." Old Yule smiled brightly.

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