The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

When his words reached the enemy below, their reaction was the opposite of what Demon expected of them. Their quivering shoulders stilled and broadened, stoic and wide like statues, and their faces hardened into steely focus, eyes narrowing and locking onto him. The fear he saw in them was completely gone. But those expressions weren't of confidence either; they had no emotion behind their dull gazes like a dead fish's, not a vigor of life in those hazy pupils. Demon had seen this look in many others during the war in the Burning Valley, during the battles underneath Convecia City–the looks of those who had given up on surviving, driven only by the remnant instinct to take as many of the enemy with them.

"Very well. You can follow your leader to the grave." After finishing his last words, Demon flew down and bisected one of the Exalts in half, then rushed in between, showering in the blood and spilled organs, and reduced another to ash with a flaming Shattering Wave. Erden stomped in from above like a meteor and pummeled a hole in the enemy group, skewering two of them along with Willet's corpse.

Behind him, the survivors on his side shouted at the top of their lungs and joined in the battle. They fought without reservations, spilling the blood of the enemy like a group of ravenous wolves, berserkers that hacked any person standing in their way into pieces. Drinking another elixir, Demon stood and watched them continue their slaughter until the enemy was vanquished. They all turned to him, covered from head to toe in blood, and raised their weapons and anima up and down. Their cries and grunts rose in intervals like the slow beating of a drum, slow and powerful, one victory chant after another accompanied by the endless gunfire around them.

"Take the Vorpalare. Secure the ship." He relayed one final order, and they rushed into the scarlet vessel to slaughter the rest of the crew inside and gain control. He looted the space pockets and possessions of all the slain enemies. From a single wave of his hand, the corpses burned into ashes, leaving their bright cores for Erden to feast upon. Seeing Erden munch down on their corpses, Demon almost reached out his hand to grab one but thought better of it. Oscar had rejected this method and called it the way of the Depraved.

The Depraved were Exalts who utilized the cores of other humans in alchemy and fabrication, creating dark elixirs and armaments from the flesh, blood, and bones of others. They became cursed creations at the hands of the vilest and depraved people, much like the New Dawn and their Reis Cores made from the bodies of Reis users. Demon couldn't understand Oscar's misgivings. After all, they ate and consumed the cores of Exalts Beasts, using them to create weapons and elixirs. What difference did it make if it was another human?

Forget it…Demon shook his head and decided to follow Oscar's wishes for now. Their progress wouldn't be stopped by refusing to consume these cores. And occasionally, he had to indulge in Oscar's rules, or else he'd be ostracized. He snapped his fingers at Erden, currently bulging cheeks like a chipmunk, a gluttonous moron, and pointed toward the other fleet nearby.

Without saying a word, Demon leaped into the next battlefield, still having ample time in his Guise to keep fighting. He and Erden burst into the currently ongoing battle. With fire and metal, flames and gold, Demon coordinated with Erden to devastate the enemy from behind. Many fell under his blows. One cried out for their lord, whoever that was, and Demon crushed his head within his hands to silence the annoying cries. Satisfied by the silence from the headless corpse, Demon directed the survivors to take the Vorpalare.

He carried onto the other two battlefields, hearing the same cries for their lord, and shut their mouths. A wave of cool water spread along his burns, slowly reversing the blackened burns into healthy skin. It came from the girl Susan, her hands holding the staff and quivering. She finally stopped after his wounds healed and nearly fell from exhaustion if not for Uren holding her up.

"Is it over?" Susan sounded weak.

"It is. Salvage what we can." Demon ordered and flew away. He reentered Garantulem through an open hatch and hurried to the main bridge. Reaching out his hand to the orb, he reformed the link and commanded Garantulem to stop firing and return to its original form. Outside, the arches of ships retracted, reconnecting to others until they reformed into a sphere. The barrier returned, staring from a faint wisp of Ein that expanded into ripples until it spread to the other side of Garantulem.

He could feel the enemy Marshal Exalts scrambling to escape. The cheers from outside tremored through the metal halls, followed by Reni's rallying cry, her presence reaching everywhere to let all know about their victory. Demon couldn't care less about the others and entered his room, locking the door for some quiet. He replayed the battle against Willet in his mind, thinking about how it could have gone better without being severely injured.

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A few minutes later, he sighed and cracked his shoulders. Oscar was starting to awaken in the inner world. He had to relinquish control to him soon, so he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes to retreat within.

…….

"Damned hypnosis…" The haze finally lifted, and Oscar found himself staring at the familiar metal ceiling of his room. He had tried his best to break through the illusion, but Willet's spell was more complex than he had thought. If Demon had not been there, he would have been…he stopped his mind from spiraling into that pit of what if. Demon's strength was his strength and an advantage. He didn't think he was weaker because he sometimes had to rely on Demon.

He got off the bed and poured himself a cup of water. His tired body hungered for more, so he feasted on his rations of meat, devouring them without reserve as oil dripped down his wrists.

'Erden, are you alright?' Oscar asked through a mental transmission.

'Injured here and there, but overall, I'm good. A Grade Eight Meld was more troubling than we had thought.' Erden responded.

'It was a mistake to avoid using fire spells to hide my power. I should use both elements from the start if I run into another enemy like him.' Oscar finished his meal with a satisfied burp and started to wash his body in the bathroom.

'The attention of using two elements will not favor us.' Demon interjected. 'But if it's for our survival, use it without fear.'

'Hard to tell when to use it or not.' Oscar pondered under the streams of hot water passing through his sweat-ridden and bloodied body. 'If the New Dawn has anyone in Grade Eight with a Reis Core or a natural like Adam, we might be in trouble. Worse if there's a Grade Nine. The chances of that are slim but can't be ignored.'

'We need to achieve the Integration stage.' Erden said from outside the bathroom. 'Who knows how your anima will react when integrating into you? You carry a part of me within you. Our Meld is already more powerful than the norm.'

'Or reach the Marshal Exalt realm, but I'm still far from that.' Oscar dried himself and put on his wedding ring from his space pocket, having taken it off in times of battle to avoid any damage. The golden diamond reminded him of Avril's gleaming golden eyes as if she were here right now, smiling at him. He kissed the ring lovingly and wore his spare armor and robes to hide his face.

Moments later, he entered the main bridge. Fierce applause and cheers resounded at his arrival. The citizens raised their cups to him, the children sang songs of heroism, the Exalts chanted in the drums of victory again, and even the Marshal Exalts laughed and cheered out for their shipmaster. If not for his previous experience as the ruler of the Burning Valley, he would have been overwhelmed by their praises, and now he waved his hand around and simply waited for them to get their delight and joy of victory out until they settled down.

The Marshal Exalts ordered everyone to return to their stations and led Oscar into a private room.

"Shipmaster, I didn't think you had the power to kill a Grade Eight. Not just a Grade Eight, but also a member of the Claude Family." Hugh coughed out his words, his smile wrinkling his cheeks and brow like a squeezed towel.

"Young Susan did right by bringing you to me. Your identity may still be uncertain, but we all accept you." Elias smiled and placed his hand over Oscar's shoulder in a warm, welcoming gesture.

"If only we, three failures, could match up to your achievements. We couldn't kill a single Marshal Exalt during this fight. Those bastards are as slippery as ever." Reni stomped his foot, clearly angered. "We were of no use other than being there to block them."

"And that was enough. Those Marshal Exalts are specialized in being defensive and evasive, just the kind to hold a city hostage." Oscar removed his helmet and ran his hand through his short hair. He looked out the closed door where celebrations rang through. He pursed his lips and asked, "How much did we lose?"

Hugh furrowed his wrinkled brow and said, "Around two hundred. The losses would have been far more severe without Garantulem's constant firing. But they are still our losses."

Solemn silence filled the room, and Oscar closed his eyes to pray for the lost souls. To whom he did not know, a Primare? The heavens? The mythical Gods above? Whoever it was, he hoped they would care for the lost. After finishing his moment of silence and prayer, Oscar asked, "Did we secure the Vorpalares?"

"All four are accounted for. They only need a slight touch-up. We also salvaged a lot of the remains of the enemy's fleet. Why? Do you have an idea?" Elias asked.

"Garantulem is also at its last legs. Soon it will fall apart. The last battle must be the one to create our passage through the frontlines." Oscar patted the wall and tapped it like a child's head.

"From this defeat, the enemy will take us far more seriously. I wouldn't be surprised if they send out a more powerful fleet." Reni said, staring at the map of the continent.

"Exactly. But let's take the fight closer." Oscar pointed at an open plain before a familiar location, the Spiraling Willow Forest, where he first met Abe and freed Frederick. The borders were sprawled in the forest.

"Using the Vorpalares?" Hugh opened his eyes.

"They're perfect. They just need a slight modification." Oscar grinned. He thanked Willet for bringing him the perfect weapons to return home. "Give me a month, and we'll be home."

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