The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

When was the last time he had a moment of peace? The past few days in the wastelands of Orbis felt like several years had gone by. The embers from the firepit rose and mingled with the stars above, flickering until vanishing into the night. A clear starry sky welcomed his gaze, but he turned away, twisting a branch into half and tossing the pieces to fuel the fires. A low sigh escaped his cracked lips. He leaned his head against a stone and watched the two children, Renn and Gloria, fast asleep in comfortable fur patches, their slight snores shaking the flames.

Sensing someone approaching, Oscar warned, "They're sleeping."

The steps slowed and landed on the ground softly, barely audible even in the silent night. Alec revealed himself and entered the illuminated area, brushing off his hair. He formed a small smile at the two children and bowed to Oscar. "We scavenged what we could from the wrecked Excrusier. The beasts ravaged its supplies, and the crew is all dead. I have people canvassing for anything else. However, there's been nothing so far. For good measure, I ordered to disable most of its functions. The enemy won't be able to get it operational so easily."

"Good. It's a few days journey to Greenwich City. The princess and her group must have already pulled out. At dawn, we make haste due north. Since there's no telling what may await us, divide the rest of the rations to the survivors." Oscar stoked the flames. A burst of smoke and embers blew upward as the flames intensified. Amid the crackling of the firewood, Oscar spoke clearly, "We lost in this battle, but the war isn't over yet. We still have a chance, understand?"

"I do." Alec rose to his feet and turned away, stopping near the children. "It'll be dangerous for them. Should I let them…."

"Hold your tongue, strategist." Oscar cut off Alec before he could finish speaking out the vile suggestion. His feet bashed against the stone rubble, crushing them under their soles. A shadow loomed over Alec, the flames burning behind Oscar's towering figure as he glared deeply down at the strategist. The two children remained asleep, good that they were so tired so as not to witness his terror. "Suggest it again, and I will cut you down myself."

"I understand. I do." Alec didn't flinch at all. "War orphans rarely live well enough to make their survival worthwhile." After a brief exchange between their eyes, Alec backed down and sighed while leaving, "I will get updates from our patrols. Rest well."

Oscar retracted his anger and sat down, detaching his artificial arm. The damage reached beyond his means to fix at this moment, the strength of the three-headed hybrid truly horrifying and shown in the devastated plating, nearly squashed. He needed a proper forge and more materials. But there was no time, and Erden needed all of his strength. Putting it away in his space pocket, Oscar leaned his head against the large rubble, finding no peace in the starry scenery.

…….

The next morning saw the arrival of two suns finally starting their course, unobscured by dark clouds, a path of blue sky beckoning them onward. Oscar carried the drowsy children and mounted Erden, resting them in front to lean their little heads against him. At his call, the full force of the survivors gathered around him. Thirty Black Aegis Legion soldiers formed the left wing, including Emily, Fred, Alec, Uren, Susan, and Esther. When they found Esther earlier, Susan and Uren refused to let go of her, which brought laughter to the dreary air. Twenty Drakiri and ten members of General Krauss's personal troops acted as his right wing. Behind him, the rest, around forty strong of several different groups, acted as the rearguard.

Disappointed, he had hoped to find more, but none of the ground troops of Elite Exalts and below seemed to have survived, and time was not on their side. Enemies could be anywhere, already encircling them, as Alec predicted. Oscar reached the front, acting as the spearhead of the arrow formation, and addressed everyone. "Everyone, we lost here. We failed in Orbis. But redemption awaits us all. The next battle is just ahead. Harden yourselves and never falter. No rest until we reach the city. Our loss here will be avenged!"

Fred raised his sword and shouted. Emily did the same with her staff. One by one, all of the survivors shouted out in rousing chants, beating their chests and holding their weapons to the heavens. Oscar gave the order, and one hundred Knight Exalts set out for Greenwich City, their numbers a mere pebble before the enemy's might. Still, their courage and vigor surpassed the likes of a thousand, and that was enough for Oscar.

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The children woke up and began to bawl. Flustered, Oscar explained they were heading to safety and to wait patiently. Renn glared at Oscar and hugged Gloria tightly while clenching Erden's fur, causing a slight minor discomfort to his friend. Oscar was serious when he said there would be no rest. Day passed to night, and night bent over for the dawn. Oscar fed the children regularly for the few days, keeping their spirits high by reciting some stories he had read, and Fred joined in with some jokes to brighten their mood.

Four days later, Alec moved up to the front to speak, "We just passed through the Lumen River. Greenwich City will be within a few hours."

Suddenly, he saw smoke rising from the nearby regions. He identified it immediately as smoke from a fire, the sheer volume suggesting he was gazing at the great inferno. Oscar clenched his teeth, his face paling to an icy white, and a chill swallowed his heart. That direction…he knew that direction, having committed everything in this region to his memory so he would never lose track and forget. A comforting hand clasped him, and in two, they gripped. Fred and Emily were by his side, shoulder to shoulder.

"Take the children and run to Greenwich City. I have to go." Oscar removed their hands, but they stopped him.

"We're coming with you. It's just a little detour." Fred grimaced.

There was no time to argue, so he let them follow. Tears already spilled from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks in droves before he reached his former home. No matter how many times he tried to wipe them, more poured out, and his mind froze as Erden halted. The once great fields of golden grains now became a hellish field of magma, growing nothing but plumes of smoke and ash. Trees screamed in crackles of wood as fires erupted from inside their bark, the same ones he enjoyed venturing around when he lived here long ago.

The same hill where he loved to read his book with the approaching dawn was now nowhere, sunken to the magma. And his home….the roof caved in as the support beams burned to a crisp, unable to hold up the ceiling. Flames hissed and then roared in a crash of dust and rubble, removing every last trace of his former house, not even a part of the creaky old floor. Oscar got off Erden and rushed down, hovering over the burning plains.

Oscar pounded his fist on the burning plains, his flames swallowing everything. Finding no target to set his enraged flames on, he roared to the sky and unleashed the fire to rise above, aimed at the two suns. A cracked, charred land rested where his home once was. Nothing could be saved because there was nothing to save. Nothing remained in the wake of all this destruction.

"Uncle Carlson!" Oscar shouted, flying with all his might. In a few seconds, he reached the Thorn Family's farm and stammered out an incoherent sob at the burning fields. His uncle had to be alive. Holding onto that hope, Oscar rushed to the house and swallowed the flames. A body lay on the floor, one he immediately recognized. He cried out, "Uncle Carlson!"

Gently, through tear-ridden eyes, he turned the body. Uncle Carlson wheezed and coughed out blood, his eyes, which were dimming, suddenly gaining a bit of clarity, wobbly as they focused on him. The old man with the ragged beard and gray hair gasped, "O-Oscar? Why…are you…here?"

"Don't talk, Uncle Carlson. I got you. I can save you." Oscar rummaged inside his space pocket for an elixir, but Uncle Carlson grabbed his wrist, a pair of wrinkly hands grabbing his face. Their gentle warmth matched the smile on the elder's face. More tears streamed from his eyes, flowing endlessly along Uncle Carlson's hands. "I can save you. We have a healer. She can heal this."

His uncle suffered grievous wounds. The stomach had been cut and split open, intestines crawling out and bleeding out rivers of blood. At a certain point, not even elixirs or spells could heal the wounded who knew no future other than death.

"There's not much left of me to save." Uncle Carlson breathed weakly in his arm. He called out in almost a delirious chant, "Oscar. Oscar. Oscar."

"I'm here. I'm here. I'm here." Oscar responded to each one.

"Thank you…for keeping me company…Thank you…for coming back alive…I thought I was alone…Thank you…." Uncle Carlson shuddered, hyperventilating. Oscar clutched his uncle's hands, trying to rouse an ounce of strength from the old body. The weight was akin to the child, Renn's. Since when did Uncle Carlson become so weak and so skinny? Oscar hugged him tightly, careful not to aggravate the pain.

Uncle Carlson whispered in short, ragged breaths, "I wish…I could have seen…Isabella, one…last…time." The body finally gave in and succumbed to death's call. His hands slipped down Oscar's face and dropped to the floor, covered in his tears.

Oscar rested his uncle's body on the floor before setting it ablaze, turning it into ashes instantly. He gathered them all into a small sack and stored it away. Oscar wanted to stop crying, but the tears, they wouldn't listen. Closing his eyes, he failed to block them as the tears wrenched open his eyelids like a flood through a weak dam. It hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt to the point he wished he no longer had a heart that forced him to feel such agony.

He pounded on the floor, his knuckles breaking apart the old floor he used to wander around in his childhood with Isabella under Uncle Carlson's smiling gaze. Screaming to the top of his lungs, he hammered down until the house collapsed on top of him. He made another heartwrenching cry, blasting the wreckage away, sobbing uncontrollably.

Oscar placed his helmet on his head, masking his tears, which still flowed endlessly. Labored breathing grunted out of the helmet. Clenching his fists, he stared toward the direction of Greenwich City. "They'll pay for this. All of them will pay."

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