The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Demon wore a simple white shirt and black pants on his way to see the others gathered on Oldeye Island, his helmet still attached to his neck. The time for hiding behind his armor and helmet was soon to be over, odd after decades of wearing it. The Primaere's protection meant no more cowering, and Oscar's hopeful return meant the end of his moment at the forefront. Only the darkness of the inner world awaited him afterward. He didn't care. If Oscar could survive, then it was enough. He had no desire other than that.

Waves crashed onto the shores of the gulf and the rocky cliffs of Oldeye Island, the waters knowing to part to reach all shorelines. Demon passed over the cliffs, overlooking the beginnings of a wall, its bare wooden frame standing flimsy against the wracking winds. The men carried stone blocks that were cut cleanly without a single groove or bump and transported from other continents, courtesy of Carcoatl. They layered the blocks one by one, slathering them in a binding mortar, the weak frame now hardened by stone to weather the fierce elements.

The junkyard had been cleared and turned into scraps for constructing the new academy that Carcoatl proposed, the old and ruined feeding into the new order. The ground was surprisingly clean and freshly paved, beds of grass already filling in the open spaces. Deeper inside, the workers hammered on metal plates, their beating reaching even him in the air and thumping across his veins. Dozens of new buildings, still incomplete like the wall, were in progress. To undertake this endeavor required far more gold than he could collect in a hundred years, the resources of a Primaere far deeper than he knew.

No guards patrolled the island because there was no need since the Primaere swore to protect it, and no fool dared to cross him. Reaching the temporary headquarters, a large white tent fit for royalty, Demon descended and entered, everyone inside rising to their feet and bowing. Marcus, Eve, Santen, Kragg, Restel, Auren, and Astrid stayed quiet as he took the chair at the head of the table. He gestured for them to be at ease, and they complied.

"Auren," Demon addressed the brown-hair, brown-eyed man, the youngest of the group. "Is it hard to create a formation around Oldeye Island?"

Auren averted his gaze in a fit of nervousness. "We have the core needed to power the formation, but…Ein is everywhere in our world. Cities rest on concentrated veins of Ein that act as a conduit for the barrier. There is none on this island, my Lord. Forgive me!" He clapped once and lowered his head in a desperate plea.

"The fault is not your own. The problem is this poor land. But Carcoatl will provide the seed of a Divine Essence. Is that enough to solve your problem?" Demon said. Once fully grown, Divine Essences had the power to produce a seed that could grow into a new Divine Essence, but it took a mind-numbingly long amount of time and chance. To receive it freely was a charity he felt was impossible to repay to be on even grounds. 'Oscar will probably accept the responsibility.' He thought.

"That will be incredible!" Auren nearly sang his words. He moved fast, taking out a paper and pen, already drawing up a complex formation, adding more papers to layer on the base formation, his hands too fast for normal eyes to pick up. He seemed to remember where he was and begged forgiveness, ears red as was his sign of embarrassment. Kragg smacked the top of his head, rebuking him for his mistake, garnering a few hostile gazes from Santen and Marcus. Astrid sneered and prepared to subdue the fierce lion.

Demon pounded his fist on the table like a gavel from a harsh judge, wondering how they still kept this unruly behavior after decades together. They all calmed down and froze in their seats, clamping their mouths shut. Having a moment of silence, Demon started at Marcus and went around the table, ending on Astrid. Trust was cheap, but their loyalty was true. He made his choice and reached for his helmet, holding it by the sides. Everyone drew in a deep breath, eyes slowly widening as he lifted the helmet and revealed his face.

"Huh? Lordy isn't disfigured at all. I was wrong." Kragg said dryly, brash as always. He didn't hide his emotions and chortled, showing his retracted fangs. Restel stammered out apologies on his behalf next to him.

"Don't insult our Lord, Kragg!" Marcus scolded, tying his blonde hair back.

"I didn't insult him, little lizard. How is saying he's not disfigured an insult? That's a compliment." Kragg leaned forward in a threatening posture, his fangs slightly protruding. He looked back at Restel, who covered her mouth, stopping the neverending apologies.

"Enough, you two. Our Lord has finally revealed his appearance to us, and you can only squabble." Santen droned out his words, low and slow. "Where's the respect?"

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Demon waited for them to settle down after a short exchange of insults. Eve and Restel managed to calm Marcus and Kragg as Astrid snickered from the sides, not helpful in quashing their rage. Once all became silent, Demon spoke shortly about his past, speaking of war but not when and where and speaking of a tremendous loss but not who or what. He kept the details a secret. "I am that person and not at the same time. I'm a mere echo, still fighting. The true me is not awake."

"Are you real?" Auren asked, the fear gone and replaced by curiosity.

"I'm real in a sense. But my real self needs to awaken, or everything I have done will be for naught. For too many years, he has slept. I must awaken him; to do that, I need to go to his wife. She is the only real attachment left." Demon said.

"Will…will we be disbanded?" Eve mumbled out, dropping her head.

"Before, when I freed you all from your bonds, I said that if any wished to leave and live a different life, you were free to do so. That also applies to me, or rather to me inside. I promised a life of revenge, and you will be free to use all the resources provided by Carcoatl." Finished, Demon rose to his feet and put on his helmet, wearing the armor for probably the last time.

"My Lord!" Astrid shouted from behind. He turned to her, and she clenched her teeth, trembling from either frustration or sadness. He couldn't tell. Astrid shouted, "Didn't you want to kill all of them? The New Dawn ruined everything, all of our lives! Why will you give that up?"

"I did think that. When I first set out, I wanted to spill all guilty blood. But I exist for survival, and there is no survival if it isn't Oscar. It is what I must do." Demon declared. Yes, his priority had never changed. It was always for Oscar's survival, not his or anyone else's, but Oscar's. The sunlight poured through the gap he created by lifting a part of the tent's curtain door. "Marcus, Kragg, Santen, Restel. You will accompany me. The rest focus on defending the island."

"My Lord!" Astrid still shouted, her voice cracking at the end. Did she feel horrible at being left out or that he might not be here anymore?

Demon ignored her and stepped outside, seeing Helen and Hector waiting for him. The others exited after him, and all nodded to each other, understanding the journey may be far more treacherous than they realized—two Greater Marshal Exalts, four Middle Marshal Exalts, and one noncombatant Middle Marshal Exalt was not an ordinary force for a simple trip. Demon led the group to the precipice where the Togros Clan attacked, a small airship currently docking on the cliff, its rear engines humming softly. Sqaurmo, the Tricrown King Exalt, raised his limp body to stand, his robes and long black hair fluttering to the breeze as a yawn escaped his mouth.

"Welcome. Welcome." Squarmo repeated himself in a fit of drowsiness, his eyes still closed. "We're off to…Rusk Continent, right? But we don't have to land on it directly. Get close enough, and I can snap you across."

"Is the enemy already aware?" Demon already unsheathed his sword.

"If any had any senses, they will suspect. Thread from Isaac to my ancestor to me maybe what they read." Squarmo squirmed his lips, groaning. "But don't worry. I am here."

"He doesn't seem so promising…." Hector whispered to Helen, but within earshot of everyone. He shut his mouth and shivered in fear when Sqaurmo placed his face an inch away from Hector. He scampered up the stairs, scolded by Helen along the way. As usual, the old couple never ran out of things to quarrel about, a waste of valuable time that could be spent on working. Demon never knew when they didn't argue.

Glancing around the island once last time, he boarded the airship, immediately feeling the ascend in the trembling under his feet, the engines humming turned to roars, then silence. The airship was a special stealth type that made no sounds, useless in full-scale wars but useful in roaming alone. He placed his hand over the image of a stone mountain, a symbol of the Divine Stone Clan. Did this airship come from that rambling head?

"My ancestor and Isaac became friends of the same generation of Primaeres. All our airships bear the mark of the Divine Stone Clan after their fall in remembrance of them." Squarmo noticed him and answered his wordless question. He gazed with closed eyes at the passing clouds as if peering past the veil of the blue sky. "After thousands of years, the inheritor meets the friend. Will it be another tragedy? Or closure? The world is funny like that."

Not wanting to engage in conversation, Demon gathered his men and gave them all elixirs of their elemental Ein. The enemy could lurk closer any moment, and every second counted in their survival. Restel entered Kragg's shadow and writhed around before settling down. Marcus and Santen each took one end of the airship, acting as the guards for each side. Demon waited beside Hector and Helen, spending several hours in training.

Suddenly, a strange wave of Ein rippled in the air like a heatwave, and Demon snapped out of his meditation, his instincts picking up on an encroaching danger. Everyone stood and converged in the same spot on the deck, back-to-back. Squarmo floated above, sighing once, an act that cleared the clouds and calmed the ocean below. A Tricrown King Exalt was indeed a powerful existence.

"Why come all this way to cause trouble?" Sqaurmo asked to the empty sky. "Do you wish for a war?"

"Is the inheritor of Isaac worth dying for?" A voice replied, causing the winds to pick back up and the oceans to churn, directly contradicting Squarmo's calming effect. "My master wishes to meet him."

"Isn't the inheritor dead?" Squarmo smiled. "Sorry. You've come all this way for nothing."

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