The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Serit blinked once, clearly in shock. "An eternal core? That's–"

"Impossible?" Oscar finished Serit's sentence. The disbelief was understandable, considering the implications. Seeing Serit speechless and wide-eyed, Oscar recalled how he reacted the same way when Gol-4 told him. He could hear the golem's mechanical laughter echoing in his mind as if enjoying one final prank. The cold breeze swept over, diminishing the fires into a faint light. Oscar built up heat in his palms and burst flames, rousing the fires to roar and blaze. "What do you know about artificial cores, the kind we make for golems?"

"Only the basics," Serit replied. "Alchemists must create the artificial cores while the fabricators mold the body."

"Right. Golems store a fixed amount of Ein within their cores, limiting their activities. Usually, golems return to a place where someone would refill the lost Ein, or some can naturally restore Ein by themselves, though quite slow and inefficient. Another method is for golems to share their Ein with another." Oscar glanced at the devastation wrought by the titan, a pathway of flattened mountains reaching the horizon. The golems he fought earlier near the statue had given up their remaining Ein to awaken the titan prematurely. He turned back to Serit, who listened like a student in a class. "Adventi is an eternal artificial core, meaning no loss of Ein."

"Lossless? How is that possible? No matter what, Ein must flow from one place to another. To be eternal means to have an infinite flow from an infinite source. Wells dry up. Rivers stop flowing. If the source is used up, there is no Ein to flow." Serit retorted.

"I thought so, too. In his own words, he said eternal, but really, it's a source that could last for many thousands of years. Imagine a golem fighting without rest for that long. With a powerful body, it'll be the strength of an entire continent in one." Oscar grumbled, cursing Gol-4 under his breath. "But the original intent was not for war. He wished for it to be used as an artificial font of Ein, capable of powering barriers not just for cities that enjoyed the luxury alone but for towns and villages left to fend for themselves. He came up with other inventions for transportation and other areas that could benefit from Adventi."

"The costs of maintaining airships and barriers would plummet. You'd destroy entire fields of work based on how cheap it would become. You can bring warmth to an entire continent in the dead of winter." Serit sighed. "Tell me no more. I understand. It can be the core of a powerful weapon, golem, or barrier. If the output of its Ein reaches a certain level, even Primaeres will be stuck against it." He fell silent again, presumably stewing over the countless applications of Adventi.

"I can't create it. It'd require an alchemist and fabricator on the Primaere realm." Oscar closed his eyes. "It's better for Adventi to remain a secret and hidden from all. After all, it may never be used for what was intended of it." Indeed, it should remain buried. He had burned the book and hid it away deep in his memories. Oscar stood up and bid the speechless Serit farewell, rejoining his group on the other side of the snow peak. He had been through so much today; he was utterly exhausted and rested on a cold yet soft bed of snow, not minding the freezing tingling on his back, somewhat soothing right now. Astrid, Fenu, Gnar, and others also turned in for the night.

Several hours later, Oscar woke up, and a brilliant blue sky greeted him in the morning. There was not a single cloud in sight or a snowflake fluttering down. The air was clear and unblemished, the storms gone and finished, a rare occurrence for this tundra. Oscar rose from his makeshift bed and shook the snow off his clothes. Oddly, the winds stilled, and not a single breeze passed. It was a quiet day today, quite unsettling, in his opinion. When had he ever received a quiet day?

He glanced over the horizon and darted his eyes up the great statue beside him. While he hadn't expected golems to appear and attack him, and then the emergence of the titan, Oscar felt the need to finish what he had come here for. Clenching his fists, he strode to the foot where the ankle connected to the leg, exhaling a large puff of white breath as his body warmed from his rising Reis. In a series of haymakers, Oscar shoved his wide swings in a violent assault on the arrogant statues, a slight satisfaction creeping a smile on his face. Like a horrid morning bell, the stone rang and rang as his fists, full of Shattering Waves, spread cracks like spiderwebs.

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Oscar punched forward in a thunderous call, stone breaking off the statue's leg, cracks riddling all over its body. It gave in and collapsed in a tide of stone and dust, leaving a mound where the head rested on top. Coincidentally, the eyes met Oscar as if staring at him before a loud crack resounded, and the head split in two. Heat welled in his chest, so hot as if magma pumped from his heart, hotter than the Burning Valley itself. Ignyres was too delighted and cheered too heartily that his flames engulfed Oscar's inner world.

Many might wish for an Ancient's favor, but not Oscar. He had enough of the Ancient of Fire's antics. Spurred by the endless urgings from the irritating Ancient, Oscar led his people down the mountain, joined by Serit and his men. He nodded to Serit, who nodded back. After a few hours, they reached the second peak where the last statue stood. Oscar peeked at the demolished third mountain, the unfortunate one in the titan's destructive path. While he wished to hide away peacefully until the end, he couldn't allow such a dangerous element to roam free without a plan. He needed Helen or Avril, the two alchemists he trusted most.

The second statue fell and tumbled down the slopes from another powerful onslaught of Reis, with no traps activating. Rubbing his bruised knuckles, Oscar rested on a large chunk fallen off the statue, eyeing the dark tower in the far distance. Before, with the snow and the storms, it was shrouded, but it revealed itself to him on this clear, bright day. Impressive as always, the dark tower ascended to heights unknown. It reached incredible widths that made it appear closer like a neighborhood house despite the far distance of several continents separating them.

"By my estimates, it'll take several more years, seven in fact, to reach the eleventh land. Once there, we can find our wives." Serit sat beside him. "You still haven't told me how you met her. As brother-in-laws, we should share a bit more."

"What, that's not in your intel?" Oscar couldn't help but notice the group somehow getting along. A few laughs and casual conversations were heard here and there, though none approached Astrid, who watched them with an icy gaze. He commended the Defiants' agents for their ability to integrate into other groups. Back to Serit, he smiled, "Not much to say, really. Upon leaving Ashen Grove, I fell into a piece of land in Shattirma, where I met her."

"Let me guess, it was the eyes. That's how I got trapped." Serit patted Oscar's back. "Now I'm stuck with her forever, not that I'm complaining."

Was it a ploy or a genuine attempt to connect? Oscar didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care. But his words resonated with him. The first moment he met Avril in the dark forest when she covered herself with a hood until he coaxed her into coming out with some fruit, Oscar was mesmerized by her golden pupil, his eyes unable to peer away from it. He leaned back and enjoyed the light of the orb spilling over the land. "Not at first. But indeed, they are beautiful eyes. The kind that I lost myself in many times."

"Right? They're a pair of bewitching sisters." Serit laughed. "Well, my brother-in-law, where shall we go? My men and I are bound to listen to your orders."

"We head straight for the eleventh land. Any ruins or structures are useless to us. I have a connection to my partner beast in another land, so we can cover more ground and gather up our forces." Oscar leaped off the stone and cracked his neck. "Our priority is to find our people."

'Where are you, Avril?' Oscar led the march, and onward they traveled through ice and snow, passing by the great chasms where winds howled. He never let the dark tower leave his sight, certain his wife would meet him there.

…….

'Must reach successor…' It stomped ahead, quaking the earth beneath its armored greaves. It cared not for the screams of the people below, their spells plinking on his thick armor. It found a mountain in its path but carried on, smashing its body against the slope and breaking a path through, the mountain collapsing beneath it.

'Ein low.' It read the remaining Ein left in its core and knew its end was near. An inevitable conclusion. All golems like itself couldn't last forever. But it couldn't rest before its duty was fulfilled. The charge given to it long ago by its benevolent creators spurred it onward, crushing more of the arrogant, inferior beings under its weighty steps. None of them compared to its creators. It glared forward with red eyes, sweeping across the tundra. 'Caerulumen. Masters. I will reach the successor. My mission will be accomplished.'

It silenced more of the cries below. It had to finish what it was born to do.

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