The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Oscar let out an irritated sigh as he gripped his trembling legs while watching his group clean up the remains of a battlefield. These past years had been very productive since he found others from Haven Academy, all loyal warriors to his banner. Currently, his group of seventy people consisted of the Togros Family, Azure Sea Company, Gnar's pack, Serit's agents, and Haven Academy. Gazing at the warriors covered in snow, Oscar couldn't help but envision them in gauzes of red, blood drenching their figures. Images of black-armored soldiers resting in pools of blood resurfaced and intruded in his thoughts.

'Not again.' Oscar clenched harder on his knees. He felt his chest congesting and held down the aching pain from escaping into groans. The sudden loss of mobility in his legs plagued him nearly every day. As sweat beaded down his pale face, Volten's warnings echoed in his mind, telling him he had to overcome what he refused to see, but he couldn't find a way. Or was it he didn't want to? He sat alone in silence as the snow piled on his shoulders. A few minutes later, he exhaled in relief, finding strength in his legs once more.

"Well done, our coordination is near perfect. Our group will have a high chance of surviving in the eleventh land and the tower." Serit nudged one of the bodies and ripped off an emblem bearing the mark of a five-headed beast with twelve tails, the sacred beast of the shattered lands known as Shattirma, the Avryion. "These bastards were close followers from the direct factions of the Argent Lords of Shattirma."

"Good, we killed them. These pompous assholes never reached out to help lands like ours." Desmond spat on one, earning a slap from Aster, who struck his back to scold her husband. The burly man turned soft over his wife and returned to piling the bodies in silence under her stern gaze. Others from the group snickered and hollered at him. Truly, they had become close companions during the several years of traveling this tundra. Oscar rubbed his temples, their collective laughter and joking grating on his nerves. It wasn't their fault, but hearing them reminded him too well of others.

"I heard one of them say something," Astrid spoke, her voice cutting through the cheerful laughter and wailing winds. She seemed nearly invisible in the heavy snowfall. A body flew across the air and landed on the increasing mound of corpses. As all eyes turned in her direction, she said, "Instead of fighting to survive, he used the last of his pathetic life to praise a so-called Shattered Scion."

Serit's expression shifted, clearly one of shock, but he remained silent. Oscar locked gazes with him, and Serit relented and spoke, "The Shattered Scion. It seems we've encountered high-ranking followers if they mentioned him. Only one person possesses that title in the current Shattirma, the Grade Nine Exolsia of Shattirma, the inheritor of all Argent Lords. Burn the bodies! We need to hurry out of here. There's no telling what manner of communication methods they have."

"What's his name?" Oscar asked, interested in Gilbert and Lelith's counterpart in Shattirma. The factions and people of Shattirma were a strange sort of culture. The very top, the Argent Lords of Shattirma and their factions maintained a tight alliance to form a singular force far better than the messy politics and inner turmoil of the Primal Council. But the middle and bottom factions were a complete mess, filled with constant conflicts like the Burning Valley in its earlier days before his arrival. Any information on a potential threat, especially one at the center of Shattirma, who received the full support of all the Argent Lords, was precious.

"We don't know. Our network can barely entrench itself in the top Shattirma factions. Part of why our great Ollanar hesitates to make any big moves is due to the hidden threat of the Argent Lords." Serit continued, collecting all the looted space pockets. "That's the truth, I swear. I wouldn't lie to my brother-in-law."

After the bodies burned quickly into brittle charred flesh, Fenu devoured them into his Melded weapon, the wolf mace that ate all in its destructive swing, perfect for stripping the battlefield clean. Oscar unconsciously looked at the orb, the fake sun mimicking the daylight over Fallen Heaven, forgetting that it didn't have a cycle of rise and fall, unable to tell the time. He set out forward once his group fully gathered and the former bloodied land was covered in fresh snow. Onward, they marched as the roaring storms blew fiercer winds, icy brushes of abrasive gusts scattering fur from their cloaks.

The snow grew denser as he could see the dark tower's shadow in the distance, but heat welled in his chest, an eagerness beating his heart with hot blood as Avril's face propped up in his mind. This intense backlash from the tundra meant he was close, so very close to the borders of the eleventh land. It was written the rejection of the lands struck hardest before the entrance to the eleventh land. Oscar poured more of his Ein into his shroud, stepping calmly against the chaotic weather. Behind, his group fared better since he took on the brunt.

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"Make sure to keep your eyes open," Oscar shouted against the rumbling snowstorm, a great shadow descending on them and enveloping the white land into darkness. He considered using Shattering Wave to push back the storm but was wary of attracting anyone's attention and held back the impulse. Ice crawled over his fur cloak, parts shaving off in clear cracks from the frozen bits breaking off. The storm seemed to come alive in a loud primal roar, frost gales bursting, and oceans of snow tumbling on them.

'I won't break here,' Oscar stomped over the endless avalanche. Up to its peak, he climbed, frost marking parts of his face, and felt a sudden gush of warmth swell around him, the winds calming and the snow nonexistent on the fresh summer grass under his feet. Taking off his fur cloak, he basked in the warm light spilling from the ten orbs of the lands, their radiance collectively washing over this place. As the others from his group exited the tundra, they all exclaimed and cheered, clearly delighted to be out of the cold.

"We did it!" Terrance, the leader of the Haven Academy division, raised his hand in a triumphant shout, the others joining in.

"Calm down!" Serit scolded. "Might as well attract every person in a hundred miles to our location. Oscar, where next?"

He didn't mind their boisterous cheers, remaining focused on the eleventh land. The dark tower stood in the center, but Oscar could see much more, the eleventh land exposed to him. Buildings, mostly ruins, covered in overgrowth and nearly collapsed from either time or war, spread neatly over the grass-ridden plains. Their age was unknown, but Oscar felt he had seen them before, gazing intently not at the current state of these timeless ruins but at what they used to be in their prime. Right, he had seen these buildings in their former splendor in Volten's memories, ancient fortresses and ramparts of the Caerulumen.

'We should destroy these buildings, burn them down.' Ignyres clicked his nonexistent tongue, mainly sounding like a spark of a flame. 'I'd burn that entire tower down if not for Metures being inside.'

'Calm yourself. We need to occupy one for now.' Demon said. He was right. The key element of the eleventh land was to survive until the opening of the dark tower, the other lands closing off in the final year, and all left behind would be lost forever. First, he needed to find Avril and find a good place to hide.

'Isaac's heir…you have finally arrived. I have been waiting here for many moons.' Two stems pierced from below with bulging ends. A slimy liquid oozed from the pores of the green stems as the bulging, round tips revealed themselves as eyes, black gems gazing at Oscar. The rest of its body erupted from the earth, the top of its shell covered in dirt and grass. One of Carcoatl's snails…finally, he found one. 'Forgive us for not finding you sooner, but searching around the ten lands is near impossible, so we buried ourselves in the borders of the eleventh land. And we lost many of our brethren in the battle against the Primal Council long ago. Our numbers stretched thin.'

"And I thank you for what you and the others sacrificed many years ago to protect me," Oscar patted the large snail's head, wincing at the strange wetness sticking to his palm. He asked in a strained voice, "Do you know where my wife is?"

'Please say you do…' Oscar uttered in his thoughts, kept up his hope, and wished his struggles would pay off.

'I do. Avril has come to Fallen Heaven and met with my sister. There are others with her, too.' The snail replied.

"Where?!" Oscar lost his breathing, panting in anticipation of meeting his beloved. He gripped the snail's head firmly as it wriggled its bottom, kicking up some dirt. The snail pointed its eyes toward the right, and Oscar grabbed it along and bolted off, the grass scattering in his trail. Using the snail's pointed eye stems as a compass, he followed the direction and came across a group of people who reacted with a flurry of spells. Entering the Psudeoguise, Oscar unleashed a fiery Shattering Wave, burning their weak spells into ashes, and Demon sliced off their heads as he zipped between their ranks. They dared to get in his way.

Then, after an hour of running and decimating anyone in his path, he saw her and tossed the snail aside. Indigo hair tied neatly back in braids with bangs covering her slightly scarred forehead. The fresh look on her face gave her a youthful air and beauty that entrapped his desires. Her golden eyes turned to him, gem-like and dazzling as he had seen every day in his imagination for several years, and they widened in clear joy, shining like the two suns. She smiled brightly and left her group, garnering the alarmed shouts of the woman beside her whom he recognized as Avila.

"Oscar!" Avril leaped into his arms and removed his helmet, pinching his cheeks as if confirming it was him. Her lips lifted until her dimples showed as her eyes curled in great delight. How could she be so beautiful? He couldn't resist and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm glad you're safe," Oscar embraced her closer, resting his chin on her soft head. Finally, they were together again. "I'm glad."

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