The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Before Oscar could speak or quiet down the combined cheers of eight hundred Marshal Exalts, a greater uproar rose from outside, forcing everyone into silence as the ground shuddered. Clouds of dust and gales of blades of grass rumbled in the far distance, accompanied by the scattering of countless heavy steps approaching, drawing closer to the outer walls. Faintly, a few dark silhouettes of great creatures flickered underneath the duststorms, some winged, some on four legs or more, and others writhing and dragging their bodies across the ground. Roars of immense Ein and power boomed like thunder, beastly cries proclaiming their arrival.

"My Lord! Beasts are approaching!" One of the scouts who had climbed the inner wall shouted, his hand clutching his bow tightly. "They number around seven hundred!" A clamor erupted between the Exalts, and many turned toward the gates with a warcry, Ein ringing across the surfaces of their armaments. Without question or instructions, they already filed in rank and order, ready to protect and fight.

"Silence!" Serit projected his voice with Ein. "Open the gates, let them through. They, too, have come to pay homage to our Lord. His reach extends to even the beasts." He played the role of his herald well, having stoked the flames of loyalty for a whole year. Oscar sat on his throne and gestured for Serit to continue, acting as an aloof authority. Serit claimed it added an alluring aura, easy for eager newcomers to fall under.

The beasts poured in through the six entrances of the outer walls and surrounded the inner walls. An Exalt on the wall faltered but pushed a wheel on the side, joined by the others. The thick chains rattled to the heavy thuds of gears grinding as they were pulled by a series of mechanisms, making the stone gates lift out of the ground. As the gate fully opened, the first of the beasts entered, raising their heads high and letting out a roar to the sky, the meaning clear as day. 'We are here!'

"Let them through!" Serit ordered, and amazingly, the crowd showed no hesitation before the beasts, lowering their guard and forming a wide, clear passage straight to the platform.

All manners of beasts, numerous in variety yet so limited in numbers, strode between the two groups of humans. Phoenixes, various crows, primates, boars, a few Prielapos, lesser deers, snakes, and more made up the group. At the front, Oscar recognized the black crow with four wings and five talons, the mutated Yatscrow, Ruvin. Beside him was one of the phoenixes that perched near the base of the Beak of Ra, watching over him and Avril in their seclusion. Also beside him were Roak and the snails and Gnar and his pack. Ruvin cawed, bringing the chaotic beasts to silence. Their eyes of many shapes and colors locked on him and then flickered to the sword in his hand, still bearing the new banner straight in the air.

'See now. See all. He is touched by the Ancients and given the blade of Talos. Who dares reject his authority?' Ruvin cawed again. The answer was a resounding no. One by one, the beasts lowered their heads. The action spread like wildfire to the others, the human Exalts joining by bowing with their faces near the ground. A few murmured in faint whispers of worship. The Lands of Zeret decided to join him for the final night, bringing his total forces to around fifteen hundred, the most of all other factions. Oscar pounded Volten's sword like a gavel twice, and all lifted their gazes toward him.

Fenu approached and knelt on both legs, the bones of his knees clacking on the platform as he spread his arms wide in deep reverence. The rejuvenated Ashwolf leader spoke in a raspy voice, choked by emotions as tears rode down his youthful cheeks, "My Lord. We are gathered at last, man and beast. Please let us know. What is our path? Where will you lead us?" His question was projected to all, echoing to the farthest people.

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"I do not know," Oscar stood from his throne, clutching Volten's sword. "I hate war. I hate fighting. I hate the circumstances that have led us all to this moment. I despise that I lacked the control over my own life. I failed a long time ago and nearly lost everything. The blood of my brothers and sisters covers my hands. Their corpses remain in my nightmares. The path I walk…is one of death."

Oscar closed his eyes. He could see himself standing in Volten's place, overlooking a mountain of corpses. The fifteen hundred Exalts here could very well be another such sight, one more unfortunate outcome of a long war. Volten's weary smile surfaced in his memories. Exhaling to clear his lungs, Oscar addressed the crowd, "But I am a fighter. That is all I have been since the start. Never surrender. Never give in. Force my legs to stand and face the enemy head-on. Perhaps I have been manipulated into fighting battles for others, thrown into the thick of war by my love, duty, and desperation. If you follow me, there will be death because we pursue life. Peace lies in the end! I will no longer run and pretend I can live in peace now, not when the world itself is breaking apart around me. I will fight until I can rest my sword, either in my home or my grave. Who among you will follow?"

"Yes! Terr! Terr! Terr!" The chants started, and the beasts roared, all stomping their feet.

"Our battle will carry on far past Fallen Heaven. It will reach the farthest corners of Talos. An unimaginable war is coming, and it will consume us all. But I will not force you. No more will I repeat the mistakes of the past–" Oscar held his chest, feeling Ignyres's sadness, tinges of regret for Volten reaching out, "-everyone deserves a choice. I have made mine. What of you? Right now, we are together in this place. But afterward, when we enter the dark tower and fight in Talos…will you fight for me? Or seek shelter elsewhere? I give you the freedom to choose, and no one can take that away from you."

"I, Fenu, swear on my blood. That my clan and all descendants after shall fight alongside you. May their loyalty run in the blood, passed from generation to generation." Fenu cut his palm and raised his arm, showing his blood to Oscar and the others.

Oscar frowned, gritting his teeth. The damned fanatic no longer understood the value of choice and even offered his bloodline's eternal loyalty. Erden grunted and shook his head slightly toward Fenu's maddened gesture. Serit seemed to expect this and unfurled a larger banner bearing the same dark symbol of a helmet with three horns. Fenu strode forward, marked the white banner with a bloody palm, and signed the Ashwolf name underneath. He gave Serit a narrow gaze, to which his brother-in-law simply shrugged.

"I, Shallen, of the Kyers, swear the same." Shallen from Shattirma stepped forward, cut his palm, and raised it high before marking the banner with blood and name. The same followed for the Togros, various families of Haven Academy, and other groups from the corners of Shattirma and Vallen. Serit and Avila also participated, but more for show rather than true loyalty since their relationship was equal due to marital ties. Marcus and the others made their marks, but Adam, Hector, Helen, Renn, Gloria, and Avril stayed back. Bit by bit, the white banner was nearly dyed red, marked by a sprawl of palms and names written in blood, several hundred, in fact.

"Should we get Auren, my Lord?" Marcus asked.

"No. His work is crucial and requires a great deal of concentration." Oscar shook his head and blinked, unable to believe everyone had offered their entire bloodlines to him. In these circumstances, he could only return their zealousness and cut his own palm, the blood trickling down his wrist. In the dead center of the helmet symbol, Oscar planted his palm down, marking his blood in the formerly unblemished black. As he mulled over the implications of these hundreds of bloody oaths on the banner, Oscar turned and shouted, "You have chosen a harsh path. Fight and live so you can reach life and peace at the end."

"It is done!" Serit shouted. "The final night is nigh. We are strong! Man and beast together!" The humans and beasts clamored together. He turned to Oscar and said, "My Lord. We await only your word." Silence befell the fifteen hundred as eager gazes surrounded him.

Raising his head and closing his eyes, Oscar sighed and clenched his hands into fists, feeling a part of his legs trembling. In the end, the fear still remained. But there was no turning back now, not after he had come so far. He swept his gaze over the expectant looks and feverish expressions, waiting for him to speak. "Then…for peace."

"For peace!"

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