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Just because he had a thousand cuts and punctures throughout his body causing every movement of his body to ache didn’t mean Chidi could just take the day off. They still had to move, their destination decided by Captain Tiras. Shutoll was a city a few hundred kilometers distant, less than a week of travel by road and potentially quite a bit more with a whole squad moving in secret.
The location was chosen for being the most likely of the vaguely nearby cities to still remain under the Scarlet Alliance’s control, based on what they learned from stolen plans and its position. It was their best bet for meeting up with others besides the ephemeral Chikere, who didn’t seem to care about the particulars of what cities were under whose control. Most likely, if she wanted to go somewhere she just would, regardless of who technically controlled an area.
Picking out enemy squads had become easier, as long as any of their members carried swords. That was fairly common, as cultivators of certain branches of the Harmonious Citadel tended to stick to their superiors. Thus, with Rakiya present there were many other disciples of the sword. It was also practical to have a mix of different styles, but as far as Chidi was aware they didn’t really consider that for squad composition.
When people took the effort to conceal themselves at all, they rarely considered their weapons. Even Velvet hadn’t really brought up the topic, which made Chidi wonder what this connection was. Could he gain the same sort of understanding for other weapons? Swords were among the most popular for one to wholeheartedly devote to, so it was likely possible. Though Chidi was unsure if it was possible with more than one weapon at a time. And… if it was reasonably possible to achieve, why the majority of Harmonious Citadel cultivators didn’t seem to have that connection. Except for the path of light, they were all devoted to a weapon.
Chidi wasn’t going to assume that none of the enemy possessed the trait- just that the majority didn’t. So he would have to figure out some way to hide his sword. Swords, technically, though the one from his parents was now just a backup. He would get in some training later with Captain Tiras and the others who developed the connection, as they would be able to sense if his attempts to conceal his blade actually proved fruitful.
Where enemy squads didn’t have sword cultivators, Chidi could still rely on traditional methods of detection… except for sight, of course. Aconite was responsible for that one. Or Ida, soon enough. Or several of the others, if they survived a few more months.
As Chidi walked, the aches and pains in his body reminded him that even if bone, muscles, and organs were only minimally damaged in an assault, there was no way to avoid some sort of injury if a blade went through someone. That should seem obvious, but even when a blade wove through muscle fibers it still strained them even if it did not cut them. The path to recovery was much shorter, but there was a limit to how quickly a body could recover. And though Chidi had a storage of personal medicines, he didn’t want to use them carelessly on trivial injuries.
Aconite startled Chidi out of his musings. “You know,” she softly growled, “I don’t think you have any basis for denouncing my mithridatism training anymore. You’re getting hurt just as much.”
“I didn’t choose this method, though,” Chidi pointed out.
“You did, simply by accepting Grandmaster Chikere’s offer of training. You knew what it would be like. Meanwhile, I am simply accomplishing my own training through similar methods.”
“Sure but… the point of the training is for me to get better so this doesn’t happen to me anymore.”
“And the point of my training is so it can’t happen.”
A few moments of silence. “Have I been so negative about that?” Chidi asked. “I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”
“The same with myself, and being in pain. But it is merely the process of growth. A cultivator must choose how much pain they can or should endure along their path of development.”
That was basically true. And while Chidi didn’t like pain, he also knew it was a valuable experience on its own. And he was quite glad when it was over. But as one of life’s many sensations, it was a part of what he would eventually have to experience. He just wouldn’t seek it out, but let it happen organically.
—–
It took some time for Anishka to realize an important feature of the world. It was something she hadn’t really comprehended until she came to Ekict. That thing was that Assimilation cultivators weren’t everywhere.
Obviously she knew that. She had a pretty clear idea of exactly how many there were… but that also meant an understanding that anywhere in the Trifold Alliance she was rarely ever more than a few moments away from one. At the speeds they could move, of course. For her, it could be much longer.
In Ekict, the number was known even more precisely- because it was exactly zero. Unless any had sneakily popped up in the last decade or so of interaction. Which didn’t seem likely, because they were hungry to know how Assimilation worked, even the weaker cultivators.
Even Patka, who was literally just beginning her cultivation and could barely even light or put out a fire. But it was a natural curiosity, at least for those who had the knowledge denied them. Strangely enough, Anishka was in no rush to find out as she knew she could at any time- at least when she actually needed it.
Guiding a beginning cultivator was a lot harder than Anishka thought it would be. She thought of it like basic arithmetic or reading and writing, but it was definitely more than a few stages removed from that.
Patka had basic questions that showed a serious lack of fundamental understandings of the world Anishka just thought everyone had. “I find it difficult to imbue something with cold.”
“Well,” Anishka tried to explain. “What you’re actually doing is removing heat from it.”
“But… it doesn’t make me hot,” Patka said.
“That’s because your natural energy is absorbing the change.”
“Why?”
That question was a lot harder to answer than it seemed. It was because natural energy responded to intent and control more than it performed a specific action. Because people didn’t think of something getting hot when they froze something. Because… it was easier.
Anishka frowned. Why should she not get something out of the heat she removed? That would be more efficient, even. And she wasn’t an ice cultivator, like her mother. She was brought up in the Fire and Ice Palace, and learned both styles. There were others like her, and while the two styles got along very well they were still quite clearly two groups with people taking part in both. Unlike their home, it wasn’t really a proper fusion technique.
“Are you alright?” Patka’s words brought Anishka back to reality.
“Oh, sorry. For the short answer, natural energy tends to soften the unintended side effects of people’s actions, which is good because otherwise early cultivators would really screw themselves up quite often. But there’s more to it that can be understood with time.”
“I see,” Patka nodded. “Well, if you’ll excuse me I should be going. I have customers to satisfy.”
It was unfortunate, but true. Patka needed to keep up with her work, not just to provide money for her survival but also to hopefully obtain extra gleanings for herself. That sort of scarcity was something Anishka hadn’t had to deal with, and not just because she was the daughter of a sect head. Most of the Trifold Alliance was prosperous enough, and cultivation ubiquitous enough, that there wasn’t really a question of finding time to cultivate. It was just how much time people would spend after they developed into adults and augmented their body and mind to perform tasks better.
Anishka made her way back to her room, since she didn’t really have any other friends nearby. Except for the Sergeant, who frequently insisted that they were not friends and that she was not actually there. The void ant, that is. Obviously they both knew Anishka was there. Even finding out the ant was a Sergeant was difficult, but after once insinuating that the ant might be part of the Royal Guard, she had been very insistent that was not true and her own rank was quite a bit lower… for the moment.
“Did you find anything interesting, Sergeant?”
“The state of natural energy is somewhat lacking here,” said the void ant in their sign. “And the natives-”
“What about the natives?”
“They are perfectly normal individuals who might squash an ant if they saw it. So I remain concealed.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. What if you were bigger, do you think that would change?”
“That would compromise my… position. And simply make me more of a target.”
“Alright, well, you can still come with me. The folds of my collar should be safe enough still.”
There was no official response to that, but Anishka knew she would likely find an ant waiting by the exit of her room come morning. She wondered if she should get some more friends, since one was significantly older and the other was an ant that didn’t want to talk. Not that she personally felt the need for many, but that seemed like too few.
—–
Anton left his most recent location behind, with the important qualifier that several individuals had methods to contact him in case of an emergency. He didn’t want to be in a constant state of being used as an emergency contact, but he could manage a couple planets and one system at a time. Ceretos and the Trifold Alliance were just fine without him, though he would obviously not refuse a call for help if they sent one.
He returned on his path towards In’istra, taking a somewhat wandering path with one specific stopover in mind. The planet he wanted to visit was around a cool white star. By moisture quantity it was clearly a desert… but it was not lifeless like the intentional devastation of Tenoun’a and Shrenn.
This place still had not had any real contact with Anton, including telling him its name. That was something he planned to change on this visit. As expected, his approach resulted in people scurrying inside. If he wanted to, Anton could have approached with stealth or sufficient speed to catch them. But both options seemed like they would have negative side effects. So he allowed them to notice him at a great distance, and approached the same settlements. Nobody came out, but this time he left notes. Unless this planet was particularly divergent, they should at least be able to read them.
There was the slight issue that all of his ink and paper were imbued with natural energy to make everything durable, but that was easily circumvented by writing in the dirt. His message was simple. He was a wandering traveler, curious about the place. And he would very much like to know their name. Hopefully they would supply that.
He did as his messages said and moved to a particular part of the wilderness that should seem like a reasonable distance away. He could still sense the various settlements, of course, but he used only the smallest strands of energy to detect changes. People did return outside, and they at least approached the messages.
After one week he returned. Scrawled on the ground next to one of them was a simple answer. Xicil. That had to be the name of the planet, since he wouldn’t have received an answer if communication was not possible. The one thing that was noticeably missing was a request to never come back. Perhaps they had not considered that it would do any good, but now Anton had infinitely more connection to the area.
Before he left, he looked over their various crops- mainly succulents and other desert dwelling plants. They were quite well managed, and it made him quite happy to see. Perhaps he could provide them a gift, though he would have to be careful that it would not disrupt the ecology. They had a nice balance at the moment that he didn’t want to disrupt.