Elder Cultivator

The distance that Anton’s senses could go beyond the northern border was significantly less than elsewhere, and far more transitory. Normally, focusing on a single strand was something he could keep up indefinitely, but when reaching into the upper realms his energy was constantly eaten away. Thus, he had to keep investing more energy into it.

At one point he’d barely been able to reach Alva just beyond the border. Now he could at the very least sense a few systems deeper, though it took enough energy that he might deplete his reserves even as a Unity cultivator. Eventually. Even the most strenuous sensing wouldn’t usually be that draining.

Technically, he could have done better if he was willing to let his senses be obvious. The distance and the corrosive effects of the upper realms on his energy combined together in such a way that he had to use more energy, and thus it was easier to sense. It took more to keep it hidden, dissolving into the surroundings without creating any noticeable effects.

He could sense the war. He could even affect it, if he had been willing. Given the distance he would have to settle for taking out Integration cultivators while merely being a thorn in the side of Augmentation cultivators. Even so, he could easily shift the flow of critical battles and make one side the victor, or draw them into an eternal stalemate. Neither one was actually that beneficial for the Alliance.

Instead, Anton’s efforts were focused on finding people- and carrying along with that far-reaching energy the efforts of others. Specifically, Aerona’s energy. At such a distance Anton could probably communicate a few words, but they wouldn’t be good words.

Aerona’s path was focused on interactions with people in a direct way. She could put more than a few words into her energy if it was necessary, or more efficiently transmit ideas and feelings. People could be led to specific areas with a feeling of safety instead of having to be convinced one by one.

The main targets were those on the near side of the war, directing them to a planet that would be relatively safe. For that, they’d have to go all the way to the border. Preferably, to the same planet. Anton picked out Bounty, scarred as it was. The upper realms had scoured the planet to eliminate any traces of void ants at the turn of the tides, just like many others.

However, Bounty had been more prosperous and fruitful than the others. Much of its plant life had survived and naturally spread over the planet. Enough that there were some fertile fields and some natural food available.

It was the closest planet over the border to the Alliance systems, so the more people they could get there the better. It would still be a difficult process to get people over the border, but even if those efforts fell through people should be safer than they would have otherwise been, as long as they weren’t actually targeted by any of the war efforts.

Ji-Eun had no idea what she was doing. That might not have been obvious to anyone else, but to her it was crystal clear. The war had come to her homeworld without warning. At least, not a warning anyone of her status got. There had been quite a few people taking trip away before it came, but Ji-Eun hadn’t really thought it to be extraordinary.

The Sonorous Quintessence Sect had a very fancy name and absolutely no way to stand up against the great powers. When the Ponderous Turtle Clan had landed on the planet after a clash in the skies and demanded everything the sect had, they couldn’t exactly refuse. Especially not with the Sect Head and many elders already gone.

Ji-Eun hadn’t even been able to take a storage bag, just what clothes she could carry with her. As a Spirit Building cultivator, that was more than she really needed, but less than she hoped. Or rather, less of everything else. No weapons, no armor, and not even a decent harp. She was a little relieved she survived, but that was it.

For weeks, she wandered with other sect mates, but they were attacked by bandits taking advantage of the chaos. Ji-Eun ended up fleeing for her life into the mountains. Alone. She thought all hope was lost as she dined on berries, hoping that her stomach wouldn’t reject them. Even if she didn’t starve, the constant battles above and around the planet could easily kill her with just the aftershocks, if nobody else came after her.

Without any instruments, her only comfort was her song, when she was brave enough to make noise. It echoed into the mountains in a way that worried her she would draw the attention of man or beast. So she whispered, which made it a much worse song. But one day, she somehow felt it calling her somewhere. Or at least, something did.

She stumbled into a cave, fumbling around in the dark as she barely had any sense of her surroundings. Perhaps some Spirit Building cultivators could feel the world around them like breathing, but for Ji-Eun it was more difficult. She did hear how it echoed, however, as something drew her further in.

Somehow, she wasn’t worried about running out of supplies and starving, simply following the sounds. Perhaps she should have worried, but that only occurred to her after she entered a chamber full of glowing crystals- lighting up what was clearly a ship.

“A fortuitous encounter…?” she said to no one in particular.

That didn’t make any sense. That sort of thing didn’t just happen. Not to her. Was it karmic balance following the time of a disaster? She wasn’t exactly pleased with that result, but she couldn’t deny the sight in front of her.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She climbed aboard, struggling up the supports as it seemed to lack any sort of ladder. Ji-Eun was going to be very displeased if she learned that this ship was supposed to navigate local lakes or rivers. Or worse, if it was some sort of forgotten art project hidden deep within a cave for no reason. There was a certain sort of individual who loved making things like that. Useless versions of practical items.

The more she looked over the ship, the more she was certain that it was a sky ship, at least. She was a little bit unclear if it was capable of any form of interstellar travel, because the markings weren’t exactly clear. She’d never been in a position of piloting such a vessel, or really anything larger than a small dinghy on the sect’s lake.

Ji-Eun found some darkened crystals inside the ship’s core, and intuited that it was out of power. She carefully gathered some from the surrounding caves, hoping that they were the same sort of crystals without any real knowledge on the topic.

The ship took flight the moment she replaced the final crystal. There were a few flaws with that, foremost of which was that it was still attached to the structure holding it up. Ji-Eun fiddled around with poorly labeled controls before finally just breaking off a few points of connection that didn’t seem important.

She somehow managed to make it fly before she remembered that she was in a cave. She got dangerously close to the ceiling when it exploded, raining chunks of rock all around her. If the ship’s barriers were up, most of them would have deflected off of those. Instead, the deck was littered with rocks, some of which stuck into it. But the sails looked fine, and the helm was intact so… it would be fine. Probably.

She had no idea what she was doing, but she figured out how to make it stop going up just in time to avoid crashing into a flying turtle and a ship with far too many bones for it to merely be an aesthetic choice. The battling cultivators gave her no more than a glance, but Ji-Eun did her best to get out of there towards safety.

And where was safety? She didn’t know, but she listened to the song inside of her. It seemed to know. She was a bit nervous to find she was going towards people, but most of them were weaker than her. Mainly, not even cultivators. A small village came into view, with people standing and staring up at her.

“Anyone know how to fly this thing?” she called down as she skimmed the rooftops, angling towards a small lake that even had a dock. She was lucky that the formations seemed to somewhat follow her mental commands, furling and unfurling sails so that she could stop.

It seemed the village and the people around had designated an old man- who was probably a rank or two above her but similarly in Spirit Building- to speak for them. “We didn’t expect a rescue to come.”

Ji-Eun hadn’t expected to be a rescue. But for some reason, she felt like she was supposed to be. “Well, here I am. I don’t think we can delay. Get everyone on board as soon as possible, and bring as many supplies as you have. I don’t think we’re coming back.”

She wasn’t sure why she was so confident. Or maybe she wasn’t. But if she was trying to fool herself, it was okay to lie to these people too, right?

“Of course, we will move with all speed,” the old man said from the dock. “You’ll have to lower the gangplank, however.”

“Yeah?” Ji-Eun said. Admitting she didn’t know how to do that would weaken her position. “Can’t even jump up here and do it yourself? I give you permission.” She leaned on the wheel in front of her as casually as possible.

Fortunately, the old guy did know how to jump. And he also knew how the ramp worked. Oh, that was the gangplank. That made sense.

People were packed rather uncomfortably onto their ship, and Ji-Eun winced as the captain’s quarters were taken over by a family. Maybe she’d sleep on deck, then. Or not at all.

“Everyone aboard? Get ready to cast off!” Ji-Eun was glad to see that some of the people helped lift up the ramp. “Good. Our next destination is… the stars!”

Ji-Eun pointed, and was extremely surprised to see everyone turn in unison, as if she’d somehow done something truly profound instead of pointing towards the star that felt best. Or rather, just somewhere in the sky.

They began to climb again, and Ji-Eun kept her senses out for any battles happening. Or incoming ships. There wasn’t anything particularly nearby, but she soon found herself short of breath. Others were as well.

Oh, right. They were really high up. There had to be some sort of… space mode, right?n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

She knew what most of the things did, so she eventually managed to activate the barrier. And draw the attention of an enemy ship.

Ji-Eun knew how to make the ship go faster, so she did. Its sails stretched in the nonexistent wind, but she didn’t know if it was going to be enough. Until suddenly the rudder of the ship behind her exploded, which somehow made the ship twist and turn. By the time they got back on track she was out of the atmosphere, and they were set upon by another turtle. The turtles were surprisingly fast.

Ji-Eun looked at the few controls she had in front of her. She hoped one of them didn’t turn off the barrier. If that was the same one as the one that turned it on, then one of them had to do the thing. The interstellar thing. She sure hoped this was an interstellar ship. It at least flew into space without trouble, so… she had some hope.

Ji-Eun and many of the others turned to look at the planet most of them thought would be their home forever. It was already… small. And getting smaller., but probably not fast enough.

She turned her attention back to the controls.

Now, which of the buttons wouldn’t kill her? She was about to press one of them, when the ship suddenly jerked and something which felt a lot like whatever exploded the ceiling of the cavern activated part of the formation. The helm locked in place and the stars faded away.

So now there was a ship packed with people. What was Ji-Eun supposed to do about that? Except sing, she supposed. You were supposed to do that on ships, right? She didn’t know any sea, sky, or space shanties… but music was probably good.