Hmmph... this junior is a good seed [Cultivation Management Quest]

Diomedes cestus was traveling in a wagon towards his goal, feeling the harsh desert sun upon his back.
The nearest golden devil clan outpost was still hours away leaving him with his thoughts and doubts.

When the news about the golden devil clan declaring they would be recruiting new disciples has reached the cestus family his father declared that all with talent in their lands will be sent to join the clan.
He knew that with the infamous one hundred years trials fast approaching those that will be part of the clan forces will be hunted down by the monsters that were the cultivators of the fifth sea.
He knew that for all of his talent he will still be nothing more than slightly stronger prey when the time comes.

In his fears, he approached his father, an eight-step qi condensation cultivator himself, in his cultivation chambers in the family manor and Shamefully begged him about hiding away his talent and waiting for after the trials before cultivating and joining the clan forces.
His father was quick to disabuse him of that notion.
He remembered his father's face back then, a terrible combination of anger, rage, and most striking of all disappointment.

His father spoke of how he was saved by a cultivator from the golden devil clan years back after he was attacked by a disciple from the Battle Blood Cannibal sect, normally a death sentence for a loose cultivator like him
the legionnaire saved his life at the cost of his arm.
"Duty" his father spoke, was what saved him that day for the legionnaire declared it his duty to protect those in his clan territory from their enemies, ignoring the man status as a loose cultivator.

He spoke of how the very kingdom they lived in was protected by the legions from the depredations of both the Cannibals sect and the various beasts of the desert that would have destroyed them without a second thought.
"Duty" he spoke was the only thing that kept his family and the mortal kingdom that they lived from being annihilated as so many others did.

And as dusk was setting in and the gates of the Golden devil clan outpost was coming into view, Diomedes staring at the sheepskin scroll his father has pushed into his hands smiled bitterly and pushed down his fears.
As he remembered his father's words he resolved himself to do his duty and attempt to aid the clan with nothingless than his best.
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this is my first attempt at writing something and i would appreciate any ideas for improvements.
Diomedes while afraid at first decided to join the clan forces to repay them for their protection of the mortal kingdom where he lived.
@occipitallobe
for my omake bonus i choose an improvement for his cultivation talent.
Edit-since apperantly generic cultivation talent upgrade might not work if its possible I choose an cool thing- old sheepskin scroll details a cultivation method that increases the efficiency of cultivating both body and qi simutanously.

---

Tasos and Eudokia were left by the magical carpet a ten-minute walk from the Southern Gate, and rapidly closed distance to their assigned meeting point. The magical carpet had most than made up for the two days they'd spent trapped inside the cavern - and to Tasos, that time had somehow felt simultaneously longer and shorter than that. It still meant the pair were ahead of schedule.

They still got approached by a trio of legionnaires very instant they got to the gate. The first was a man, red of hair and heavily scarred, wearing the armour of a Pentarchos. He was easily the shortest of the bunch, carrying a kite shield with a notch on its side and wearing a partisan-headed kontarion spear on his back. Behind him was a broad-shouldered blonde woman with very little bronze in her, with the circular shield and long two-hander axe of the varangian tradition that had managed to survive within the clan, as well as a sling of javelins. The trio was rounded up by a slim man who wore his dark hair long, with burnished bronze skin yet Turtle World eyes. He carried no shield and wore lighter armour, with a curved parmenion sword resting inside its sheath on his hip.

"You would be Akrites Tasos Basilakes and Schola Eudokia Aikos?" The Pentarchos said, then continued on without waiting for a response. "I am Aphios Parmenion - your commander from now on. These are Kentarcha Euphemia Askeladden and Scholus Sokratis Ninis, who form the rest of the unit. Now come - we're leaving"

"I thought the caravan left in a week?" Tasos asked, confused - to which Aphios nodded.

"You would be right - but there's been a change of plans" The man said, he turned to Euphemia, who nodded. "There's a pair of traveling groups of Blood Cannibals operating along the far end of the Uncast Molds and we're taking them out - thankfully, Euphemia can get us there stat. Afterwards, we'll be hitting supply lines - so that the remaining actors have to either retreat or starve. We'll be relying on your bow a fair bit, archer-boy - most of our enemies aren't used to dealing with someone sniping them out of the air, at least not when facing us"

"That's not standard clan doctrine" Eudokia, ever the stickler for that, pointed out, making Sokratis laugh and Euphemia shake her head. Aphios remained serious - but Tasos could see the amusement in his eyes.

"This isn't a standard unit" He answered, pointing in a circle with his hand. "I'm guessing Saros didn't tell you - we're a search and destroy team, built with single intent of acting as far from standard clan doctrine as possible to catch our enemies off-guard. There's a reason this is a Pentarchy with no corresponding Tetrarchy to form a proper Kountobernion. And why you have a Varangian, a standard Kentarchos, a sword Scholus, a hand-to-hand Schola and a bloody archer in the same squad - the last one's new for us too"

Aphios then turned to Tasos.

"Speaking of? You're the first archer that's been considered for this, by virtue of also being a terror up close" The lancer stated. "I love me some Akrites, but usually because of the intel they get me, not their fighting skills. We've changed the whole strategy to work around that - so if it fails, it's on you"

He grinned and gave Tasos a pat on the back.

"No pressure, eh?" Aphios joked - and Tasos gulped. Maybe he should've made an effort to lay low?

Eudokia had clasped her hands, and seemed to be slowly trying to integrate what she had been told. Noticing that, Aphios waved at her.

"Not what you expected, I take it?" He asked, leaning closer. Eudokia nodded slightly.

"To be honest, sir, no" She admitted. "I've always- I've excelled within the clan doctrine. I'm good at it. I'm not sure what made the Elders decide I would be best used here"

Tasos didn't miss the glance she gave your way either - even after the cavern, it seemed Eudokia had her reservations about relying on Tasos's bow to create openings.

"We can talk more on the way" Aphios commanded, turning to Euphemia. "Let's go"

The Varangian nodded and flicked a bracelet around her wrist - making an ululating horn ring, and five ethereal six-legged horses sweep down from the nearby sands. Aphios went to the lead and climbed up - and so did the rest of the unit. Not ten minutes later, they were lost in the desert sands.

---

Tasos tumbled down a sand dune and somersaulted backwards, somehow finding enough footing for liftoff as he struggled to create some distance between him and Aphios while he tugged at his bowstring. Euphemia quickly filled the space, her shield strike deflecting the Pentarch's stab long enough for Tasos to get an volley of arrows off - but Aphios's shield and the three hoplite formations around him easily blocked the salvo of arrows. Catching a glimpse of movement to his side, Tasos planted his foot and projected backwards again while swinging his bow sideways to fire a pair of arrows towards Sokratis's airborne form just as Eudokia shot through the sands, hands clawing at the swordsman while her armour's stingers circled around. Still, Sokratis swung his sword and let out a powerful war cry, the shockwave of his firing the arrows off-course and blasting Eudokia backwards. Tasos drew again, and his bow grew heavy as he prepared to shoot at Sokratis again, this time with a much stronger arrow aimed at his center of mass while he fell - when suddenly he felt the cold bite of steel at his throat.

"That's enough" Aphios said, his lance biting at Tasos's neck. "That's the first time you managed to stick to the side-target without the need to switch back and guard your front, Tasos- good progress"

"It got me killed, though" Tasos pointed out, rubbing at his neck. Euphemia, often the sternest, had the grace to look ashamed.

"I can't stop the Pentarchos solo" She said. "There is a reason he is in charge"

"In an actual engagement it'll be me and Eu covering your center while Eudokia and Sokratis lure enemies in and cover flanks" Aphios reassured. "But we need you to stay aggressive and trust us to cover you, otherwise this won't work. Sok, how's the girl?"

"She's gotten much better at using that armour of hers" The swordsman answered, cracking his neck. Eudokia had dropped to the ground, and was heaving for air. "I think they're ready to swim instead of sink"

"Sure hope so, because according to the boy here-" Aphios shoved Tasos's shoulder hard. The archer didn't wipe out into the sand this time. "-we're hitting the trail later today and the tracks should have us reaching the group tomorrow. Get some water into your system - we've a job to do"

The past three months had been hellish for Tasos and Eudokia - quite literally a trial by fire as Aphios's team subjected them to intense training based on a clear 'trial by fire' philosophy. As Tasos retrieved his waterskin and drank greedily from it, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to merit being tossed into a team of monsters.

Aphios Parmenion was not the most talented cultivator in the Golden Devils - far from it, in fact. He was of martial bent, more a soldier than a cultivator, and his progress had been notably slow in terms of Realms - but the man was an absolute beast at his leverage of his Qi and his mastery of the Hoplite formation. Where one Kentarchos would normally conjure a single Hoplite ghost, Aphios could easily bring up a whole phalanx by himself - making him a self-contained frontline and allowing him to punch up way higher than his 5th Heavenstage, especially with support of a team.

He also had about the single most never-say-die attitude Tasos had seen in a person - completely unbothered with his slow cultivation speed and completely confident that he would reach his breakthroughs in time, through his own grinding path.

Euphemia Askeladden was the complete opposite - having enlisted twenty years before Tasos and Eudokia, she was currently the highest-realm member of the unit but lacked Aphios's experience. Her own style exemplified the idea of 'shock trooper' - with Aphios being an entire frontline, Euphemia was free to invoke her own unique Bloodline which would constantly ramp up her power and toughness the longer an engagement went by multiplying the inertial force of all her movements. She would come in swinging and shatter enemy formations like a siege engine, her sheer power and imposing presence forcing the enemies to work around her and switch to defensive posturing.

The last member of the unit, Sokratis Ninis, was a traditional sword cultivator in many ways - with clear exception of his own integration into desert combat. In any other landscape, Sokratis would be just another soldier - but inside the desert, he was faster, swifter, more used to the uneven terrain - he had specialized himself to the point of perhaps his very Dao beginning to shape around the idea of thriving in the unforgiving desert sands.

It was very clear this was a team that had been specifically designed around the concept of punching up.

Tasos tossed his waterskinto Eudokia the moment she got close enough - and the woman tilted her head back, drinking with gusto.

"You ready for tomorrow, then?" He asked - to which Eudokia shrugged.

"I hope so, but I won't know until the moment comes" She admitted. "I feel... like the Sandpike Scorpion Cuirass is finally moving like a part of me instead of a prosthesis, but every time we split into formation, my brain screams out 'wrong'"

Tasos shrugged.

"It's effective - apparently it's been effective before we got here. Formations and organized combat are what keep us safe, but they also make us predictable"

"It still feels like a mistake" Eudokia maintained. "We are the Golden Devils - we should fight like Golden Devils"

"Some of the current best don't - not really" Tasos pointed out as he retrieved his waterskin from Eudokia. "Two of the fastest-progressing Disciples of this century are Barda and Centenius, who specialize in poisons, and Adelphos who's all about Arrays - though that latter is also an important Clan tradition. The Ninth Prince is a complete outsider, even"

"And yet the two brightest stars, Young Master Sarantpechos and Rina Callista, are scions of traditional families who both exemplify the epitome of the Bronze-carrying Kentarchos" Eudokia shot back. "Tradition, structure, doctrine - it is what has allowed us to maintain our power in the wake of a reality that is itself against us. I value that - I worked to achieve my place within that, but this team asks me to put it all away. Even the armor - I was never a poisoner, and yet now I am and I would be a fool to give it up, yet it still feels wrong"

Tasos didn't know what to say to that - it was a conversation the pair had had many times, though usually without discussing the best seeds of the clan in between. He instead climbed to his feet and offered his hand.

"Well, I for one am glad you were posted here" Tasos said as he helped Eudokia climb to her feet. "Past me would rather die than say this - but we make a surprisingly good team. Keep them off me tomorrow, eh?"

"Don't miss, and I will" Eudokia answered, slight grin on her face and her eyes full of resolve. "Succeding is the most important Golden Devil tradition - I can put with everything else so long as we do that"

---

A victory turned to two - then three, then many more. Soon, colonists began to speak of a group of sand wraiths that guarded the Uncast Molds, striking in the dark under the cover of sand and felling those who would dare strike far into the Clan's territory and then vanishing into the desert dunes. Tales of bodies staked into the ground with arrows, of men dropping dead weeks after recovering from injury, killed by an unknown poison, or dragged under the sands. Of pulped cannibal bodies discovered only due to clouds of vultures crowding overhead - cleaved and pulped into mince by an axe. The few survivors would ramble about how they got ambushed by one man who became an army as pain rained upon them from all directions.

As he listened an eager tavernmaid retell the newest tale of the Wraiths of the Molds, Tasos would lift his tankard and toast to his team without saying a word. And years later, when a group of three others joined them at the newly-built Blood Devil Fortress to replace Aphios, Euphemia and Sokratis who were rotating out of frontline service, a much different Tasos found himself staring at Theodora and Zhang and grinned.

"I think we missed something" Thea said, glancing from Tasos to Eudokia. "I thought one of you would have killed the other by now"

"There's much to talk about" The archer answered, drawing his old friends into headlock-hugs. "How about we get something to eat, and you tell me what you've been up to these past years? Eudi and I will give you the run down afterwards"

---

I had the title and a couple of the scenes for this one in my head for a good while. I think I managed to tie it all together - there's a fair amount of time between Manuel updates and I'm experimenting with ideas of how to properly represent that passage of time. By the end of this update, Tasos's development is starting to really ramp up - he did make it to 7th heavenstage inside this 20 year period, after all, so I'm slowly building towards that by having him take over the unit after Aphios rotated out.

Hopefully people enjoyed it! The title is a reference, of course. As usual please help me with inconsistencies - I tried to play on the 'juniors aware/in awe of the seniors' trope.

This has been an especially difficult turn to recommend a Good Seed.

Rina Callista was an obvious first choice for worldbuilding, the Ninth Prince was almost her opposite in many ways and I felt a great second one - his story is great, but very different to the norm in the Clan.

There are at my current count eight Good Seeds I'd really like to recommend.

After some thought, I decided to recommend by word length, which seemed the fairest way.

So this turn's Good Seed to Read is Ferenike.

Let's get the elephant in the room out of the way first. Ferenike's story is big. Thirty-seven thousand words! When you commit to reading Ferenike, you're reading something roughly the length of the main quest.

Ferenike's story is very traditional for the Clan - a bronze-blooded young girl ambushed by Blood Path cultivators, and coming to the Clan to train and fight.

What makes it special among Good Seeds is the story. Where most Good Seeds are off gallivanting around doing ten things, Ferenike commits to her plots, and has three clear arcs. Less stuff happens in a broad plot sense with Ferenike than some other Good Seeds, but the stuff that happens is a really coherent story - it feels more like reading a novella than the more common series of vignettes that you often see among Good Seeds (not that there's anything wrong with vignettes!)

Her first arc is training, dealing with rivalries in the Clan. Minor problems, relatively speaking plotwise.

Her second (and largest arc so far) is fighting against the evil Zu Jing. I won't spoil things, but Zu Jing is really well established as a villain, with compelling personal reasons for Ferenike to hunt him down. She has to use diplomacy, intrigue, and her martial skills to hunt down the villain, establishing a new ally and friend along the way.

Her third arc, which has only just begun, sees her changing from a student to a teacher, taking on and training others rather than simply accomplishing goals for herself.

You can read Ferenike's story here.

An old man, centuries old and powerful beyond mortal keen, looked down upon a bed upon which lay the body of one of the most interesting cases in recent decades. Achelous pulled upon his spiritual might to peer past the veil of the physical and into the beyond. His eyes grey, burned green in the light of his Dao as life energy surged through his ancient body, causing bones elderly even for one of his stature to creak and shudder, refusing to let his body's suffering deter his will and shake his Dao, he looked upon the young boy in front of him.

Healing might not be able to heal the child's spirit or body, but it could reveal as much if not more than the liquid of Truth. Grimacing with distaste at the thought of the relic forged from a fallen Blood Cannibal Nascent Soul centuries ago, he pushed it out of mind with the ease of long practice for it was his responsibility as the master of this hospital to ensure its safety and allow for reasonable usage of such items. Withdrawing the soul stature of the child from one of his many pockets, which he had received from his daughter only a few moments ago, he looked at the chaotic nature of the strands of energy and his Dao illuminated the points of damage.

A smile creeped along his lips, for his power and Dao might not be able to restore that which was lost, but it could see and help him heal the child of the injuries limiting his ability to live. Reaching down with a finger he gently began to examine the spiritual structures of the boy's body with care to ensure that the touch of a Core Formation Expect would not harm the unstable body anymore.

Power rushed out of him, through his finger deep into the body below him. Green lighting danced along the body and within even as it examined the life and health of the spirt and body alike. Where before it could not find purchase, now with the guide of the soul stature in hand the pure power of healing poured forth into the channels of power within all living things. Then disaster struck, an eddy of power rejected by the body touched the surging might of healing energy coursing though the child, and a fragment of energy centuries beyond the child was torn away from his control and left to rampage throughout the body of the child he was Dao bound to heal. Causing harm to one of his patients could very easily see his Dao falter and such a fate would be terrible indeed, not for himself for he had long since came to terms with mortality and his power, yet it would throw everything into disarray at a time in which order was paramount.

Such disorder could not be allowed to exist and so, he must protect his Dao and by extension the hospital and all of his patients. Thus, he would have to use a rather dangerous art and relic, too manifest the energy of the student in corporal form so that he could safely remove his energy from the child, and perhaps do more healing than otherwise possible. Throwing my power outward to grab ahold of the item that I would need, I begin to prepare the room.

Fire bursts into existence as I purge the room of all contamination, my body and the one below me burst into green flames for a split second as all such contamination is expelled from our souls and bodies alike. As the flames burn forth more and more such impurities that could lead to harm burn away under the fury of the Dao of Healing. Flesh quivers as my power infuses the room and cells begin to revitalize as I turn back the hand of fate, my power tearing the child apart is canceled as I force my power to heal that which it shatters to buy time for the item that is needed to arrive.

After seconds of waiting the door opened and closed as a vial slammed into my hand. Golden with silver etchings with a stopper of platinum, one of the major treasures of the hospital. Yet one with such a limited use as to be all, but useless outside of the single event that is transpiring as of this very moment. For this vial holds a mist that pulls the power of cultivators into physical form regardless of personal power, allowing for precise manipulation of their powers, in theory it could allow anyone to kill or severely wound any single person, yet the restrictions upon its use limit it to such a degree that it is all but useless for us. Yet another sign of the Heaven's disfavor for our people, for if any other group had this item it would be able to be used in battle or to heal, but for us it will finally see use for the first time since it was found.

Green light flared as thee seal of emerald shattered and the platinum cork was pulled out of the vial. With its removal mist surged forth, glimmering in the light of my power it soon filled the room seeking a way to escape its ordained purpose, yet with my work it had no such escape and so fighting every step of the way it expended its energy and with a single mighty implosion it vanished and so did the room in a flash of darkness.

As the man opened his eyes once more he looked upon a scene of utter confusion. A room forged of nine metals was where he found himself, to his back stood a door of pure emerald and a room burning with green light dwarfing the room he looked upon. The room he looked upon, he realized was an enneagon, a nine sided shape with his door placed in a non existent side to protect the nine sided shape of the room. A celling that rose to a single point towered overhead as the metals all converged to a single point where all mixed into a single form.

As he turned to look around the impossible room, he saw nine figures standing in the center of each wall, Each a stature of the boy he was working to save, formed from the metal of the wall they stood before, each bore a different stance and countenance.

A stature of gleaming silver, flowed and shifted every moment he looked upon its face. Never stable always changing forever in motion, yet the face in the midst of constant motion yet remained stable and firm. Bearing a regal countenance of wisdom and sight beyond sight, in this unreal realm he could see beyond the surface and knew that one eye saw life and the other saw death and yet never did they fight for they saw the duality as one and the same. Where there is life there is death and the swirling body danced between the two states without fear for such was the way of nature. What was dead, was alive and what lived was dead, the fundamental truth of the metal made manifest. A Dao awaiting forging and ready to stand tall and regal, the duality of life and death forever bound as one. Hope eternal for the endless cycle never ended and in death life and in life death.

Tearing his eyes from the sight of something so akin to his own Dao, he looked to the right and saw another stature. The sight of the next stature made him long for the previous, for looking upon this stature was akin to looking upon something long since corrupted and broken. Yet, forcing his sight past the darkness he could see flickers of something glorious within the corruption. Where the intent of the first was clear to his sight in this realm this stature cried its purpose in sadness, it was not meant to exist forever and yet it was forced to do so by the nature of the world. It wished to become subsumed into the gold and yet it could not and so it could only suffer. Yet, even in its suffering it spoke of a better end than its current existence. It might be forever blocked from the gold, but it could be refined and so it spoke of its stability and simple weight, and so another Dao was revealed to the eyes of the watcher as the stature spoke of simple presence and the weight of duty. It spoke of nothing so grand as the endless cycle of life and death, but instead it simply stated that it was forever doomed and yet such a fate could not break it and so it came to embody something greater, determination and stability. As his eyes left the stature he saw within another meaning buried beneath the first and yet it slipped his sight as his eyes drifted onwards towards the next stature.

Leaving the stature of duty and weight behind his eyes danced to the third of nine and looked upon, a stature wearing a robe of metal with books piled at his feet, a pen in hand with paper ready to record information. The face of this stature was calm and orderly, yet behind the cool exterior, he could sense a form of anceint wisdom from the stature. This stature claimed no importance, nor did it cast itself down into the pit as did the first or the last one. Instead this statue simply accepted what it was for what it was, nothing more than that for such was the simplest and most truthful answer. Its understanding of self protected it against the dangers that threatened them all, for it knew and understood what the others did not and so it simply waited for when it was needed. A third Dao born within the statue became revealed and it was simple and to the point, a simple conviction that humanity's mind and wisdom would allow ascension in time, as the body followed the mind to ever greater heights. In the end it was simple, yet none the less potent for such simplicity, for it understood when to fight and when to find another path. A truly flexible Dao to be sure and yet once more his eyes drifted to the next statue the fourth of nine.

Gleaming and resplendent, the fourth statue stood regal and firm in front of its wall. Golden skin and eyes burning into the eyes of the watcher and deemed him lesser. Pure of form and mind, perfection made real, soul empowered beyond, all was held within the heart of the golden stature. Yet, even as arrogance chocked the vision, within lay a hidden understanding drawn from perfection of mind, that revealed the flaws of self to the statue such as the one he looked upon last. Yet, even as he looked he saw only a single conviction, only a single meaning and only a single path for this statue, perfection in all, nothing else would satisfy this being of gleaming metal. For it was the apex and the ultimate goal and so all else bent the knee before its lawful might, yet nothing within this unreal realm was ever so clear and concise and within the overbearing superiority of the statue lay another idea, intrinsic and yet another shape for the statue to be forged into. A Soul unburdened and untouched by darkness, a Soul able to survive all that could be thrown at its course, something that would never bend to another path. A Dao of Perfection warred with a Dao of the intrinsic might of the Soul of all life, awaiting the final choice to be made in the coming years.

Onto the fifth he looked as the shimmering golden statue of the fourth declared his time done. Shining copper was what he saw, the statue was that of an artist with paint and canvas ready for the work to begin, where the third stood ready with quills and books to write, this one cleaved to another side of humanity and yet accepted the other side for its own nature. Without judgement it accepted everything and understood that it all was part of the grand picture that was the world as a whole. It simply knew that there was ideals beyond its purview and accepted such and so much as the statue of tin protected by its internal understanding, the statue of copper resisted by its understanding of the grand picture of the world. Yet, more secrets lay within as the watcher looked within and saw a healing hand placed upon an ailing brow and the one so injured gained in strength as copper energy washed into the body below the hand. With a creak of metal, the copper statue shifted its face to stare at the watcher and its lips shifted a slight amount, even as it began to paint a new image. The last he could see of the copper was that its Dao was in flux just as the gold and yet it had many more options, from balance to healing and yet others hidden within.

The sixth statue of gleaming silver, stood apart and aloof from the others as it stared into the distance. Littered at its feat lay countless scrolls of events to come, and others writing of the nature of people and self. Taking the form of a ponderer of ancient secrets it looked forth and without worry, for it knew that which came would not always be so, for it saw beyond the limits that sought to blacken its sight and the gleaming light of its sight pierced even the darkest of times. Yet, it still remained apart from the other metals aloof and distant from the others as its sight provided insight that pushed them away and the gold was the furthest from it, as it too claimed purity of form and self as one of its possible paths, yet such was of a different intent and within thousands of pathways lay in wait for the master the chose and grow along. In the end it was simply a Dao of Potential ready to be shaped into another more completed form in time to come, ready to wait until that day arrives.

The seventh statue formed of grey iron, stood bathed in blood with sword in hand, armor thicker and greater than any that the clan had used for centuries gliding its form. Its body that of the ultimate warrior and yet, beneath such a prominent exterior, its interior spoke of the lie above. Nothing could ever grant the body or itself the power to charge forth into battle, yet it stood yearned for such a fate, dreaming of spilling of blood and the crack of bones, the tearing of flesh, thus it turned to another approach if it could not fight its battles it would empower others to take the toll of blood in its name. Energy the color of rusted iron flowed around the form and in visions of events impossible and possible, the watcher saw legions empowered by the rusted energy and charge headlong into the fray tearing asunder the enemies of the clan. Land after land fell to their march once more as the statue of Iron roared its fury to the uncaring heavens of the world daring them to strike it down in their fury. Pushing through any obstacle in its path through direct force, it care not for subtly or other such acts and so it had formed of its own a Dao of War that waited only the crucible of battle to temper and refine into a greater force, ready to bring the sword down upon the others of the world. Such determination, blurred the vision of the unreal realm as the singular purpose that the statue cleaved too, distorted all around it and so the vision soon left for the eight metal.

The eight statue was of a different nature than the others, it awaited refinement. It could become anything of the others as if it was empty of meaning, yet buried within the void lay meaning. A void of potential that awaited a call to respond and become something else, a Dao that could never be true unless another was built atop it, and yet it would only respond to one of the other paths for another metal. It would cleave only to another Dao path of another metal from within this room. Such a contradiction was grand, and yet sensible for this was the metal of the least, it bore nothing of note and even its strengths were less than the weaknesses of the other metals. Thus, the watcher's eyes drifted to the ninth and final segment of the unreal realm.

There only emptiness awaited his sight, as an empty pedestal awaited its statue. As he looked upon he knew in his heart that this was the pedestal of the boy's chosen Dao, the one unrestricted by the mutation of his bloodline. The one that would truly be his and so it was yet to form and so it lacked any presence within this room. As he looked upon the form, his mind greater than mortals understood the issue at hand, for without a ninth Dao the other eight were overloading his body and soon it would scale out of control for they would begin to cultivate independently of the boy and eventually shatter his body. Thus, he must reshape this realm to protect the child as his eyes drifted from the line of statues he saw in the center of the enneagon, an orb of emerald energy and with a faint smile stretched out a hand and the energy dispersed back into his body, leaving the child pure of such taint.

With the purging of his energy done, now he could use the unreal realm for another purpose. He had hoped that such was possible but never had he dreamed that he would gain such insight from this single artifact. By his calculations the use of this artifact and the knowledge that could be gleamed from this experience was more than worth the usage of several such treasures and to receive such insight from a single one was a coup of immense scale. For, his beyond mortal mind and Dao were already discovering ways to heal the Daos of those injured that never before would have considered and beyond such insights he now could see pathways beyond the obvious just waiting to be walked. Shaking his mind from such tantalizing dreams, he focused once more upon the task at hand.

With a wave of energy the enneagon shattered into nine shards of power, each a side becoming a shard ready to be remade anew under the guidance of his Dao and power. The unbalanced and unwieldy shape to be reforged into a new order ready to suffer and grow with time and skill, able to function and live. Life would be validated under his work and so the child would live a long life from his work of today within this unreal realm. The empty pedestal of the ninth and final Dao, the one of the child without limit was torn away from the wall of its nature and the metal that lay behind it was twisted and forged into a new form, supporting and empowering the empty pedestal. Eight openings made of paradoxical metal, formed at the base and the pedestal flared with power as the reforging continued under the power of the watcher. Until, in a second that was infinite, it was done. Eight openings waiting for the Daos of Metal to link into and support, arrays carved to direct power to help build the ninth and final Dao of the child from the energy of the others.

With the creation of the center the rest of the work could begin. Metal bent and warped as it flowed like water to a new order, losing height in favor of thickness the nature of the statues became refined and greater, even as the metal began to flow into the center of the new form. With a final push the grand work was completed as the eight metals fused into the center and with a release of breast the watcher and actor stepped back to observe the new room. No longer an unbalanced enneagon that would by its very nature overpower the child with its nature, instead now an octagon stood before his sight, each metal feeding into the child and order from chaos had been forged. The future of the child would no longer be in doubt and it was up to the child to progress further and move higher in realms, but such was possible now for him at the very least.

With a glance over the unreal room, the watcher closed his eyes and pushed himself from the place and when his eyes reopened he stood once more in the real world. The soul statue in hand changed, no longer chaotic in nature but instead energy flowed without hindrance dancing along the eight fold paths of his body. With a smile on his face Achelous pulled out a report and crossed out a note, to replace it with another. By his order the child would receive cultivation supplies, now that his bloodline mutation was understood by him and it was healed to a high degree. Yet, even so the child would need a teacher of high skill and power, so it seemed that Olivia would not be getting out of this job anytime soon, the man's smile twitched with humor at the thought.

As he left the room, he looked back at the child and wondered which path his Daos would push him down in time, but such was not to be decided any time soon and it was for him to chose the path. The only hope was that the child would have enough will power to forge nine fold Daos, and master his true might, if he could achieve such what wonders could he create in time.


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Finally this part of the story for Morgraine is done. I have been building to this point of revealing the truth of just how altered he truly is from other people due to the ritual.

Cool thing (I know that this is quite a bit different from the norm but its critical to the character): Nine Fold Daos - cultivates nine different Daos at once gaining nine fold power, but nine fold risk, is unable to achieve more than one Dao pillars per Dao, must go through 13th heaven step.

If the above is too different then just a normal Power increase.

@occipitallobe just making sure you see this

A banner year, Chu Yuzi thought.

He was an array engineer for the Clan, and word had come down from on high.

"Make money."

A simpler instruction could not be given, as the Clan began to give more contribution points for raw wealth, shifting focus away from training and the like to simply increase their funds.

Chu Yuzi was one of the younger Core Formation elders. Technically he was the second most-senior Array Engineer, but he didn't fuss with titles. He'd had enough of young Adephos' 'Grand Mechanikos, Grand Mechanikos!' whenever the (admittedly rather talented) boy wanted some piece of advice.

Only a trace of the Blood of Bronze remained within him, and he was merely more bronzed than most of his peers, his skin still pliable and weak. The bloodline was as thin as it might be possible for it to be, and he had lacked all talent in combat. At first, he had gone nowhere in the Clan, one of the worst Legionnaires known. In time, though, his talent had shone through. He was not the most gifted engineer, but he was the most passionate one.

He had spent the last six days neither eating not drinking - an excellent benefit of Core Formation cultivation! - and obsessing over a single array he was crafting. It was a marvellous thing, achievable only due to some small bone dust from a Nascent Soul, as well as a drop of bile from the spleen. He had spent massively, overdrawing his own Contribution Points, obsessing over this array for almost five years now.

It was done, though. Far faster than he had thought, far better than he had thought.

The Vile-Blood Searing Array was a magnificent work. For any Blood Path disciples below Nascent Soul, it would simply kill, searing them where they stood. Of course, it would need to be installed in a city, with plenty of Spirit Stones and available Qi to power it, and he doubted it would be at full power most of the time. However, it would make it truly impossible for a city to be infiltrated by Blood Path enemies, whether they were traitors or no.

The Grand Elder hadn't foreseen a success at this level, he could tell. They had already contracted to sell it to the Strength Purity Sect, at exorbitant price. If Old Gold had known that this array would be so powerful, well. He doubted it would've been sold. Still, his brilliance had been told to the Clan - his masterpiece had made more income than much of the Clan would in a decade, it being one of the best works the Clan had seen in centuries. It hurt to let it go, but the Contributions Points...

He began to drool. Imagine what he could make with all of those?

Array crafters have immense variability in wealth generation. On average Wealth generation adds 5 Wealth. This turn, gain 14 Wealth.

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Manuel frowned.

It seemed this was the default state of his face these days.

Oh, the money had poured in. Chu Yuzi had been offered a fine wife - he doubted the talent in carving arrays could be bred, but there were many women willing to marry a rich man, even one peculiar as he, and it hurt little to try. The man had simply stated that a woman of any kind would be betraying his true love, that of crafting arrays. Even a man, were they to raise a child together - but no. Yuzi was incorrigible on this matter. Not, Manuel thought, that he could speak to that matter.

If he married it would bring potential benefits, but he had chosen not to do so. For one with his little talent, anything distracting him from cultivation would have meant an end to his path, and he still felt this to be true. Selfish at first, and selfless now. When he had been a free spirit, it had been a wonderful choice, now he was tied down with a thousand responsibilities he started sometimes to wonder if a wife and children might be preferable to the constant task of stemming bleeding.

A messenger burst in - Desperate news from the south, apparently. He had heard that before, often the boys they had playing messenger did not understand the difference between a thousand deaths and ten thousand, or a reversal and a defeat.

He infused a sliver of will into the jade. The Devil Bees had faced Aikaterine on the field, and...

He put the jade down.

She had led a superior force in a superior way, from what he saw. The Devil Bees had sent ninety thousand to face her fifty in the field, a number most unfavorable for them. As the battle drew on, she had lost a mere thousand for ten, what seemed like tactics and courage winning the day over mere strategic mobility.

He didn't understand the maneuvers of the Devil Bees at first, and then he saw it.

A formation. A great spinning, whirling thing, Qi pouring from the many bees and their riders into something else. A crude thing, but if you did not know it was coming...

It would not work a second time, he knew. An easy formation to disrupt once you knew what you were seeing - but one only needed to gain one victory, sometimes. No doubt this was the key to their victories in the west, and it was the key to their victory here. Thousands on thousands of bee cultivators in the air, forming into a single black and bloodied stinger, shattering the shield of the great Hoplite facing them.

Not to destroy the Clan more generally, no.

The stinger flung itself directly into Aikaterine's torso, ripping her in twain. Leaving her with only two arms and part of her upper body intact, the rest held together by her shining golden armor. To her credit, she didn't weep or wail, but infused herself with Qi, shouting orders, ensuring the army retreated in good order, ensuring the chain of command was correctly passed down.

Two hours later she died, holding on throughout a poison Manuel believed might even be able to harm him.

The army had been harried on their way back to the Night Devil Fortress, and was still in some disarray, losing around ten thousand. They were hemmed in, without a commander, and the Devil Bees took full advantage.

While they were unable to seize any of the Wind Towers, or the Fortress itself, the Devil Bees took full advantage. The reinforcements Aikaterine had ordered had reached Great Hua Lake City, and it held. But in-between...

There had been eight smaller cities in the West, each a safe-haven for mortals and a place of peace in their own right. An endless storm of buzzing came upon them, and six fell. Little Jian was held due to the proximity to the Night Devils, and a man who described himself only as 'The Coward of the Fortress' led an impossible defense of Shuhu De, throwing back superior forces six times, and driving them off completely on the seventh.

Worse things had happened in his lifespan, it was true. But now he faced an emboldened enemy. The strategic calculus has not changed that much - with the forces streaming south, Manuel believed that the Hua Empire could be held, and victory could be won through simple attrition. Still, the matter required his intervention - on some level, at least.

[For an excellent in-person account of this battle, read Ferenike 12 - Terror or Horror? Part 1]

Your Protostrator is dead. The south is in disarray. What do you do?

[ ] Take Command - This will replace your Action for the turn and risk escalating the matter, as well as weaken you elsewhere. Still, you are the best commander in the Clan bar none, and you are confident that with your personal intervention the war will be easily won. Don't take the field directly, though - keep yourself off the field for a potential counterstrike against enemy Nascent Souls.

[ ] Take the Field - As Take Command, but do take the Field. If no Nascent Soul comes to oppose you, you can wrap this war up neatly and quickly. Very high risks of escalating to Nascent Soul combat, though.

[ ] Draft a new Protostrator - There are no true excellent candidates, but plenty who could be well-tempered. Get the best Core Formation Elder and raise them to Protostrator. You'll need to do this eventually, and this will give them plenty of experience. It is likely to draw out the war, though, and command will be difficult as they will need to accustom themselves to their new position mid-war.

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So this is an example of the Core Formation mechanic playing out - for those who are looking to aid the Clan in later omake. Aikaterine had an absolutely disastrous battle roll (meaning her death and massive >75% losses), however, as a Core Formation cultivator she was allowed to roll to try and mitigate one of these things. She rolled very well on this, and managed to salvage the army - but had to choose between attempting to save the army, and attempting to save her life. She chose the former, and succeeded in saving the Hua Empire.