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

[occipitallobe]

Manuel looked down on his Council, and sighed.

They were unused to their new quarters near the warfront to be, but he could not realistically counter Old Cannibal from the Clan's inner sanctum. Likewise, having his Elders able to assist him would be crucial. Old Cannibal might take advantage to strike deeply into his territory, but the other man knew Manuel had slivers of Nascent Will, and was more than willing to use them to prevent it. No, this was the optimal choice. Perhaps not the best, but he could not see the future, merely plan for it.

The Council moved sluggishly, paperwork high on desks and eyes flickering back and forth. They were united in the pursuit of a goal, now. Elders were normally primed for this, slowly brought into the inner circles and brought up so they'd find it easier to perform their duties without his input, but the new Council had been brought in quickly. Even now, they struggled a little.

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There are basically four main Mechanics in this quest.

(1) Choices. Your Clan Council will ask you to make a call on something. Mostly they won't do this - they're competent enough to handle things on their own, but sometimes they will. You'll see 0-2 of these per turn, on average. They're usually pretty straight-up binary choices.

(2) Focuses. You choose in general what the Clan should focus on for the next 20 years. Building up for war? Training new disciples? Carving more arrays? More trade? Focuses don't prevent you from doing everything else, it's more 'here's the one thing we should really get done'. Focuses are mainly mediated by your personal skill levels and specialities.

(3) Actions. What you, personally, do. Usually mediated by skills, but often by Cultivation level - especially when it comes to combat. You can always Write In Actions. In fact, writing in more complex and well-thought out Actions will positively increase your chances of success.

(4) Purchases. What wealth the Clan has, and what your Council want you to spend it on. They'll usually come to you with the thing they want most. No micromanagement, just 'here is the big-ticket item I want'. These will often (but not always) persist between turns. Wealth is expressed in terms of Years of Income Saved. You can take as many of these as you can pay for! Keep in mind, though, if you spend all your money, you won't have it in future for dire situations.

All voting is Plan Voting. Make a Plan if you want, or just vote on someone else's! You can vote on as many Plans as you like! Approval Voting, baby!

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No Voting Moratorium this time. Seeing how it impacts things.

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Manuel sat in the tent. Surrounded by arrays, hidden by his own Dao, and stuffed full of tables and chairs, the forty-year old tables they'd brought from the main Council chambers still offering protection against mental effects and poisons. It made it a little easier to check his Elders for mental corruption and subtle poisons without potentially activating them, and one had been caught already. An attempt to suborn Xinya from Old Cannibal, just a sliver of mental influence. Manuel had caught it, of course, but it was merely an opening gambit. Old Cannibal understood how important their organisation was. It was risky, moving the Council forward, but he needed to push his advantages hard.

Around sat his Councillors, some who were skilled and valuable pieces on the gameboard. Others were less unknowns. Twenty years ago, he merely hoped they'd be able to carry out their duties. Today, he was satisfied to call them useful. Not satisfactory - to say that they worked well together was an exaggeration, administration and disciples and intrigue all still finding the proper way to work with one another.

"Report."

Manuel's voice was clarion, ringing out not only through the Council chambers, but through the camp and the six Legions surrounding them. It inspired, stiffening spines and letting all who heard it know that there was power on their side, real and palpable. No matter how many screaming Cannibals surrounded them, they were the Clan, and no number of savages would tear them down.

He let a smile come to his lips. Mastering that little trick had taken four years of dedicated effort. Alexios had thought he wouldn't be able to do it, and it had been almost useless at a time. Now, though... well, he was glad he had it.

First was Casia Zimisce, a Late Core Formation cultivator. Rail-thin and severe-faced, she looked as though she had perpetually swallowed a lemon. Her intimidating posture and expression aside, once she spoke one wouldn't pay attention to them, as she set everyone around her at ease. Casia was Stratopedarches, or in more common terms, the Elder of Administration. To her fell the duties of managing mines, herbs, cities, camps - all manner of resources flowed through her hands. In the last twenty years she had spent much time developing her staff, and simply trying to make the Contribution Board run. She had done an admirable job.

"Archegetes. Obviously in terms of wealth things have gone reasonably well. We have nine million Spirit stavraton saved, though we are poorer than I might like. Strength Purity has offered us a loan on fairly favorable terms, given our circumstances. Ten million stavraton, in return for a permanent reduction in their fees on the Scorpion Road. I estimate a loss of one million or so stavraton every two decades. Under ordinary terms this would be a foolish thing to accept, but we may need the wealth for the war."

[ ] Take the Loan. Permanent -1 Wealth per turn, +10 Wealth now.

[ ] Don't

Currently the Clan has 9 Wealth (+0 from last turn. +15 from income, -1 from inefficiency penalty, -5 from hired Core Formation mercenaries).

Second was Kleisthenes Sarantapechos, a Mid Core Formation Elder. Dead Euphrosyne's twin sister, though less talented in cultivation. She cultivated a rare Yang attribute technique, and went by a male name, and wore a male body to aid in her cultivation. For her, if she had not cultivated her Yang technique - she never would have risen into Core Formation. Such a thing was uncommon among your Clan, but not unknown. She is the Hetaireiarches, or in common terms, the Elder of Diplomacy. To her fell the duties of managing external powers and other Nascent Souls. She often complained about her lack of talent, and she and Manuel were reasonable friends. This friendship had suffered with her sister's death, however. In recent years, Manuel and she have had dinner a few times, slowly trying to rebuild a badly damaged relationship.

"Archegetes. Our relations with Strength Purity Sect have strengthened again over the last few decades. It is difficult to get intelligence reports at the moment, but our erstwhile allies are willing to give us news of their battles. The Great Battlefield has been put in favor of the Righteous Path, as Strength Purity push into Demonic Altar territory. A massive column of Altar troops are marching west, to the Flower and Arrow Sect. The Strength Purity troops are unable to follow, and are hoping on their allies to be able to defend themselves. A risky maneuver, and if it pays off the Demonic Altar will seize the intiative once more. The Siege remains broken, and the Noble Knowledge Sect are spreading some manner of poison clouds that transform mortals into murderous zombies in the surrounding lands. An early estimate is that they have killed between ten and fifteen million mortals in the last decade."

Third was Xie Xinya, a Mid Core Formation Elder. She is beautiful, long black hair framing an oval face. Her lips glossy and eyes rouged, she was certainly the cultivator on the Council who cared most about her appearance. Manuel missed Euphrosyne - that old woman had never hesitated to argue with him or call him a fool, and there were precious few who would. But dwelling on his failures won no battles. She is the Parakoimomenos, or in common terms, the Elder of Intrigue. Previously you held her position. Hopefully, Xinya can achieve some fraction of what Nikephoros did. To her falls the duties of espionage, sabotage, and assassination.

"Archegetes. Things are.. indecisive. I don't think we're going to see much of an information war now. Too many troops. I've pulled a lot of my informants back, and I'm building my forces in the places I can hold them. I'm aiming to push two cities into open revolt, but whether I succeed will remain to be seen. Most of my other spies in Cannibal territory are dead. I spent a lot of lives to build a sort of map. One of the northern cities, Fu Tong... it's impenetrable. I don't know what's happening there, but anyone I send there dies."

Fourth came Destasia Duca, an Early Core Formation Elder. She is Chartoularios Tou Kanikleiou, or in simpler terms, the Master of Disciples. She picks out good seeds, gives training and assistance, and manages the core of the Clan Contribution Board for Qi Condensation and Foundation Building disciples in times of peace. She is flighty, friendly, and happy, and is well-known for her eyes she can use to befuddle or poison her enemies with, as well as her... unique approach to both life and cultivation.

"Archegetes. I am excited, happy, and having a good time! My disciples are not! Plenty of training for them, hah!"

Manuel frowned.

"And your results, Destasia?"

"Hmm... I'd say we're training at eighty percent efficiency? No, eighty-five. Eighty-three, maybe. Lots of new Qi Disciples, and people ascending all over the place! Did you hear about the Callista girl? What an amazing 13th Heavenstage breakthrough! I know you denied my application to dissect her and see what makes her tick, but-"

"No."

"Well, not to worry then. Plenty of new Elders from last time, and I think we're doing well. Maybe. Well, it depends on your definition of well. Less disciples are dying than when I started, though. Hardly any of them crippled in training!"

Lastly was Heraclius Staurakius, a Great Circle Core Formation Elder. He is Protostrator, leader of your armies. One of your precious Core Formation cultivators in the Great Circle, Heraclius has stalled cultivation-wise. He is an exceptional commander, but he is old. At 960, he will only be capable of command for another 40 years or so - and this due to a Lifespan Treasure. Unless some miracle happens, however, he is the best commander available by a significant margin, and the most experienced, but taking him on as a commander will mean replacing him before too long - discontinuity of command is where the Legions are the weakest. You may need to use a second Treasure if the war continues, and you have few enough of those stored up.

Heraclius speaks, a gravelled voice coming from a throat that had been cut more than once.

"Archegetes. You are aware of our warplans. A primary defense in the Burnished Crags, with wings spreading out to the Xin Kingdom and north to our core territories to protect our supply lines. A rock that our enemies will crash upon and break. There is little more to discuss strategically. Tactically, I believe we have an excellent disposition and some powerful and flexible options to defeat our enemies. I hope to provide a favorable battle with Old Cannibal if it is possible."

You clench your jaw, and think.

-----------
Currently the Clan has 9 Wealth.

The Clan will gain 15 Income, and lose 1 to Inefficiency for a total Income of 14 next turn.
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What should the Clan focus on? (Outside of the war, which is of course your primary focus)

[ ] Building Bridges (Write-in target) - You should make more allies. Choose a target on the map and aim to have their relations with you increased. Give gifts, exchange assistance, aim for strategic marriages.

[ ] Intrigue (Write-in target) - You should learn about another clan entirely. Spend Spirit Stones like water in the plains and find out everything you can. Strengths. Weaknesses, places to strike, rebels, and so on and so forth.

[ ] Raiding (Write-in target) - Better to weaken an enemy. Send teams of cultivators to go raid an enemy for resources and to kill them where possible. Minor conflicts, with minor rewards. At best, you can seize minor territorial gains. This will worsen your relations, of course. Gains widely variable Wealth (0-10, excluding crits). May seize territory and gain Income in extreme cases. Loses Cultivators - around 5,000 Qi Condensation cultivators, 50 Foundation Establishment cultivators, and potentially 1 Core Formation Elder.

[ ] War (Write-in target) - Simply invade. Strike with all your might and seize territory. Kill cultivators. Requires your personal attention to prevent Nascent Souls simply obliterating your forces. Uses your personal Action for the turn. War will open a set of new sub-turns.

[ ] Increasing Wealth - More trade, more mines, more growth. Aim to find more Spirit Stones, tax more from traders, whatever works to increase your Clan Wealth. Increases Wealth by an average of 5.

[ ] Training Soldiers - Raising Disciples to higher Realms is all well and good, but training them to be perfect members of Formations is better. Ensure your Clan is trained and ready for war. Your readiness to go to war will increase significantly, though this fades over time.

[ ] Fortifying (Write-in territory, ally or vassal) - Spend Clan manpower and soldiers to build new fortifications against outside enemies. New Arrays, help train new cultivators in lesser Formations to defend their lands, and so on. Will also strengthen a vassal or ally if chosen, and increase relations with them. Increases defenses in the chosen territory, ally, or vassal.

[ ] Write-in

What will you do? (Note. If Old Cannibal surfaces you will need to abandon your personal Action to go deal with him.)

[ ] Hunt An Enemy (Write-In) - Why not? Hunt down enemies, see if you can kill someone. Usually used against an opposing Nascent Soul. Potentially very dangerous.

[ ] Weaken An Enemy (Write-In Faction) - Choose a faction, and use your Nascent Soul strength to simply sneak in and do damage. A little underhanded and shameful, but what do you care for the views of the Righteous Path? Potentially dangerous.

[ ] Assist A Faction (Write-in Faction) - Use your personal strength to assist an ally of some kind. Potentially dangerous.

[ ] Economic Activity - Carve arrays, scribe useful cultivation techniques onto scrolls, hunt down useful opportunities that might be dangerous to a Core Formation Elder. Make some money for the Clan.

[ ] Lecturing - You can simply lecture your many juniors on cultivation. Spend your time helping them grow, using less resources and ensuring better growth for the Clan.

[ ] Write-in

Purchases:

We have 9 Wealth saved. The Clan cannot go into debt (normally, though you do have an option to borrow here!) - you can only spend what you have!

Casia Zimisce wants to...

[ ] Hire Strength Purity Foundation Mercenaries (5 Wealth)

"Archegetes, the Scorpion Road is only so defensible. As we pull troops south, the Strength Purity Sect is willing to assist us further. I am not sure what their overall aim is, and no doubt it involves making us reliant on them diplomatically, but for a reasonable sum we can protect our trade from any deep strikes the Cannibals may perform."'

Kleisthenes Sarantapechos wants to...

[ ] Offer Jingshen Scorpion Road Tribute Reductions (5 Wealth)

"Archegetes, Old Jingshen has been rumbling. If he sees a weakness... well, I'm not sure he'll strike, but I'd sure as the Hells like to have something to dangle in front of him and take away if he did. I know it's a waste of wealth, but they can likely be bought off for a decade or two with some tariff reductions, and those are likely to be the pivotal ones."

Xie Xinya wants to...

[ ] Empower the Golden Eye Array to See Inside Fu Tong (11 Wealth)

"I know, we'd need to borrow money. But I can't get any spies in there, and the levels of protection mean the Array can't power through. I estimate we'd need eleven million stavraton worth of spiritual energy to break through, but if we can see what Old Cannibal has there... it might just be a honeypot designed to steal our wealth, but it might be crucial."

Destasia Duca wants to...

[ ] Attempt to improve the Technique Palace (14 Wealth)

"Archegetes, I'm pretty sure... ninety percent sure I can fuse the Technique Palace with a piece of hateful Nascent Will I carved off from a dead Nascent Owl. Only a tiny piece, and I've got it contained! Using the wisdom of the owl with the- well, to get to the point I think I could let our cultivators in Foundation Establishment use the Palace. Big longterm improvement, yeah? The Will isn't stable, though, so it'll disintegrate soon enough. Sorry, I know it's not a great time, but... ninety percent! That's a huge chance!"

Heraclius Staurakius wants to...

[ ] Build the Ten Thousand Forts (5 Wealth)

"Archegetes, I have been reading several reports of Strength Purity doctrine. One of their doctrines is to establish many small forts - we do something similar, but these are specifically designed to allow weaker cultivators to fight off Blood Path attackers, hiding before coming out to savage the enemy from the rear. Each can only sustain a single cultivator, but if they are not broken open by a Foundation cultivator over a few weeks, or a Core Elder over an hour or two, they will remain a thorn in the enemy's side. I am hoping to litter our northern supply lines with such forts in order to properly secure them, and ensure any deep strikes are punished."

 

[occipitallobe]

Missions are now available on the Omake Rewards sheet!

Select a Mission for your Good Seed (or don't, and get a more generic Fate). This turn we'll be starting out with three, and they're all more generic. For now, if a Legion-leading Good Seed picks a mission, their Legion can just come along. In future I'll look to have specific Missions headed by Good Seeds to really make the story work, but for now it'll be the more basic version.

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Welcome to the public terminal of the Contribution Points Board, Legionnaire.

Select mission... finding past missions relevant to your present power and skillset for research purposes...

Three missions found. Listing follows. Please note all information is private, and must not be released to outsiders.

Jin Fulong's Caravan:

It was in the early days of the war with the Cannibals that the Southern Caravan Route was set up. Normally the sheer weight of Spirit Stones, array pieces, herbs, pills, weapons and other sundries did not make their way south. With the bulk of the Optimatoi in the south, though,, much more materiel needed to be moved to support the war-front. In the early days of the war, the Clan aimed to build a massive, in-depth front of fortifications named the Ten Thousand Forts. To be able With mobile Legions and powerful cultivators ranging far and wide to protect the caravans, the Cannibals were aiming to break these lines and prevent the fortifications. One caravan in particular, led by Jin Fulong found itself balanced on the precipice of failure. Carrying valuable array-carving tools to assist in the defensive effort, it nearly fell multiple times, until...

The Siege of Three Frog City

Three Frog City. Eighty thousand people, and slightly out of the way. Named after the three Spotted Toad Frogs who were slain near where it was founded, the city was only moderately fortified, and even less important. Used as a training ground for soldiers recruited into the Clan and deployed to the front lines, it was only a minor piece of the Clan's strategy. After all, as it did not sit on any major trade routes nor was exposed to any easy attacks, it was a surprise to the Clan when a major Cannibal force besieged the city. Descending on the city ravenously, they were aiming to crack the walls and consume every mortal within before the Clan could respond. Only a few scattered Clan forces were gathered there, and they held mightily. Still, the numbers did not favour them, and the Cannibals were greedy for the slaughter. The walls were attacked, and...

The Growling Dervishes

Some of the most frustrating forces in the war were the Cannibal irregulars. Oh, they were all irregular in a sense, but those that were trained to strike into back lines, effective at slaughtering mortals, and moving from place to place. It was in the Xin Kingdom that the Dervishes first attacked. Unlike the normal irregulars, the Dervishes were dedicated to a single goal. They destroyed useful arrays, their half-dog forms enabling them to shrug off damage and regenerate at tremendous speed. The Dervishes were deployed against a minor node of the Golden Eye Array. The defense was scraped-together and desperate, for with the loss of that part of the Array the ability of the Clan to accurately aim the Glass Spear at enemies striking deep into Xin Kingdom territory would be degraded. No forces could be shaken loose to destroy the maneuverable enemies. Rather, the Clan would have to make do with what they had. In the end, the array-node was...

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A reiteration for those who haven't seen it. Missions are the new format in which I generate Fates (to get a number of characters together on a mission and write something that fits them all in, vaguely), and the more characters on a Mission (and the higher their effective cultivation) the more likely it is to succeed. None of these are crucial - a minor city, a single moderately important caravan, a minor node of the Golden Eye Array - but not losing them is definitely better than losing them. Feel free to assign yourself to whatever you find interesting or set up some strategic distribution of Good Seeds, whichever you prefer!

Fates haven't changed mechanically at all, it's just how I write up the stories.

Lastly.

For characters who are of effective strength greater or equal than Late Foundation Establishment (5-pillar) as found here, you have another option open this turn. Help the Clan is something you can write in your Turn Notes. If you do, your Fate no longer offers delightful rewards for rolling well - no more Impact and Cultivation bonuses - but instead assist the Clan in completing the Mission you've chosen. Your bonus increases exponentially as your roll does - rolling a 100 with a 50% Fate bonus from omake is multiples more effective than rolling a 100 with no Fate bonus from omake. That means sacrificing a good roll (especially on a turn with lots of omake) can let you do some crazy stuff. As an aside, Missions are not capped in terms of success. If you over-succeed, your over-achieving Good Seeds will go find some more problems the Clan has and fix them. Aggressively. So there's no way to 'waste' such a bonus.

Any questions, please ask here or in the Discord!

 

[occipitallobe]

Nicara swore.

"Idiot! Bumbling fool of a mortal! What did you think you were doing, touching that rune?"

Her hands itched to slap the woman's face, but she knew the mortal wouldn't survive. A slight blonde-haired slip of a girl cowering in fear of her just made her feel bad. Still, the mortals had been told. No going near the walls, no touching any runes on the walls. Stay within the protective confines of the walls and maybe they'd be able to stop the fucking Blood Path eating them all.

She stared the girl in the eye again. How old could the mortal be? Forty? Fifty? She saw the lines of age on the girl's face, and some grey in her hair. A stripling, really.

She sighed.

"Get back in the village. If I see you within ten paces of the walls again I'll have you strapped, bare-bottomed in front of the entire city. Understood?"

"Yes, mighty lord."

Nicara shook her head. The Burnished Crags had been the immediate battleground. The Clan had deployed nearly a hundred and twenty thousand Qi Condensation Disciples to the Crags, knowing it'd be the most important battleground. The north was far better defended - and more difficult for the Cannibals to assault. Not to mention the constant flow of trade from other powers to the Oasis meant Old Cannibal was rightly concerned about killing someone important and bringing vengeance down upon his head.

The opening thrust of the war had gone more-or-less as expected.

A massive strike into the Burnished Crags and Xin Kingdom. She hadn't heard how the latter was doing. Of course, there were fewer weakspots in the Xin Kingdom, and less cities full of mortals to be cracked open and eaten.

She had been deployed to help fill out Jin Muyi's ranks, on loan from the 303rd. She had been delayed. Nothing improper, but hunting down a bandit in the same realm - Late Foundation Establishment - was no small feat. A mere two months delay usually wouldn't mean much, and the kill would protect thousands of people in the north while she went south.

On the way south, though, she'd stopped over at Perepolis. A minor city of thirty thousand or so, and she was there with perhaps a thousand cultivators. A day later eight thousand Cannibals had settled in for a siege - they'd ravaged the outer city and killed five or six thousand mortals before she'd been able to organise a proper evacuation into the city proper. They'd come in like lightning, and she'd lost almost fifty of her disciples just retreating into the core of the city.

She smoothed over the map of the city she'd procured, and looked down at her position.

Displeased, she grunted.

"Legionnaire Flavia. Ever find out who the hell was meant to be in charge of Perepolis?"

The larger woman looked over at her with a forced smile.

Honestly, she appreciated Flavia. Nicara stood over six foot, and while she didn't regret fusing Giant Monkey Muscle Scorpion venom into her body, it did make her stand out rather dramatically. Flavia was three inches taller, and while she was willowy and alluring, at least everyone stared at Flavia first. It was nice to have to shout to be the centre of attention.

"Prefect... I apologise, but..."

Even Flavia's voice was pretty! Honestly, she'd never make it into Foundation Establishment that way. If you weren't willing to make sacrifices, you usually didn't make it very far.

She had a choice, when it came to serving. Both Callista's new Legion and Muyi's had needed some extra staff. She hadn't hesitated before choosing Muyi. Oh, the Callista girl - woman, she corrected herself, as anyone who could likely kill you in a single blow was a woman - was powerful, but she was too perfect. Immense talent, best in a century, yes, yes. The weird tree-man understood, though. Sometimes you weren't good enough, so you sacrificed parts of yourself and sliced and cut and sewed until you were in the shape of something that was. Maybe that meant becoming a horrifying tree monster, or maybe it meant drilling scorpion venom into your bones during your tribulation to make your body impossibly tough. She hadn't realised that she'd look like some grotesque parody of a bodybuilder until afterwards. Well, no matter. No matter that pretty women like Flavia no longer looked at her with any sort of desire, she had the power to change things. To fight and win against the Cannibals here. If she did, it'll all be worth it.

The other woman's still hadn't spoken.

"Out with it, Legionnaire."

'You were, Prefect."

Ah.

She shook her head.

"Fuck."

Flavia remained silent.

"Well, I'll pay for it one way or another. I made a choice and it killed some people. Saved some others. Still, right now we're needing to save the rest, eh?"

She elbowed Flavia in the ribs.

Flavia winced, and stepped back.

Ah, right. Legionnaires who had so little Bronze Blood... Nicara sighed.

"Did I hurt you, Legionnaire?"

Flavia shook her head.

"Just some bruises, Legate. Apologies, I didn't mean-"

"Don't apologise, soldier. My mistake. Now, we're surrounded, outnumbered eight to one. How are the Artillery Arrays holding up?"

The Artillery Arrays were the work of some artificer in the north. They weren't very impressive as arrays went, all things considered. However, they could link into other targeting arrays and fire a decent distance at enemies. It was why the Cannibals hadn't simply moved on from Perepolis. Oh, they'd tried, but every time they had tried to disengage Flavia had taken her eight Foundation Establishment Centurions, run out, and killed a few hundred of them with Array support. As soon the Cannibals turned around to attack them, she used the Arrays to cover her retreat, and slipped back into the city.

A better-disciplined force would've left a covering force to maintain the siege and headed further in, but she suspected none of the Cannibals were willing to simply sit and weather artillery fire when they could be slaughtering mortals, and none of them were willing to head further into Clan territory without a rearguard.

Not for the first time, she thanked the Imperator that the power and growth of the Cannibals was in no way matched by their ability to work together.

A loud horn rang out.

"To arms! To arms!"

Nicara sped up, the world seemingly slowing to a crawl as she moved at lightning speed, leaping from house to roof to wall in fragments of a second.

Legionnaires tended to think that Foundation Establishment Experts moved at maximum speed all the time, but the energy costs weren't small. Better to live in normal time and move at speed only when desperately needed.

She leapt onto the wall, to be met by two snarling Blood Path Cannibals, five dead Legionnaires at their feet atop the walls.

The first was a tiny man, standing only half her height. He had two wooden legs, and arms far too large for him sewn onto his body. The legs were festooned with runes, and his eyes spun madly, his sight clearly coming from elsewhere.

The second was a gorgeous woman, bedecked in red. Nicara pointedly tried not to notice her breasts, and then her curves, and- who wore a dress into battle? Was she playing to some absurd archetype for morale's sake?

While that thought echoed in her skull, she shot out a single fist, and found the man matched it with a single arm-blow, almost casually.

He spoke.

"I am Xie Paulos, slut. You will be honoured to die by my hand."

She cursed, and flung a kick at the woman in red. Her leg was caught suddenly, and Nicara winced. Two in the Great Circle, almost certainly. They both grabbed onto her, Paulos wrestling her in a few swift motions so she was restrained, the woman standing in front of her, a large knife with blood-red veins running along it. Nicara was restrained, and ready for some sort of Blood Path implement to be used to kill her.

Nicara grinned. Just where she wanted them.

She whistled, and bronze Hoplites came into being from nowhere, six of them surrounding the Cannibal duo.

The next part... she hated this part.

She roared, her muscles bulging, her hair striped with gold amidst the black, hair growing on her body until she was covered with a pelt of ape fur. From her buttocks emerged a massive scorpion stinger, nearly half her height. The tail lashed out, nearly stabbing the woman in red.

"You think you could take Xie Konstantia by surprise, you-"

With a loud hurk from her mouth, a Hoplite spear emerged from the woman in red's front. Nicara's tail lashed again, stinger slamming into the woman's eye. Damn, but that was a shame. Why did all the cutest ones have to be crazy Blood Path monsters?

Paulos had her restrained, true, but the balance of strength had drastically changed. With a simple blow, he went falling back. He threw some... salt? That couldn't be right, Nicara thought. It flashed for a moment, and Paulos reappeared a few hundred metres away, safe within the Cannibal lines.

Hoplites stood up on the wall in many places, spears shimmering and Foundation experts running about below, killing any Blood Path disciples who happened to get inside the walls. The Cannibals had probably lost three or four hundred with this latest assault. Scanning over her own troops... probably less than ten. With the benefit of walls, arrays, and superior co-ordination, only an overwhelming assault that broke those factors was likely to kill an appreciable number of her troops.

If they were willing to press the assault while the Clan were weak... she laughed, and picking up a spear, hurled it at Paulos. It missed, impaling a nearby Cannibal.

No, it was rare that Cannibals were courageous enough to do that. If they did, they'd inflict some casualties. If the Cannibals would simply disregard their own lives and go over the breach as one, well... that'd be the end. She chuckled. Lucky that was unlikely.

She descended the walls, feeling the hair continue to grow.

Twenty minutes later she reunited with Flavia.

"Legionnaire. Bring me a mirror and the soulsteel razor."

"Why?"

Nicara cursed.

"You think this monkey hair comes off on its own? No, I'm in for a long night of shaving. That, or fleas, and trust me when I say I've been on enough campaigns to know what I prefer."

Flavia schooled her expression well, but Nicara knew that there was definitely no attraction there now. Ah, well. Maybe she'd get a chance to banter some with the next pretty Cannibal she met before she killed her.

 

[occipitallobe]

Aurelia ran.

Her bare feet bled on the rocks, as she leapt from one boulder to another, running up the bare mountain path.

Claws shimmered by her head, missing by a hair.

Tears ran out of her eyes.

She was scared.

"Cassia...", she whispered.

They were all dead. All but her.

Thirteen of the Imperator's finest, led by a False Core Formation Expert, Julius Wang.

She closed her eyes for a moment, blinking to get the blood and tears out.

A screech came from above, and the claws again.

"Please, no. No."

She had to climb. Had to get there.

It had started out so gloriously. Thirteen heroes on a vital infiltration mission, to drop off an important runic array on one of the floating islands in Cannibal territory. They'd made it barely a hundred li in before they were found, scattering to the winds. Aurelia was the fastest, so they'd given her the array.

She'd seen Julius die as she ran, a beast of a woman with claws for hands and eyes protruding from stalks ripping him apart, eating him as he screamed and bled and died.

Magne, Decima, Romulus... they'd kept together where they could, and each of them had bought her time, or served as a distraction.

"You're the fastest, Aurelia. And you're not very strong."

She whimpered as she ducked, a claw lazily swinging where her head had been. It was toying with her, now.

She was the fastest, though. Now the others were dead.

By the time they'd reached the aptly-named Terror Sky Island and used the floating barrel to rise up to it, there had only been her and Cassia left.

Then came the owl.

She had never been scared of birds, to tell the truth. Scorpions and insects, yes. But birds? Usually they were vultures, or crows, or other scavengers, unwilling to hunt down a cultivator, often serving as guides to where battles had been and bandits could be sought.

Now she was scared of birds.

The beast was huge, standing ten times her height. As they had leapt out of the barrel, it had awoken, and torn Cassia in half. Two quick gulps and it had swallowed her.

As if to punctuate her thoughts, a pellet of bone was spat out, landing mere centimetres away. She shuddered, and continued running.

Almost there. Almost to the top of the mountain atop the floating island. She leapt away, and a wing smashed into her, smashing her into the air.

Terrifying wingbeats sounded through the dark, the owl coming for her.

She bit her tongue, and spat out a gobbet of blood.

"Light unveiled, blood burning!"

It was hard to manage the chant with a profusely bleeding tongue, but she managed it. Nearly half her remaining qi went into a blinding light, directed at the owl.

She saw it for the first time. It was massive. Majestic. Terrifying. Like the small barn owls she had seen once in a cage, but thousands of times bigger. Its claws were a shining green as though they were carved from jade, and its feathers were pearlescent as the light shimmered across them. Its eyes were filled with wisdom, though it was not wisdom turned to her benefit. She understood.

"If I leave... you'll let me live?"

The owl nodded gravely, still blinded by the light.

She spat out another mouthful of blood - no qi this time, just the unfortunate effect of biting one's tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"Sorry. I can't."

It hooted at her mournfully, and rose back up to its full height.

As it did, Aurelia turned, and ran.

Fingers slippery with sweat, she grasped onto the tiny rune-array she had been given. She didn't even know what it did, only how to activate it.

A few more steps, and the claws flashed out again.

She screamed.

Her leg went flying, and she clawed up desperately, over the lip of what was in truth a caldera. Inside sat a small lake, and Aurelia shuddered.

She pressed the little red button marked "PRESS" on the little runic box, and threw with all her might.

The owl swooped down towards the box, and Aurelia spat one more mouthful of blood. Light burned in the sky, flame and light and blood mixing together to form an attack sufficiently powerful to drive even the owl off for a moment.

With a plop, the box settled into the lake.

As the massive bird bore down on her once more, Aurelia didn't think about the mission. Not about her dead friends, or about her family, or her husband.

All she could think was please.

"Please," she muttered.

"Please. I don't want to die."

The claws flashed down one last time.








Slowly - ever so slowly - the island began to turn.

 

[occipitallobe]

Twenty thousand Golden Devils, arrayed across the field in formation. Resplendent in bronze armour, they marched forward, valiant.

Manuel let a smirk cross his face.

Against them stood nearly a hundred thousand Cannibals. A tremendous part of their fighting force, and a massive one committed here to tie up huge numbers of Golden Devil forces to ensure that the defenses elsewhere needed to be stripped.

Not an especially cunning strategy, but it would've been workable.

He felt the motion in his mind, calculated the angles.

"Yes, old enemy. It would've been workable."

This was Old Cannibal's truest disadvantage. Manuel had been granted nearly a century to build traps, to plan and plot and weave against an enemy to come. He understood, as all sensible men did, that victory was not a matter of a single clever plan. Rather, a hundred components of clever plans, each useful in their own right, each deployed only when it was useful.

"The spine-pig knows but one thing, but the fox knows nine, one for each of her tails."

Yes, a fool put all their faith in a single plan. A fool, or a desperate man.

Manuel was hardly desperate, for all this was an unfortunate set of circumstances. Sun Diaxiang was no fool, but he was constrained. Spending the effort to circumvent his defenses around his little trap... well, it had been worth it. When you were losing, you put your faith in high-risk, high-value gambles. If you lost, well, you were going to lose anyway, but if you won, victory became possible.

Conversely, he gambled in smaller ways - at least here. A hundred little gambles along the border, each of them capable of paying off quite nicely. It didn't matter if he lost a few, as they were of limited value.

Now, it seemed, one of his many gambles was going to pay off.

A hundred thousand Cannibals.

A number not beyond imagining, but certainly beyond the power of the Clan who were set to face them.

No doubt some were asking why Old Gold had sent them to die, why they had been chosen to be the sacrificial piece.

Manuel's smirk became wider, and split into something resembling a smile. His face was lined with wrinkles that often made him look kind, but now accentuated the cruel expression he wore.

The Cannibals had not attacked yet. Oh, they'd probed for the last week. They had largely gathered into a camp, preparing for battle. Debating, no doubt, fighting over who was to be sent in first.

No matter.

He rose up into the air, and let his spiritual sense expand in a way he had not done in years. Any nearby Nascent Soul would feel it - any Nascent Soul within hundreds of li would feel it. But then, that was what he was counting on.

He felt the sense sweep over the Cannibals below.

"Blood Path always have such petty souls," he mused.

"Probably something to do with the speed of their growth.

He pulsed, a wave of raw spiritual force slamming out from him. Invisible and unstoppable, it swept out, only the lightest of force, the tiniest of backlashes filtering back to the Clan. None of his would die, but he suspected more than a few Qi Condensation disciples were going to have horrendous headaches for the next few days.

Below, Cannibals were collapsing. One died of an aneurysm immediately, others found blood streaming from their nose and eyeballs, some stronger in Qi Condensation were merely rendered unconscious.

In mere moments, the better part of ten thousand cultivators died.

Manuel waited a few moments.

"Not coming out, Diaxiang? Fine. I'll slaughter your disciples until even a coward like you feels shamed enough to come face me!"

He sliced out with his cleaver, projecting another wave of spiritual force. This one was shaped like a blade, carving into souls below. The raw force of it shattered meridians and crippled cultivators, leaving the dead and spiritually maimed in its path. He swung again, again, and again.

It had been nearly five minutes.

He looked down at the Cannibal camp, the little ants on the ground running about so furiously. He was assiduously killing those who ran first, to ensure he didn't miss any. Strands of soulstuff meandered over the battlefield, plucking fleeing disciples as an ordinary man might pluck a fruit, bodies vacated in moments, left bereft of all function and power.

Ten thousand.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Such a slaughter was unthinkable. Oh, Diaxiang might be elsewhere, but there was nowhere else worth taking for Old Cannibal. Not to the same value. No, he would need to...

Manuel smiled, as a furious figure flew through the sky, obsidian spear in one hand, bloody banner in the other.

"Xiang'er!", Manuel exclaimed. "You got my invititation! Truly, I was worried you might not."

The other man looked infuriated. Terrified, no doubt as well. After all, this wasn't how you were supposed to fight as a Nascent Soul, not unless you possessed an overwhelming advantage.

"Fuck you, you piece of shit. Shut up and die. Then your Clan, too."

Manuel let the smile dance across his lips even further.

"Verbose. Did you ever consider giving speaking less-"

The spear darted forward, and Manuel dodged.

What had moments before been a slaughter became a battle, Cannibal forces fleeing in all directions as Old Cannibal and Old Gold clashed in the sky.

One a creature of bronze and shadow, the other all blood-red and flesh-pale, marked only by the inky blackness of the obsidians spear.

Manuel breathed out, countering a spear-strike with his cleaver again. Sun Diaxiang was a touch faster than him, a little more skilled in open combat. Certainly his better in raw endurance. Why, he would've had to have been a fool to pick this fight. That had to terrify Old Cannibal.

A moment longer.

Just a moment longer...

Old Cannibal cursed.

"I know you figured out my plan in Fu Tong. Some clever counter to it, no doubt. Turning the force aside? Well, doesn't matter. Lure me out, force me to use it? Lose twenty thousand for twenty thousand?"

The other man's tone was questioning, curious.

Manuel shook his head.

"It was tremendously clever, gathering that much Light Qi. I have no idea how you got it, or how you bound it. The only possibility I could think of was you harvested it from the calcified Dao of a Spirit Severing Ancestor of some sort? A work of genius, honestly. If I'd looked at it directly with my Dao... well, I think you might have won this war outright. And if I hadn't found a way to look at it, you could've used it on me, and won this fight."

Old Cannibal grinned.

"So? I don't need Fu Tong to win this fight. I can beat you down just fine myself. Even if you've sabotaged it somehow, or countered it, it won't do anything to me. Worst case for me is we fight, you old bastard. Me and you, and then I kill you."

His eyes danced with anticipation.

"Heaven, I've wanted to kill you for centuries, you know. The idea of tearing apart your delectable corpse, feasting on it while my disciples rape and burn their way through your precious little Dawn Fortress... it's been a dream of mine for almost as long as I've known you. Do you remember when I almost killed you that time in the Seven Hundred Spear Cavern?"

Manuel smiled.

"I do. Do you remember the time I turned one of your own traps against you and almost killed you?'

Old Cannibal swept down with his spear, lazily stabbing at Manuel, trying to tire him out. The man was still probing, still trying to figure out what tricks Manuel had up his sleeve.

"Ah, Emperor Peafowl City. The Jiang boy alerted you, if I recall. That was hardly you turning the trap against me."

"No, no."

"The Limestone Forge? You really think that was my trap?"

Manuel's smile split into a wide grin.

"At Fu Tong, Diaxiang."

Old Cannibal froze for a moment.

Thousands of li away, an island swept across the sky, interposing itself perfectly, if only temporarily, between the sun and an array built in the better part of the city.

An eclipse.

"Did you know Alexios built an entire portable array for me? Designed to counter the use of a Dao of Light if one ever appeared, to give me some breathing room against my natural enemy. A gift for ascending into Nascent Soul."

Manuel frowned.

"Then he died, and soon after almost everyone else I cared about died. You, though, still live."

He felt it. The raw energy flowing through him. The darkness that didn't just conceal, but consumed. The all-consuming wrath of Heaven transmuted, turned away from the sun. Cast into Shadow.

The eclipse spread, as Manuel felt the power of a massive array redirected into him. The world slowed, and ripples of shadow bloomed around him.

He moved, cleaver swinging out.

Old Cannibal blocked the cleaver with his spear, and Manuel's other hand found itself inside Old Cannibal's sleeve, and from there his immortal aperture. Oh, it wasn't really possible, but possibility became blurred as one advanced in the Dao. Perhaps not normally, but enhanced as he was by an array built by Old Cannibal to kill him, with all of its power turned in his favor for a single moment, it was made possible.

The things most hidden could be revealed, could be stolen by a thief in the night.

With a single movement of his hand, Manuel drew out a shard of blood-red crystal.

He smiled, and put it away.

The cleaver came down again, but this time Old Cannibal blocked his thieving hand. The power was gone - such an effect could not be replicated, but the other man didn't know that.

As the cleaver bit into an arm, Old Cannibal writhed and warped, and exploded. A massive gout of flesh and blood erupted where he had once been, leaving nothing intact.

Manuel raised an eyebrow. He didn't even know what sort of lifesaving item that was. The other man wasn't dead, but... teleportation? Revival? Reversal of injuries? He wasn't sure.

Still.

He doubted Old Cannibal would be contesting the battlefield today.

He turned his attention back to the hapless Cannibal army.

This was how war should be. His enemies dying, his people safe and content behind high walls and powerful arrays.

His smile didn't stop. Oh, they'd lost fine disciples for this. Spent money, borrowed money, and taken risks beyond the sensible, but it had paid off.

He flew down, waves of forces crashing down on the remaining Cannibal troops. He doubted he could kill all of them, but fifty thousand was a realistic goal. No need to have the troops exert themselves. Besides, this way he could simply be indiscriminate, and that would hasten the process.

He turned to the grisly work of the day. It was hours later when the looting began, bewildered troops wandering over tens of thousands of corpses. No battles fought, or lives lost.

Well.

He looked down at a shattered Cannibal, the woman begging for help. He could sense her meridians shattered, her strength reduced to that of a weak mortal.

No lives that mattered.

 

[occipitallobe]

Three years.

Zhang Wenling had been stuck in this fort for three years!

The Seafort was not the most important entry into the Xin Kingdom, but it was the one she guarded. Oh, she knew she wasn't really in charge, but it was her fort!

She looked across the water. Only ten Cannibals that she could see.

Ten was enough, though. Hulking men with pustules of hardened blood attached to their backs, traipsing merrily across her lands, murdering her peasants.

Oh, the Golden Devils had 'sent help'. A few hundred to stiffen the defenses, but the line of forts had been seen as secondary. After all, they were unlikely to fall, and even if they did, the Towers served as a fallback line. Ultimately, she knew her people just didn't matter that much.

Occasionally the Devils would sally out, but Centurion Evangelicus kept telling her about how it was important to retain a 'force-in-being', prattling on about doctrine and strategy as more and more Cannibals flooded into the Xin Kingdom. She suspected they were just told to hold the forts, and damn the kingdom.

Gods, but they were fast. Strong, too. She was a Water Sorcerer of the Third Tier, capable of summoning water-spirits and beasts in forms powerful enough to slay her enemies, creating armour of ice and water, and using her element to full advantage in so many cases. Against her lessers she could even arouse the power of the water in blood, turning it against the owner of said blood. Still, it didn't matter. Not when those from the Golden Devils could simply ignore her attacks, charging over with ten times the strength and twice the speed. The power of the elements were worthy, she knew, but she was unworthy of them.

The Seafort was a gorgeous place, built from stone and wood, with summoned ice blocking holes that had been blown in the walls several times in the course of the war. Along the walls were carved figures of dragons and turtles, qilin and firebirds alike. Engravings and carvings surrounded it, and even the courtyards were paved with fine-cut marble, polished to a sheen. Five years of war had tarnished it, but could not detract from the beauty fully.

Her efforts kept it whole. Would keep it whole for centuries to come, even. The Xin Kingdom wasn't strong, but it would survive, and one day...

She let her mind wander.

One day, she'd be head of the Water Tower, and she'd bring elementalism back to the glory it deserved!

Over the horizon, a figure flickered in the distance. She could barely see it.

A bird?

Perhaps a cultivator with a flying item?

It grew larger as it approached. Yes, that was definitely the figure of a man.

It carried a spear, and while the man seemed unassuming, the spear was like something out of a storybook. It sucked in light around it, the very reverse of an ominous glow. Simply looking at it for a moment or two made her feel despair, and she shuddered.

How was the man flying? She had no notion of how she could accomplish it with sorcery, and she had never heard anything but outlandish tales of cultivators flying.

She stared up at the sky, and-

The world was rent in two, space tearing and sound screeching as the spear wavered for but a moment. Had he struck with it? She hadn't even been able to follow the attack! It was nearly instanteous.

A massive crack in the wall of the Seafort, and a moment later the sound became unbearable, the sound of screaming and screeching, as though someone were being tortured. Babbling came from around her, and streams of black acid pooled in the courtyard, eating through marble, bubbling into the ground. Hundreds of years of work undone in mere instants.

She saw another man rise into the air, and for a desperate moment thought that they were safe.

Then she saw in struggle. Strong, cowardly Evangelicus. He clawed at the air, as though straining against some invisible hand.

The man in the sky looked at him briefly, and motioned.

Evangelicus burst. There was no better way to describe it, blood and bone streaming down from the sky.

The man looked down at her, and she froze. She couldn't even think. She felt like a rabbit, waiting for the hawk to descend, unable to move as the fear crept up through her legs and arms. The paralyzing fear of death fused with a sort of manic calm, the certainty of death meaning there was no need to worry.

Then he was gone.

She was alive.

She breathed, looking around. That had taken less than a minute. How could they even hope to win the war when the enemy had cultivators like that?

The walls were rent, the acid pools growing, of all things, black creatures rising from the pools, burbling and moaning as they lurched towards the corpses of those slain, hungry from their birthing.

Wenling took one more breath.

She would never call Evangelicus a coward again, as a disc of water appeared under her, flinging her over the walls to safety. Two tentacles of water from her waterskin grasped her and let her down gently outside the fort, and she began running.

To hell with the war! The Golden Devils were welcome to their enemies, and she... she was leaving. Surely there'd be room for her somewhere else.

One of the hulking men from the Cannibal siege approached, leering. He leapt at her - he was so fast. He was a blur of motion, and she was barely able to do anything in time - there was certainly no chance to dodge.

Still, Wenling hadn't lived as long as she had by being incompetent. With a flick of her finger, rotating blades of water spun up around her. He leapt, grasping at her, and as he did found himself sliced, muscles severed and bone hacked at. He fell down, and Wenling kept running. Killing and dying? The hells with that! She was retreating as far as she could from this madness. If that meant leaving the Xin Kingdom, so be it. She'd stop by the Water Tower and try and convince a few acolytes to leave with her, try and organise a full evacuation if she could.

She wasn't going to sacrifice herself, but she wasn't leaving anyone to that monster, not if she didn't have to.

 

[occipitallobe]

To speak of the war as a foregone conclusion was common.

Manuel didn't feel that way. Old Cannibal had been popping up here and then, savaging forts, destroying towns. Nothing irreparable, just... enough that Manuel couldn't easily counter him. He responded by simply disappearing, hiding to force Old Cannibal to risk his wrath on any given attack.

It had worked well enough, and the war had ground into a sort of stalemate. Of course, for the Cannibals, a stalemate was a loss in the end. His forces hadn't begun to conquer anything of note, though the damage to the Xin Kingdom had been considerable.

A war he had expected to continue for decades was drawing to a close, merely eleven years in. The Cannibals couldn't afford to gather en masse to shatter cities or major fortifications, and so they raided, picking at caravans, levelling villages, burning towns. People died, but not in the numbers needed to sustain a massive boost to the enemy, and all across the front mortals gathered into cities. Massive snaking caravans found their way south, carrying endless supplies of Spirit Stones, the loans from the Strength Purity Sect

For the last eleven years, he had done two things. Cultivated, and studied the blood-red jewel he had seized from Old Cannibal.

He still couldn't fathom it. Oh, spending a hundred years to contemplate a truly powerful object wasn't unthinkable, but he couldn't even begin to understand what this was. It seemed to be a simple crystal for all intents and purposes, faceted a few times by a master jeweller. He had flaked the tiniest amount off with his dagger, gathering a sample for study.

The backlash had levelled the compound he was in. If he hadn't insisted to have all the other cultivators off-site, they would've been dead. If he'd done it in a city... Manuel shuddered. Whatever it was, it was more than powerful enough to kill him if he shattered it, or so he suspected. And it was so vulnerable, not hard like you would expect. A single forceful blow from a mortal would shatter the thing.

He'd done the obvious thing, and hid it in his aperture where that couldn't happen.

Was it simply a weapon? He had a feeling that was incorrect, but no way to study it further.

It was shortly after that event that a letter came to him by way of the Jingshen Clan.

"An invitation to stop this most horrific violence, and bring peace to the sands."

Written in finest calligraphy, stamped with Old Jingshen's personal seal, glittering cinnabar-coloured paste from a high-grade Spirit Stone marking the letter as opulently his.

He had been invited to the centre of the three powers, where the Strength Purity Sect would guarantee a neutral meeting ground.

Worrisome.

The Oasis...

Manuel hadn't been there before. Still, he doubted Old Cannibal had sufficient traps there, and if he could confirm Old Jingshen's location there, it was unlikely that he would stoop to a trap. Or at least, it was unlikely he would stoop to allying openly with Old Cannibal, and that was the more important thing.

He doubted he could refuse. Old Jingshen would take it poorly, and no doubt whatever trap he had set up - diplomatic, of course - would close its jaws around him one way or another. Personally, he suspected the man just wanted to prevent him from seizing all the Cannibal lands. He would be sensible to do so. Despite being the poorest third of the desert, the Cannibal Sect still held sufficient lands that taking them would double the power of the Optimatoi in the long run, and make them far more powerful in relation to not only the Jingshen, but his own vassals and lesser allies as well.

Once that happened, with a force of powerful Core Formation elders and a possible Early Nascent Soul, Manuel would never need to fight the Jingshen. Simply turn the screws on them, increasing tariffs and levies and taxes one by one until they became isolated and desperately weak. That sort of supremacy was almost sure to come if Old Jingshen let him seize the entirety of Cannibal lands, which is why it would never happen.

He scoffed.

If the Clan took half of the Cannibal lands, he'd be happy. Two-thirds, and he'd be ecstatic. Even a third each, with a neutral third would open up a great many possibilities.

He sent a reply. Personally, he enjoyed cloaking the letters themselves in darkness, occluded in secrets to all but the intended reader. It was a rather arrogant way of signing one's messages, but it served to authenticate them well enough. He would have to go. If he didn't, who knows what they might decide in his absence?

- - - - - - - -

Tisamenos woke up, a bucket of water dumped unceremoniously on his head.

He had been drunk, but to be fair he'd been on leave! Four days, and this was only the first! He'd come back from a village they'd gone to rescue, but... the Cannibals had gotten there first. He knew it was to shake their morale, but what they'd left there had made him vomit, and then made him want to get drunk. He wasn't a coward, but even bandits only raped and murdered. Even Blood Path bandits weren't that bad. He wasn't made for this. He wasn't a hero, or a great cultivator. Water dripped down around his ears, and his head rang with the three bottles of cactus brandy he'd had last night... that he remembered having last night.

"You the scribe?"

He looked blearily up.

"Tisamenos, scribe of the Miracle of Pleuron?"

He nodded, and shook his head, water pouring off it.

Dirty washwater. Delightful.

"Old man wants you for his little get-together. Needs a scribe, and you're the best one at hand. Get up, we're going."

With horror, he realised the man who had poured water on his head was a Foundation Building Expert. Tisamenos had reached the Ninth Heavenstage, but the gulf between them...

"The old man?"

A short, sharp bark of a laugh.

"Manuel Konstantinos. Who else?"

Tisamenos looked at the man uncomprehendingly.

Who in the name of the Imperator was Manuel-

Oh.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed back onto the ground. As drunken hallucinations went, this was one he would be glad to sleep off.

 

[occipitallobe]

Tisamenos looked over his shoulder nervously.

For the thirty-first time this hour, he counted.

Five Nascent Souls in one place was not unheard of, but it was the sort of meeting that only happened every few centuries. He hadn't even had time to take in the sights of the Spirit Oasis.

He'd been desperately hard at work, after all, scribing everything. Heaps of recording crystals, annotated notes from Old Gold, and his own transcripts to ensure accuracy... it had been hellish. And this was only the prelimary talks!

Eight months ago he'd been thrown in front of Grand Elder Konstantinos, and he'd sobered up quickly. Apparently his name had gone around as a 'scribe with a flair for the dramatic'. He had no idea that his notes - "The Indomitable Thirteen and the Miracle at Pleuron" - had become so popular! Oh, he'd redrafted them a few times, removing less important details and obscuring a few of the key facts around the items and cultivation techniques of the Thirteen, ensuring no truly important information could be inferred, and he had rewritten the dialogues in several points.

He'd been careful not to impute any words to anyone if they hadn't said them, but it turns out if you wanted an inspiring work you just had to cut the twenty minutes Ferenike had spent lecturing on good latrine management.

She had been doing well. She wrote him letters, which was a surprise. He had answered, but it took years these days for letters to reach him, and so they exchanged words very slowly.

Perhaps that was for the best. Spending too much time with someone you idolized couldn't be good for your development.

Still. The fact that enterprising mortals had cut his notes up into three sections, badged each one as a novel, another had rewritten it as a stage play... it was a tremendously popular work. He hadn't bothered putting it on the Contribution Board as his own, and so he didn't get anything from it, but they did attribute him for writing it. Over the last few decades it had become something of a staple of the Clan, performed on stage after tragedies, a comedy to soothe any grief from the former.

Somehow that'd found him seized - well, volunteered - and taken to the Spirit Oasis to write up the accounts of a negotiation with the varied powers gathered there.

He'd thought he'd be one of a grand retinue, Core Formation elders and Foundation Establishment experts in their tens and hundreds showing off the power of the Clan.

Instead, it was just him and Old Gold.

Next to him sat the retinue from the Jingshen Clan. Eight Core Formation elders, two hundred and sixty four Foundation Establishment experts, and all sorts of Qi Condensation servants pouring in and out of the massive atrium they sat in.

The Grand Elder had insisted that each party to the talks get given an equal space to prepare before entering, and so to his left sat hundreds of wounded experts from the Strength Purity Sect, to his right the flower of the Jingshen Clan. Over the other side sat a single terrifying old man - Old Cannibal.

The Grand Elder had walked up to him and greeted him by name. Tisamenos had felt the Cannibal's flicker of anger - the mere fact of his emotion left him feeling unsteady and nauseous for days after.

The central plaza was a gorgeous place. The atrium they were in was a massive, gorgeous set of gardens. They were roofed over by glass, flowers spilling from vines that climbed to the sky, bushes and small trees dotting the ground. Several paths of smooth obsidian ran along the ground, kept clean by the constant effort of mortal gardeners, who came and went, sweeping and tending and climbing at all times to ensure the gardens were well-maintained. The massive atrium was surrounded by the fortress that overlooked the Spirit Oasis, a tremendous construct nearly six li squared.

At the very centre of the garden sat an odeon in the style of the Clan - a theatre well-built and roofed, seemingly constructed for the purposes of acoustics. He had asked one of the mortals, and they'd said that there were trained singers who came here to sing most days, as wounded cultivators sought to calm their unsettled spirits in the peaceful environment with beautiful songs. It was that odeon that had been made into a meeting-place.

Manuel appeared in front of him.

Tisamenos had grown used to this. It wasn't that the Grand Elder was trying to humiliate him, merely that Nascent Souls moved far too quickly for the eye to catch. They flickered on occasion, and Tisamenos's original terror had turned to a dull ache of quiet fear. After all, if they wanted him dead, he'd simply die. The reality that there was nothing he could do had been terrifying at first, but now it allowed him to sleep - there was no reason to spend overmuch effort guarding himself.

"Tisamenos. We're entering to talk."

Manuel flickered away, and moments later he saw five Nascent Souls sitting in the centre of the odeon, a small table and set of chairs placed for their convenience. He blinked. None of them had been there half a second ago!

As he entered, the scribes from the other factions did as well.

Five Nascent Souls.

The old, worn face and bronzed skin of Old Gold.

The writhing flesh, the squirming and seething beneath the skin that belied the otherwise handsome face of Old Cannibal.

The red skin and baldness of Lady Jiao.

Old Jingshen, a man rarely spoken of and less rarely seen. He stood a mere four feet tall, and looked more like a shrivelled up prune than a human being. His face was merely a set of constant wrinkles, glimmering red eyes peeking out of an ancient, creaking body.

Lastly was Elder Glorious Strike, having named herself in the style of the Strength Purity Sect. A badly wounded Nascent Soul in the Early stage, she was beautiful. Not in the sense that Tisamenos felt attraction - a crush on a Nascent Soul made as much sense as falling in love with a volcano - but in the sense that her face and limbs were perfect, like works of art. She looked almost inhuman such was her perfection, as though some artist's pure idea of a human being brought to life rather than the messy reality of being alive.

Old Jingshen spoke.

"Alright. We know why we're here. Old Cannibal, you're getting the shit kicked out of you by Konstantinos. Normally I'd join forces with him to kill you, but his interests threaten mine more than yours do, so we need to come to terms. I presume we all have proposals, so let's start there."

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[ ] All that is necessary for evil to succeed...

"Is for you to do nothing as I flee to the Devil Bees."

Old Cannibal had met Manuel weeks beforehand, ensuring their isolation from all others.

"You've won, I'll grant you that much. I'm not fool enough to fight you to the death unless I really have to. So, send me to the Devil Bees. Three favours from you to help me seize power there. In return, I'll try and kill that little whore from the Jingshen Clan, really rile her father up. He's not much a fighter, and that weakness will let you seize my old territories. Then, you let me and my disciples cross your land - take a fake wound or something - I even take out your other enemies. Win-win, really. Oh, you know I loathe you and I'll try and kill you again a few centuries, but you'll be twice as strong."

++ Gain a considerable portion of former Cannibal lands - if Old Cannibal can kill Lady Jiao you could expect to get 70-80% of the lands, if he fails probably 50-60%.
+ Could potentially weaken your new largest rival massively.
- If the Jingshen find out a difference in interests is likely to become a feud. The chances are small immediately, but in the long-term the risk is higher.
- Empowering an enemy who hates you to take over another power is dangerous in the long run.
- Will end the Devil Bee Civil War in favour of Old Cannibal.

[ ] The New Sect

Old Jingshen spoke.

"We cannot of course let one power seize all this land. Let the Golden Devils have their due, and perhaps a quarter or a third of the Cannibal land. In return, the remainder of the land shall be granted to a new Righteous Sect, the Spirit Oasis Sect. We shall set up a new Sect in the desert, one under the auspice of the Strength Purity Sect."

+ Changes the balance of power moderately towards you
+ The new Sect will be appointed and built by the Strength Purity Sect, who are favourable towards you
- The new Sect is likely to oppose any seizure of Jingshen lands
- The best parts of Cannibal land remain with the new Sect
- Old Cannibal is permitted to go to the Devil Bees.

[ ] The Negotiated End

Manuel spoke.

"Perhaps a simpler solution. Old Cannibal is permitted to flee, provided he does not enter the Desert again for two hundred years. The Jingshen Clan and I shall negotiate over the territory remaining, some going to them, other parts to us. "

+ Gain a portion of the former Cannibal lands
- Gain only a portion of the former Cannibal lands, depends on negotiations with the Jingshen
+/- Opens a second round of negotiations to determine who gets what.

[ ] War to the Knife

Old Cannibal started up, and Manuel spoke over him, ruthlessly.

"Of course, we could continue fighting. I killed one Nascent Soul from the Cannibal Sect, what is another?"

+ Winning rids you of an enemy.
+ Cool as hell
- Winning still inflicts massive harm on the Clan
- You're unlikely to be in any shape to seize any land, even if you win.

[ ] What are the qualities of a righteous man? (Can only be taken with "Walk in the Light, Cloaked by Shadow" option from the following post)

Elder Glorious Strike spoke, her voice as perfect and inhuman as the rest of her.

"Why should we fight? Perhaps it is time that the Golden Devils shake loose their devilish bonds. They have proven to be allies of the Righteous Path more often than not lately, and it is well known that their allegiance to the darker ways comes from desperation rather than from true Demonic nature. I come bearing an offer. We shall rehabilitate the Golden Devils, integrate them into the Righteous Path, and win a victory for all the Region. Let the Devils gain what they have won, and in return we shall enforce reasonable tariffs on the Scorpion Road between the new Righteous Powers.

+++ Gain the entirety of Cannibal Territory
++ Old Cannibal is hunted down like an animal by you, the Jingshen, and Strength Purity Sect. Very likely to wipe out an enemy entirely.
+/- The Golden Devils are integrated into the Righteous Path, and this means considerably less latitude on what the Clan can do. It does mean more protection, however - less upside risk but also considerably less downside risk.
- A moderate reduction in combat strength as many formerly available techniques will be restricted. Still much more powerful than a Righteous Clan would be in your situation, however.
- Integration into the Righteous Path means assisting other Righteous Powers, meaning the Clan will be expected to deploy considerable numbers of troops to the war in the Great Battlefield.
- A major reduction in tariffs on the Scorpion Road.
- Costs the incredible bonus you got from writing a million omake words collectively - without Fate itself assisting you this could never be possible.

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Voting is not yet open. Please wait for the following post prior to making plans.

 

[occipitallobe]

A fragment.

It woke up, feeling something calling. Someone?

It didn't know. Surrounded by burning, terrible light. Always the light.

It wasn't awake, or aware, not really.

Still.

In the tiniest fragment of the weakest world, it felt something. A frisson of pleasure ran through it, of long-denied power.

Yes.

Power.

It couldn't look, couldn't see, couldn't feel anything else.

The light burned, but it knew... it could cloak something. Guard something from the light. It grasped out blindly, eager to spend the shard of power before the light evaporated it.

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Welcome to your reward for literally writing enough to shift the Heavens! One million words of omake!

[ ] Blind the Thief

The thief. Stealing, always stealing. The spirits, thieved away, the stones, hauled away. The veins bleeding in the wrong places, the air growing thin. Blind the thief. Let it not see. Let it act no more. Let the wealth flow.

[ ] Step into the Light

The old man. So weak, so loyal. The last strand of a web connecting it to the world. So easily exhausted when seen. Strengthen. No more shall the light tire the man of shadows. He shall stand in combat as a peer to all who serve the burning horrid light.

[ ] Cloak the Ways Between

Those who stepped between worlds, who walked the path of slaughter. It couldn't hide the world, but it could twist the space, make it harder to get to. More expensive, more difficult. Less of the worldwalkers shall come to burn out the servants of shadow. Protect them, hide them, cloak them. Weaken the butchers, snuff out their torches as they hunted in the dark.

[ ] Even Lightning comes from a Cloud

Heaven burns with righteous wrath as the invaders seek to seize strength, lightning from a clear sky. Now the lightning must come from clouds, and the clouds shall cloak them. As they seize power Heaven shall prove still their enemy, but less so. Let them rise up. Let them all rise, like clouds rising from the earth to shadow all things.

[ ] Walk in the Light, Cloaked by Shadow (Can only be taken in conjunction with "What are the qualities of a righteous man?" from the prior post)

Fate grinds, the hatred of the light burns. Let it be turned away from the children of shadows, let those who stand in the light hate them no longer.

Not all curses or weakness are removed. Some are merely downgraded. As a rough guide, however, each bonus is worth approximately 2 Shinies in terms of power from the early game Clan construction.

 

[occipitallobe]

The negotiations had been tense.

Short, but tense.

Manuel had spoken first.

"I think a seventy-thirty split is fair. After all, we won the war - to give thirty percent is giving our friends in the Jingshen Clan great face."

Old Jingshen raised a single eyebrow.

"Won the war? What cities have you taken? What land do you hold? If I choose to send my clan south, we shall secure easily the majority of the territory. Don't speak to me of past victories, speak to me of what you can take and hold."

Things, Tisamenos felt, should have degenerated from there.

Instead Old Gold simply smiled.

'I suppose that is true. Yet to take the land you must hold it, and if I do not concede it to you, can you hold it against me? Are you truly so eager to fight?"

Old Jingshen frowned.

"I doubt that's your bottom line. Glorious Strike, I can offer the revenues from all the lands we gain for five hundred years if you rule in our favour and cede eighty percent to us."

The mood turned black.

For all her inhuman beauty, Lady Glorious Strike's face turned remarkably ugly in a moment.

Before she could speak, Manuel interjected.

"Surely my esteemed friend from the Jingshen Clan did not mean to openly impugn the honour of the Strength Purity Sect? After all, it is their famed reputation for neutrality as trusted mediators that has led to much of their pre-eminence in the world. I myself would never suggest that your Sect would act in the slighest way untoward, Elder Glorious Strike."

The grimace resolved itself, and she smiled. Tisamenos felt she probably wasn't used to do so.

"Grand Elder Jingshen meant no offense, Grand Elder Konstantinos. It was merely a..."

She lapsed into thought for a second.

"...set of poorly chosen words. Can you not forgive his mistake."

The very soul of courtesy, Manuel inclined his head.

"Of course. After all, it is so easy to make a mistake. I forgive you, Elder Jingshen."

The other man's face flickered only for a moment, but even Tisamenos caught the angered look.

He thought, again, someone would explode, but the topic returned again to the negotiation of benefits.

He sat there writing for nearly two hours as they spoke, the Nascent Souls going over the distribution of benefits. Old Cannibal glowered in the corner, presumably not permitted to leave. Over that time, Tisamenos saw the shape of three possible proposals emerge.

Tisamenos could feel them all dancing about them, each proposal gaining and losing traction in their turn. In the end, they agreed on...

[ ] The Simple Split

Manuel negotiated well, and nearly forty percent of the territory would go to him. Forty would go to the Jingshen Clan - though it was likely they would grant almost all of it to a series of minor vassals - and twenty to a buffer of neutral powers in-between. The neutral powers in question would be formed from mortals taught cultivation in the Cannibal lands, and would permitted to develop for five hundred years without interference, though this would not be enforced via a binding oath. It was undeniable that the Jingshen were taking land to deny it to the Golden Devils - Tisamenos doubted they got all that much out of it. A simple split, with little complication.

+ Straightforward, no complications.
+ A large buffer zone, no raids from the Jingshen likely.
+ Represents a rough 1.8x increase of your potential cultivator population in the long run, though this will be Wealth-neutral - the Cannibal lands are the poorest part of the desert and oversee no major trade.
+ Makes you far more powerful relative to your vassals.
- The smallest amount of land on offer

[ ] The Stork Bloodline Clans

The Gemstone Justice Sect had faced massive damage to both its core interests and to many of the subsidiary Clans who served it. Three of them, Longevity Stork Clan, Fecundity Stork Clan, and Fortune Stork Clan were originally part of a greater whole under the Guan Clan, a major vassal of the Gemstone Justice Sect. Under this proposal, the Golden Devils would gain sixty percent of the territory and the Jingshen would take only thirty, but of that sixty - half - or a full thirty percent of the former Cannibal lands would go to the Stork Bloodline Clans, who would pledge themselves to the Golden Devils as vassals. They would technically be considered demonic, but being Clans who focused mainly on trading and various magics they were unlikely to see battle either way. These Clans were completely devastated and would be generations if not centuries in recovery, but their current lands in the Great Battlefield had been pillaged so many times there was virtually nothing left. As virtuous merchants who had worked hard to help fund the war against the Demonic Altar Sect, this would be remuneration from the Righteous Path for their sacrifices.

+ Aids relations with Strength Purity
+ A massive amount of land overall with no additional benefit to the Jingshen.
+ Gain Clans focused on various sorts of longevity, fecundity, and luck magic, as well as trading. Useful assets to have in your pocket in the long run.
+ Immigrants from the Stork Bloodline Clans will mean your land is up and running more quickly.
- Less land going to you, representing a rough 1.5x increase of your potential cultivator population in the long-run, though Wealth-neutral.
- A smaller buffer zone, raids might occur if the Jingshen decide to raid.
- Half your new land goes to new vassals, keeps you at rough parity relative to all your vassals.

[ ] The Scorpion Gamble

Perhaps it was merely a gamble, or perhaps it represented something more, but Old Jingshen offered an eighty-twenty split in Manuel's favour, in return for a one hundred and twenty years cessation of tolls and tariffs on the Scorpion Road. While this would devastate the Clan's income in the short-term, in the long-term it represented a massive increase of strength for the Clan. If the Jingshen could bring about their plan to dominate the desert in that time, it would mean the end of the Clan. If they couldn't however, it would mean their dominance in the Desert forever!

+ A massive gain of land. Represents a roughly 2.5x increase of your potential cultivator population in the long run, though this will be Wealth-neutral.
+ Makes you tremendously dominant compared to your vassals. In the long run they won't be able to act out of line.
- Zero buffer zone. Raids can occur more easily.
- A loss of 10 Wealth per turn for 6 turns. Total of 60 Wealth loss, though this is a good price for those lands...
- If this pushes the Jingshen over the edge to gaining a third Nascent Soul, you might lose everything. High-risk.