Chapter 357: Interludes Gamma

The Verdant River sect was one of the most prestigious in all the Southern Rivers, acknowledged as one of the Great Rivers worthy of the name. It had vast holdings across the south, including great treasures, rich fields, and qi-rich forests.

And yet, as their patriarch ventured to the great city, he did so as a supplicant.

There was one unquestionably dominant power within the entire Southern Rivers region: the Masterful Crown clan. Their estates were yet larger, their power unchallenged, the Great Rivers nothing but their tributaries. The great palace atop the highest cliffs of Floodisle City was a paradise unto itself, towering over even the wealthiest districts, with its great balcony hall looking out over the entire city and even the entire region.

When the patriarch entered, he was welcomed, of course. The patriarch of the Verdant River sect was an essential part of their strength, and one of the most powerful cultivators in the Southern Rivers. Yet he swallowed when it came time for him to present his report to the great Patriarch Yul of the Masterful Crown clan.

"The Loam of the Gods is still the greatest Insanity on the continent," the Verdant River patriarch said, his voice very dry. "But we can only use it to create extraordinary qi pills at carefully prepared times of year. If you truly want more of the immortality elixir, I fear it will require a great deal of time..."

"Yes, about that." Patriarch Yul waved his sleeve, encouraging another group forward. "My son has been examining your new elixir, even taken some himself, and is not impressed."

"That's right!" Yul Wei Ren, the heir to the entire Masterful Crown clan and thus all of the Southern Rivers, stepped forward and spat. "It tastes awful, for one. I've gotten a lot stronger with an immortal body, but cultivation is even more obnoxious than before. If this is the best the Loam of the Gods can do, is it really an Insanity? Doesn't seem like much compared to the Impossible Elixir!"

The patriarch of the Verdant River sect went pale and his pupils constricted. He was a Sky Soul, and a formidable one, but here in the heart of Masterful Clan power, if Patriarch Yul decided against him... it would not be a fortunate turn.

"Forgive me for any foul taste, young master." The Verdant River patriarch bowed deeply. "If we had known someone as important as you was going to taste it, we would have made the immortality elixir more palatable."

 Patriarch Yul loved his son with indulgence and judgment in turn, having raised the young master into a spoiled terror in silk pants. The boy was incredibly weak, far beneath the Verdant River patriarch's own heir, yet his position alone was enough that he would never want for anything or fear anyone. In fact, it looks like the patriarch of the once illustrious Deepriver sect was serving has his bodyguard. If Patriarch Yul sided with his son...

"Bear with such minor trials, my son," Patriarch Yul said with a wave of his hand. "Previously we discussed increasing production... can you do so even further?"

"We can try, Patriarch Yul." The Verdant River sect had already been trying their hardest just to hide the truth, but he had no choice but to spin the facts as best he could. "We have actually consulted with an expert from the Coiling Island sect, all the way from the Heavenly Mountains and Lakes. We should be able to improve the elixirs further, but of course, preserving the sacred potency of the Loam of the Gods is paramount."

"Hmm, very well. Son! You will go with them and use our clan's resources to increase production. They need someone they can trust more than these outsiders."

"Father!" Yul Wei Ren leapt to his feet, for the first time realizing that his privileged existence might be interrupted by having to do real work. "I don't-"

"Go, I said! Return once you have proved yourself!"

Patriarch Yul hurled a slip of jade, one that had been bathed in his incredible qi for many days. The power of teleportation was one of the reasons he was so feared... along with his clan's great Masterful Crown technique, of course. When the jade ruptured on the ground, it unleashed a swirl of qi that would draw anyone in it away to a pre-decided point.

That swirl encompassed Yul Wei Ren, his bodyguard, and a few of his servants. The patriarch of the Verdant River sect looked toward his leader and gave a nod, then stepped into the swirling qi. A long time ago, the two of them had fought together to secure their dominance in the Southern Rivers, but that time of camaraderie had passed. Now he served.

In a twisting instant they emerged in the far south, not far from the Verdant River sect. The old man allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief: Patriarch Yul had not taken his son's side, this time, and instead sent him off. Yul Wei Ren was likely to be a thorn in his side, but it was better than execution.

Of course, both of them faced the same central truth. The Verdant River sect's patriarch, one of the most powerful men in the Southern Rivers, looked toward the gardens where the Loam of the Gods waited and shivered.

.

..

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The Palace of the Rotten Queen was not a single place - she owned a thousand palaces, all of them nothing but real estate except when she was in residence. Rumormongers disagreed about whether she carried any of her ornaments along with her or whether each palace was filled with riches that remained cold and silent in her absence. If anyone had tried to raid one of her palaces and lived, they wisely kept their mouth shut.

Warriors fought and even killed for invitations to attend the slightest event at the Palace of the Rotten Queen. Gaining her attention could lead to death or worse, but being on the periphery of her court could alter the course of one's life. No one would dare attempt to falsify one of the invitations, which prevented the Rotten Queen's aura from destroying arrivals.

Except that day a woman without an invitation glided in, piercing through the aura, ignoring the weapons and other attacks firing on her.

When the Final Maiden touched down in one of the landing courtyards, her presence instantly gripped everyone watching in a stranglehold. Those strong enough to resist were frozen by the idea that two of the most powerful cultivators ever to exist might soon be coming into conflict.

"Must you do this?" the Final Maiden asked conversationally. Silence stretched in the courtyard before a low voice answered her.

"Very well, then. You may come speak with me."

So the Final Maiden walked past the guards and through the Rotten Queen's outer garden. The paths were lined with statues, some carved by the finest craftsmen on a thousand worlds and others breathing in a living death. All were exquisite examples of the human form, with only a few examples of non-humanoid species, and many subgroups of humans not accounted for. Judging from the lurid positions many had been bent into, rumors of the Rotten Queen's proclivities were true.

At the end of the path lay the entrance to the Rotten Queen's inner chamber, currently being vacated by her playthings. The interior was swathed in jade, gold, and fine silk, items so potent that their price would not have simply bankrupted the treasuries of some entire kingdoms, their mere presence would have destroyed them.

The Final Maiden floated through until she hovered in front of the great throne upon which the Rotten Queen sat. The sovereign herself was even more ornamented than the rest of the chamber, from her clothes to her crown to her face that needed no cosmetics but was covered in them anyway.

"Are you impressed?" the Rotten Queen asked with a languid wave of her hand. "I've never bothered to visit your little planet, so I don't know if you've already acquired such things."

"I lack some of this, but my world contains wealth unfamiliar to you." The Final Maiden spoke calmly despite the presence bearing down on her. "This is not a social visit. What do you know of the abyss that all notable powers fought over on Detriton?"

"All the impetuous powers," the Rotten Queen said with a curl of her lips. "Those of us with more experience know that these rumors of great treasure in a Thin Zone are always myths. All that excitement over nothing."

"It wasn't a Thin Zone. The region was weaker than anywhere I've personally seen, but I believe it contained real souls."

The Rotten Queen sighed and lowered her head onto one hand. "Be that as it may, the answer is unchanged. You'll not find any real power sorting through that pile of junk. The only thing notable about Detriton is its unnatural size."

"But not everyone has agreed, and the battle itself is evidence. Someone created an abyss far beyond the capabilities of its inhabitants."

"Some of the ancestral founders of the Universal Empire were known to experiment on Detriton, but of course it was always a failure. No matter how deep you delve, you cannot elevate the world beyond the highest heavens. At most there might be an amusing P3, but it's hardly worth the trouble."

"I see, thank you." The Final Maiden executed a short bow. "If you have nothing else to say, I will ask the record-keepers of the Universal Empire."

"You might as well stop now. This is all so unnecessarily energetic... once you've lived a million years or so, you'll see the futility of it all. Touching the deepest abysses is an exercise for fools, and I had hoped you were not a fool." The Rotten Queen shook her head. "All this striving will lead to a harsh lesson, one day."

"If you really feel so scornful, you're welcome to teach me that lesson now."

For a moment the palace of the Rotten Queen shuddered as one of the old powers gathered itself. But despite the full might of the palace and countless warriors within, the Final Maiden stood firm, watching the woman on the throne without blinking. In the end the Rotten Queen was the one to laugh and sink back.

"I'm too old to waste time on such games. Good luck on your fruitless quest."

The Final Maiden turned away and lifted into the night.

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..

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On an ordinary day, the Brightwind Pagoda would be a place of deep reverence. Sky Souls tried to attain the highest heights of cultivation, servants lived on the whim of their betters, and conversation was only about dealings with the most powerful factions on all Cloudspire.

Today, however, they discussed the patriarch's daughter, and all his advisers feared for their lives.

Patriarch Zae Clen Ban sat on his throne, for once dissatisfied by the treasure that had been passed down for generations. His fingers alternated between tapping on his armrests and squeezing them so hard that his knuckles went white.

The Earth Souls who had been sent to recover his daughter had not been executed - not even the Brightwind sect could throw away such accomplished cultivators - but they were being tortured to punish them for their failure. Even though they had been taken away, their screams still lingered in the posture of the servants and the tone in the advisers' voices.

"So your daughter has reached the Earth Soul stage," one of the advisers repeated. Sticking to the least objectionable of facts. "She did an extraordinary job fighting those sent for her."

"Somehow she attained 750 Power," another added. "She must have taken up other powers, yet without ruining her cultivation."

"How can such a thing be? It is really beyond ordinary." A third joined in.

"Yet surely she has limited her cultivation. Sky Soul will be beyond her."

"Would it not take decades, even if she has not?"

As they chattered, Zae Clen Ban said nothing. The advisers shifted nervously, trying to appear useful without saying anything that might anger the patriarch.

"Could we send another squad of Earth Souls? One better prepared for her new strength."

"Yet there are not many who could fight at that level."

"What will we do, hire mercenaries from the Western Wilds? Brutes with tattoos across their chests?" This was said derisively, giving everyone leave to laugh. The patriarch did not, so the laughter died quickly.

"What other methods might we use?"

"It is said that the Masterful Crown clan has developed highly refined new arts that increase one's strength remarkably."

"Nonsense! More propaganda for their so-called Loam of the Gods!"

"How much do we really need? She is unlikely to grow beyond 750, even if she has been stunted."

"Indeed, indeed. There is an 80% chance she never grows beyond 800 Power."

Zae Clen Ban shifted, frowning at the adviser, and the court shifted with him.

"How can you say that about the patriarch's daughter? Of course she will attain 800!"

"She may have digressed in her path, but she will have retained her purity!"

"It wouldn't surprise me if she managed to reach 825 Power."

"825? With her talents, why not 850?"

"875, I say!"

Finally the Brightwind patriarch rose to his feet and the advisers froze in place, fearing that they had gone too far. But when he extended his hand, it was only to silence them.

"Whatever her growth," he said quietly, "if she wants to continue, she will have no choice but to return to Cloudspire. And when that happens, it is inevitable that we will learn of her location, and then there will be no more squads sent for her."

<

Name: Zae Clen Ban

Total Power: 1856

Cultivation: Sky Soul (1000)

Heavenly Cultivation (325)

Physique: D-0 (200)

Soul Level: 9 (81)

Brightwind Meridian Perfection (250)

>

When the patriarch of the sect unveiled his nearly 2000 Power, it swept through the Brightwind Pagoda like a wall. Some servants fainted, some cultivators coughed up mouthfuls of blood, and those who endured threw themselves to the ground in awe to listen to their patriarch's words.

"When my daughter returns," he said, "we will go in force and I will discipline her myself."

.

..

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It wasn't often that the Frontier elites held a meeting like this, much less one directly next to the abyss. Their work was too distributed, across geography, time, power, and culture. A thousand different elements needed to work together in order for Deadwaste to survive an incursion, which meant a thousand different tasks.

But they met at the edge now. Some distance away from the others, Gunjin Granfian crouched next to the pit, staring into nothingness.

"We're going to have trouble in Krysal," Sheiri Kagskan was saying. "Their main army will be substantially stronger than the last incursion, but we just don't have the equivalent of crystalliers. We'll need to send more of us to cover for them."

"What happened to that acid cultivation?" someone asked from the back of the group.

"It isn't advancing quickly enough." Sheiri gave a shrug. "This is a new art, and it will take more than a decade to come into its own."

"You're remarkably cavalier about this," an elite in Krysali armor said, "considering that you caused the problem. We don't have elites to spare in the west."

"Distributing blame helps no one," Sheiri countered flatly. "These are the defenses and forces we have to work with."

Handelrey Orgoron nodded in support. "And if we really must litigate the matter of Kai Clanless again, he did a remarkable amount to strengthen Irun when he last visited. They'll have elites worthy of the name now... not enough to make up for Krysal, but we'll be able to spread ourselves out in the east."

Someone from the main crowd of the elites snorted. "They've fucked things up with Birtaegal, though. What happens if we go into the incursion with no mercenaries?"

The matter was debated at length, and eventually one of the few Birtaegali elites was assigned to visit his home country and try to attract support. Most were skeptical about the value of mercenaries in any case, especially if things went wrong. Plans and counter-plans were made and debated about trying to recruit from other continents, as happened every cycle.

Gunjin Granfian said nothing.

"We do need other support." The new speaker was Gorndron of Granitecrest, not a master combatant but an essential administrator. "Due to our losses, we're limited on communication abilities. Do we have any allies who would be willing to contribute such?"

After some initial murmuring, one of the southern Goralians spoke up. "We had an ally named Nymidria who went to Cloudspire. The dryad community in the Southern Reach is still supportive of us, but they haven't been able to contact her in years."

This led to further murmuring, though not much: the elites were accustomed to allies disappearing or abandoning them. In the end, they knew they could only count on a few when the monsters emerged and threatened the entire continent.

Enalanis of Magma stood near the edge of the group, between them and the abyss. As the conversation lapsed, he turned to speak to Gunjin. "What have you learned?"

"I don't know." Gunjin Granfian rose slowly, wearily. He turned to the assembled group and shook his head. "After the previous incursion damaged my theories, everything new is just a hypothesis that might be over-fitting the data. The only thing I can say with any confidence is that the upcoming incursion is likely to be unstable, in both timing and strength."

"The incursion should be three years from today," Handelrey Orgoron said. "Is it possible that it could come substantially earlier?"

"It could also be later, but are we willing to stake the continent on it?"

"You also said strength." Enalanis of Magma watched his old friend with eyes like coals. "By the same token, we should not count on this being an unusually weak incursion. If it repeats the last one, none of our plans will matter and everyone will die. The truth is likely to be somewhere in between... but how can we plan for such a thing?"

"I only know one thing." Gunjin looked away from the group toward the abyss. "This will not be a typical incursion."