POV Víctor Ollés
Dark storm clouds blanketed the sky. Occasional sparks of
lightning rolled within the clouds, not yet able to break free and
unleash their might upon the court mage below.
It was late in the evening, and the sun was setting. While the storm clouds reached far, they couldn’t quite touch
the horizon so the sun was framed between the dark clouds and the tan
ground. A bright orange illuminated the area where Víctor would take on
the [System]’s challenge.
The Cult Leader and the others stood with their backs toward the sun; their shadows stretched far into the clear patch of
land, only for the tops of their shadows to distort under the energy of
the formation.
Víctor stood in the center of the formation, staring up
at the heavens as the final seconds of the countdown ticked away.
Then
the timer finally reached zero.
KRRAACK!
BOOOM!
The first lightning strike descended in a flash and struck the formation.
It held.
Electricity crackled as the power of the tribulation
lightning spread across the dome surface of the formation. Countless
bright yellow arcs covered the surface while a small fraction of the
energy pierced the shell and entered the formation, saturating the air
inside with a powerful electrical energy.
Víctor grimaced from the pain in spite of the fact that
only a fraction of the energy actually reached him. Once he dealt with
the initial shock, a triumphant smile formed on his face. His work, his plans and ideas, had been proven right.
A second strike hit the formation and more lightning essence filled the dome.
When the third hit, Víctor could no longer hold on to his smile.
The formation worked as planned, but the might of the
tribulation was still extraordinary. His formation protected him from
the initial impact but most of the energy of each lightning strike still
entered the interior of the formation. He was, for lack of a better
term, bathing in pure destructive electricity.
It was by design.
His idea was that this would enable him to increase his
chances of surviving yet avoid sacrificing too much of the purifying
benefits of the tribulation. The original plan was pure protection, this
was something he was only able to add due to the extra preparation time.
He had discussed and planned out several ideas and
formations with Formation Hall Master Jum in the past months. This was
one of the previously scrapped ideas. It would have been impossible to
create such a formation in under an hour, but the [System]’s unexpected
lenience changed things.
There was less damage done to him, but the pain was still
beyond anything he had ever experienced. And it only increased with
every new bolt of lightning.
Safi, Gawen, and Eduard
Everybody had been anxiously waiting for the lightning
tribulation to begin, but the sudden flash of light accompanied by a
soul crushing noise still caught them all by surprise, everyone except for their lieutenant, turned cult leader, of course. He was the only one of them with any experience when it
came to tribulations. Not only in terms of enduring one himself but also
as a witness. None of the rest of them had ever seen one up close with
their own eyes. Víctor, as the most veteran of them, had been privy to more information and insight than the rest of them from his alma mater, but even he had never truly experienced one up close, not before
facing his own right now.
Safi, Gawen, and Eduard all flinched and used their hands
to cover their eyes in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the
intense bright light of the initial lightning strike. They had all heard
about the tribulation for their entire lives but nothing could prepare
them for the real thing.
In Calindor, parents would use the tribulation as a sort of bogeyman.
“Don’t go into the woods alone; if the monsters don’t get you, a tribulation will!”
“The [System] has a special tribulation for children who stay up too late!”
“Hear that thunder in the distance? That’s a child facing a tribulation for not listening to their parents!”
The list went on and on. Anyone who grew up in the
Calindor Federation was told the same things. As you got older and the
scary stories transitioned into a very real possibility, if your limit allowed, some chose to
avoid it entirely by desperately refusing to level to 50, while others
were resolved to overcome the bogeyman of their youth and climb to new
heights.
The three of them had heard the Cult Leader describe what
it was like to witness a tribulation, but mere words couldn’t do it
justice.
It shook them to their core.
Not just the sight and sound of it, but the feeling of
dread that poured down from the heavens. It spread throughout their
entire bodies from the vibrations in earth and the static in the air.
There was even a pressure in the atmosphere around them, not unlike Baz’
gravitational pressure from his Nascent Soul, except all-encompassing,
like they were at the bottom of the ocean.
They weren’t the only ones who were shaken. A handful of
the most senior demonic cultivators were also there to witness the
tribulation.
POV Haru
While she wouldn’t have to face a Major Accomplishment
Tribulation like the court mage, Haru would, at some point, hopefully face a
Nascent Soul Heavenly Tribulation. And those were even more intense—if
the Demon Lord’s was anything to judge by—but still quite similar in
general in their nature.
She, like all the other demonic cultivators, had grown up in the Red Sea where reaching level 10 was considered rare and impressive.
Haru had heard the word ‘Tribulation’ only once before
all this. When she was a young sproutling and began working with her
mother weaving baskets. She had met the daughter of a traveling
merchant. Throughout their travels, the merchant’s daughter had heard
myths and legends about a mighty tribulation, and she couldn’t stop
talking about it to everyone she met. Haru had brought the topic up with
her mother but was shut down immediately.
“Time wasted on fantasizing
about nonsense is time spent not working!” her mother had said.
Even with everything she had learned and seen since the
foundation of the cult, the tribulation was still astounding. To witness
such raw power left her, and all her fellow demonic cultivators, speechless.
POV Baz
The Major Accomplishment Tribulation soon reached its
peak where the lightning struck one on top of the other. A solid bright
yellow pillar of lightning connected the heavens and earth. The
formation Víctor’s had worked so hard on setting up held on for dear
life. It was so saturated with tribulation energy that it was impossible
to see anything beyond its bright surface. It was lit up like a bright
light bulb stuck to the ground.
“By the gods!”
“Is he still alive?”
“How could anyone survive this?”
“Please hold on!”
Everyone voiced their shock and anxious thoughts, to no
one in particular. The deafening rumble of the thunder meant no one but
Baz could even hear them. Some had to fight their own urges to rush in
and save Víctor while others were just awestruck, their concern for
their friend and colleague overshadowed by the pure spectacle of it all.
Baz was the only one who could see what was happening
inside the formation. While all of the senior demonic cultivators had
learned the [Spirit Union] Technique, they hadn’t automatically gained
the same System Skill as Baz did back in the day. They weren’t breaking
new ground, after all. Added onto that was the fact that with his breakthrough
to [Nascent Soul] stage, the [System] had fully incorporated the
cultivation path, effectively cutting off the cultivators from the
general Level System, and the Skills that came with it.
As a result, they only had the pure [Spirit Union] Technique to rely on.
The main difference was the lack of detail and clarity,
as well as a weaker ability to pierce through objects. They could, of
course, extend their spiritual sense through walls and other obstacles,
but those obstacles naturally offered some resistance, which meant their
senses were limited in a way Baz’ wasn’t. In this case, they
couldn’t pierce through the surface of the formation due to its extreme
essence density.
Inside, Víctor was on his last leg.
Even with a long history and experience with battles,
mages were rarely as accustomed to enduring pain as warriors were. The
court mage had collapsed to his knees and was convulsing from the
electricity coursing through him. He had already pulled forth a resolve
from deep inside which the man himself didn’t even know existed.
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As quickly as it began, the pillar of lightning sputtered out.
A dome on the ground, shining brightly in the dark of night, was all that remained. Moments later, that too flickered off.
Everything turned from bright as day to pitch black in mere moments. It was shocking to all the onlookers how quick the transition happened. Even their powerful
and supernaturally heightened senses struggled to keep up with the
sudden darkness.
“Víctor!”
“NO!”
Safi and several others called out in terror. Baz
certainly understood why—something deep down, something instinctual in
their very souls, screamed that the bright light suddenly turning completely dark was symbolic. As if the light emitted from the tribulation was the flame
of his life and the pitch black of night was his life extinguishing.
With the tribulation over and the danger gone, they rushed forward into the clearing.
“Are you alright? Please, Víctor, answer me!” Safi
shouted. Their senses gradually adapted to the darkness, and the group
surrounded the man.
Baz was the only one who kept his calm. His spiritual sense was watching the entire time, he
already knew the outcome. A smile crept up on Baz’ face as Víctor’s
breathing settled.
“Please stop screaming… My head is killing me,” the court mage said softly.
No one listened.
Screams and cheers erupted, the sound was almost enough to contend with the memory of the now defeated tribulation.
With the tribulation succeeding, the Formations Arts became the cult’s next big project.
Formation Hall Master Jum had already spent years
experimenting,
but this was the magical art’s first test, one it passed with
flying colors.
For the next few months, plans were carefully laid out
for a massive formation around the entire Mansan range. It would
separate the mountain range, and the cultivators who lived there, from
Mujin and the rest of the outside world, turning Mansan to an isolated
cultivation paradise.
The mountain range wasn’t large by the standards of this
world, but it was by no means small. There was a great deal of land to
cover in order to surround the base with a formation.
Fortunately, the people of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult
had spent years leveling up and had reached a decent average, at least
among the active workers. That meant they could use their supernatural
strength and [System] guided Skills to make good time.
Simple formation flags wouldn’t work for something of that scale.
Large pillars of a dark, marble-like stone were hauled from a quarry several weeks worth of travel away.
The demonic cultivators of Formation Hall worked with the
mages of the capital to enchant the pillars to work as large and
complex formation flags.
It took several more months to transfer, enchant, and place the formation pillars around the mountain base.
Once they were installed, vast currents of natural
essence flowed from one pillar to the next, not as a singular river but
as several smaller streams, braided together in a complex pattern.
***
After many years of construction, the Mansan Mountain
Range—and the central mountain peak in particular, had completely
transformed.
The mountain of the Demonic Citadel—as they came to call
the cultivation complex constructed on Mansan, the demonic cultivators’
new home—had the grey of harled stone rather than the tan sandstone more
common in Mujin.
Combined with the water feature and decorative gardens on
the main square, the Demonic Citadel felt like an entirely different
world from cult’s capital.
Formation Hall was one of the largest buildings
constructed on the peak. As with most buildings in the eastern
continent, it was in the style of a pagoda. However, the architects
focused more on grandeur than tradition as it stood five stories tall.
In the heart of the Formation Hall main building was a
room with a dark boulder as a centerpiece. It was of the same material
as the formation pillars and sunk down in a pit in the middle of the
room.
Metal grates bridged the gap over the pit, between the
floor and the boulder. Such that only the top half of it was properly
visible.
That top half of the boulder was sculpted to match the shape of the mountain range and stood as tall as a man.
All around the edges of the room stood smaller formation
pillars, otherwise identical to those placed around the base of the
mountain range, covered in carved patterns. Each formation pillar on the
outside was connected and paired to one in the room.
“Demon Lord, sir, I think we’re finally ready to activate
the [Grand Demonic Mist Formation],” Formation Master Jum said
excitedly. His hair was a mess, breathing ragged, and dark robes
scuffed. Dozens of other formation masters scurried around the room,
ensuring that everything was working properly.
The grand formation was the result of months and months of hard work without much of any rest, based on years of research.
Baz stood in front of the sculpted boulder, hands behind
his back, and appreciated the replica of their new home. “You’ve worked
hard, Formation Hall Master.” He smiled and turned his attention to the
formation hall master. “Let’s finally see all that hard work come to
fruition,” he said.
Formation Hall Master Jum beamed as he walked up to the center boulder and pressed his palm against its warm surface.
With a push of essence, and a carefully planned out intent, the formation activated.
The boulder emitted a soft glow, which moments later
spread to the formation pillars in the room as lines of essence glowed
along the floor.
Starting from bottom, the carved patterns of the pillars lit up. A small shock wave burst forth and the air thrummed.
A white mist billowed through the metal grates and
gradually spread around the entire boulder. When it settled, a ring of
mist surrounded the boulder, reaching up about a third of the way from
the base.
Everyone who stood outside to watch the formation
activate—which was most of the demonic cultivators—saw that same mist
billow up at the base of the mountain and surround the entire mountain
range.
“Congratulation, Formation Hall Master. This is truly an incredible achievement,” Baz said.
The man of the hour almost didn’t hear him though, over
the distraction of several grand [System] notifications. A veritable
stream of essence, gifted by the [System] engulfed him. The same
happened to everyone who had worked on the grand formation, albeit to a
lesser degree.
“Thank you, Demon Lord.” A proud, almost maniacal smile
was plastered on his face. The man’s obsession had just been reinforced,
many times over. “This is only the beginning!”
The entire room was ecstatic. All of the formation
masters were stunned and thrilled in equal measure. Not only did the
[System] reward them all with essence, but they also received powerful
Titles that would make future formations easier to set up and far more
powerful.
Soon, the mist around the boulder began to light up with
several small dots, and they all excitedly watched every single dot as
they appeared.
It was the one of the main reasons why the formation was
such an achievement. Not only would the mist cover and hide parts of the
mountain range from view, there were also several functions built into
it.
The mist in the control room was connected to the true
mist outside—and whenever anyone or anything entered the mist, a dot
would light up.
Blue dots were animals, yellow dots were monsters, green for demonic cultivators, and finally red for intruders.
That was an extraordinary accomplishment in and of
itself, but that wasn’t all. The formation also disoriented any who
entered it. Unless you were a cultivator, you would find yourself
walking in circles and losing any sense of direction.
If someone were to stumble their way
through the formation, not only would the cult's formation masters see them coming, they were
also planning on having Killing Formations scattered about as a second line of defense.
The cult was always working on helping the weaker members
level up and improve, and these killing formations would be projects
given to all members of Formation Hall. Formations would be set up, one
next to the other, to cover all sides of the mountain range.
It was a policy inherited from how they organized the
construction workers dedicated to the Demonic Citadel and the Cave of
Latent Demons. They had leveled up greatly by constructing important
facilities for the cult, but they also recruited new workers regularly.
These new workers were given smaller tasks, like constructing sections
of the stairs and pathways that spanned the entire mountainside.
The entrance to the Demonic Citadel at the base of the
mountain, just past the [Grand Demonic Mist Formation], led to a
staircase that stretched all the way up the mountain.
Those stairs went past the defensive towers and walls,
and continued up to the residential district, the houses and living
quarters for the cultivators. There were thousands of courtyard villas
strewn across the mountainside. Paths and connections were also built
between each building.
Further up the mountain were all the facilities the
Heavenly Demon Divine Cult might need: training facilities, cultivation
chambers, resource warehouses, blacksmiths, alchemical workshops,
medical clinics, and the list went on.
At the highest levels were the main buildings for the
different Halls. Formation Hall was the first to be formed, but Baz had
plans for more. Construction Hall was already underway.
Also at the same altitude was the library, several
stories tall. The first floor was mostly filled with general knowledge
books on all kinds of topics. Something the natives of the Red Sea had
lacked all their lives due to the isolation of the region. Now, they
were all encouraged to learn about anything and everything.
On the second floor were the basic Technique manuals Baz
had spent a great deal of time and effort to write, as well as many
Techniques devised by other demonic cultivators. On the higher floors
were far fewer manuals, only the most powerful and complex Techniques
which currently existed were found there.
At the very peak of the mountain stood the Temple of the
Heavenly Demon. Baz’ home. It had been renovated and expanded time and
time again.
Baz had little to no need to sleep
anymore. Instead, he spent his time on his cultivation and
Techniques—which at his current stage was, in some respects, the same
thing.
He had previously only had an idea of what it meant to
cultivate the soul, but now, after his experience with the assassins of
the Whispering Reaper Guild, he understood.
To cultivate the soul was, in part, as simple as
nurturing and growing his Soul Seed by consuming the veil between the
physical and the spirit. It could be done manually over time. Through cultivation and a focus on the Soul Seed, it would naturally expand.
The best way, however, was through enlightenment. It was
an abstract concept that he still hadn’t fully wrapped his head around, but as his understanding of the natural laws that governed the world
improved, so too did his soul.
It wasn’t just the natural laws that were important,
however, a better understanding of himself and the connection between
his physical body and his spirit also improved the development of his
Soul Seed.
The best way to improve his understanding of both himself and the world was through meditation and training.
During his fight with the elder of the Whispering Reaper
Guild, Baz had experienced an epiphany. In that moment, he understood
himself better than ever, and that understanding was built on a
foundation of years of training.
The outside area of the temple had expanded quite significantly.
Now there was a large flower garden, practically a field
of magical flowers that improved the density of natural essence, with a
gazebo on one side, at the end of the cliff, overlooking the vast
territories around Mansan, and on the other was his personal training
ground, now reinforced by formations.
Baz stood on the training platform and swung his sword according to his hearts desire.
His Sword Art did not guide him, he guided it. The [System] was not allowed to influence him or the path of the sword.
In his mind, he replayed every swing of his sword since
the first time he ever held one, the one he found in the goblin cave in
the Valley of Remembrance. He emulated every swing, utilizing his now decades of experience to make each swing the best version of itself possible. For each arc of the blade, he let his memory guide his intent according to his state of mind at the time of the original swing.
Excitement. Hunger. Anger. Fear. Ambition. Curiosity. Indignation. Desperation. Shame. Hope.
During his life, he had swung his sword with a near endless range of emotion. Each as valid and powerful as the next.
A smile crept onto his face as he moved around the
training ground. There was no need to limit himself to a single emotion,
or intent. His sword was all encompassing.
The [Unyielding Sword of the Demon God] knew no bounds.
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