A sleek metal shell filled with wires and all sorts of artificial bones, muscles, and tendons began its journey from Chikere’s shoulder. Comparing to her left arm, she could feel more than a few minor differences, besides the obvious one of it not being made out of flesh. But while she could absolutely dismantle a human body, and knew how it worked on a basic level, she didn’t study anything below the scale it was relevant to cut. So despite not understanding her new arm either, it wasn’t that different.

She flexed her arm, and then her other arm. That felt odd, mostly because she could feel anything at all. Anything good, anyway. She’d had memories of her arm being destroyed, and the details of that weren’t exactly pleasant.

Despite how long it had been since she possessed the limb, it was extremely natural to move ‘her arm’ again. She bent her elbow and wiggled her fingers, feeling how they moved. It was quite fascinating.

“How does it feel?” the doctor who attached it asked. His name was… Escarra. She should at least try to remember helpful people.

“Good. Strange,” Chikere admitted. “It’s missing some things I hoped for.”

“Well, your requirements were quite… extensive and specialized. There’s only so much that can be put together at once. The materials required for your performance requirements took quite a bit of work and tuning to put together,” Doctor Escarra explained while Chikere marveled at having her main hand again. Despite how much she’d used her left, for some reason she was still clearly more proficient with her right. She tightened her grip on a hilt just feeling it. “There’s still some work to do so today we’re just going to do minor tests. Try not to-”

Chikere drew number one and slashed forward. Normally, that would have chopped the building in half- or at least made a nice slice all the way to the outside, depending on the arc of her swing- but she could hardly be a grandmaster if she couldn’t control what she wanted to cut. Her sword flashed, and a speck of dust split in two. Then her arm fell limp at her side.

“- to push the natural energy intake by rapidly flooding it,” Doctor Escarra sighed.

“Oh. Sorry.” Chikere’s arm was numb. But, it was still there. There was a tingling sensation as feeling returned, though the whole thing was a bit less responsive afterward and Chikere smelled smoke coming from it.

“The intention was to get some data on how it reacts and what you can do, then slowly iterate on the design until it meets our standards. Since you are going to be returning to the upper realms at some point, we would eventually move onto testing with ascension energy…” Doctor Escarra shook his head. “If we can get that.”

“Anton can get that,” Chikere said.

“So I’ve heard. I thought to practice Fleeting Youth myself, but I’m too old to make many strides in cultivation.”

“Or not old enough,” Chikere countered.

“Perhaps,” the doctor shook his head. “Even if I could reach the cultivation required I wouldn’t be interested in ascending. Reincarnation seems interesting, but it is apparently difficult to decouple the different energies.” The man shook his head. “So very few have had any success at all with the technique. But that’s not what you’re here for. We’ll do… what tests we can. Then it will take some time to get things to the next stage.”

Chikere found it odd how Ruterans tended to make things they knew wouldn’t work. Did smiths do that? She sort of assumed they made their impressive projects as they pleased once they had enough experience, but perhaps every sword before then counted as prototypes for specific features. She couldn’t say, because she wasn’t in the sword creation business. “What do you need me to do, then?” Chikere asked. Feeling her arm, even for a short time, had been quite interesting. She would have to thank Ty for suggesting it- and of course Nicodemo for getting her access to Doctor Escarra and the rest of the team.

-----

Everheart was running into a problem. It wasn’t a matter of having limited options, but having too many. He had his initial plans, of course, setting up for the future. But what else could he do now? And if he happened to be obtaining resources from a larger faction, which ones should he focus on and what else should he do while he was there?

If he simply snuck into the Harmonious Citadel’s vaults and took their most precious objects, or the original copies of their techniques, or their miraculous medicines then he would have merely increased his own wealth. Valuable, but only to a certain extent. Their influence would at most decline a tiny amount, while his would remain basically the same. It wasn’t as if he could ever inform anyone of exactly how much wealth he had. That would only invite concerted efforts to remove him, instead of improving his position. So if he couldn’t improve his own security outside of developing his system, he had to lower his enemies. By taking out a saint, for example.

But that was a bit difficult. Despite their greater power, he had his eyes set on the Exalted Quadrant and the Trigold Cluster. They had power, but their cohesion was weaker. They had grown too large, and the factions inside of them would vie for power regardless of what they tried to display outwardly.

However, simply destabilizing one wouldn’t do. Oh no, not at all. If the Exalted Quadrant got in a civil war and devastated half of their population, the Trigold Cluster would take that as an easy option to move into the Scarlet Midfields and maybe even consume the Exalted Quadrant. No, they both had to experience sufficient disruption, if he were to do that. That would require some research. And if he robbed a few former emperor’s tombs while in the middle of that, all the better.

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-----

The Wandering Heart Sect occupied one single location around Itholla, which was simply part of the wider Doruma system. For the past few months, Anton had been introduced to various high-ranking individuals. Not all had been as eager as Caradog to receive a visitor like Anton, but they were eventually assured that he was not present with hostile intentions.

Eventually things came to what Anton could do for them, and what they could do for him. Anton began with an exchange of seeds. Simple ones that grew well when tended but would not easily become invasive species, crowding out natural vegetation. Some animal diversity would be preferred, but between every planet in the Doruma system enough variety had survived. There simply hadn’t been many people determined to deal with those particular issues. Much of it was preserving their cultivation traditions, making sure new generations were raised and the concealment formations maintained. Everyone was responsible for keeping the system safe, and they had their own ships to inspect and potentially repair some of the free-floating anchors that formed it.

-----

Sweat dripped down Anton’s brow as he tilled the soil. This brought him back to memories of long before… but also more recent memories. His life as a farmer had of course been filled with such work, but even as he began energy cultivation he had performed similar labor to temper his body and grow crops suited for cultivators to consume- though nowadays he would say the particular specimens were subpar. He hadn’t stopped there, however. In the process of building up Ceretos, Anton had contributed work with his own hands frequently- both as demonstration and a sign of solidarity.

Anton couldn’t tend an entire world’s crops… or if he could, he wouldn’t want to. However, he could toss together a field in a short time. Rocks in the soil were crushed with his energy or removed in the same swings that he moved entire rows of dirt.

He wiped his brow. “For this kind, you’ll want larger rows than you might expect,” Anton explained to Caradog- and more importantly the elders and disciples focused on agriculture for the sect. Most sect focused them on medicine, but the right combinations of crops could provide growth in many ways, from nutrition to cultivation growth to improving the soil and the ambient natural energy. “These tubers were first cultivated in Ambati, found wild in massive tangles. Since then we’ve developed them to stay more separate, but they still can grow clusters a meter across, nearly a single ball. That’s why you want to make sure the mounds are sufficiently sized and separated for that growth. You should still plant them in half meter increments, as some won’t immediately begin to grow, and even if they sprout adjacent to each other it will be relatively efficient.” Anton demonstrated by tossing the seed tubers into a row, then waving his hand to settle the earth atop them. After the whole field was settled, he released some of his energy to feed them their first meal.

One of the farming elders asked questions on everyone’s minds. “Is it really worthwhile to provide them with our own natural energy?”

“For a single harvest, perhaps not,” Anton shook his head, “You could simply absorb the natural energy in the surroundings for yourself, and let them fend for themselves. These tubers would still survive and grow, and eating them would be valuable for cultivation for those in Body Tempering or others with low energy requirements. You could maintain that year after year, pretty much indefinitely.” Anton grinned, “Or you could look to a decade or century from now. If you are willing to restrain yourself a bit, you can look forward to two or three times the ambient energy, maybe more depending on how vigorous you are. That energy will be suitable for training Essence Collection or Life Transformation cultivators. And of course, you are not actually losing much by giving of your energy. You will still absorb some energy for yourselves, while properly feeding the plants can be training.”

Caradog took over there. “Sect Head Anton has experienced the transformation of his own world over centuries, so he knows of what he speaks.” Though Caradog hadn’t personally observed Ceretos, he could determine Anton was trustworthy. He did not ask for great payment upfront, but rather would wait until people could observe several years of results. And simply having him around was helpful, as he was not shy with giving cultivation advice to those who asked. The man seemed to have studied a great many techniques, such that he didn’t even need to see the Wandering Heart Sect’s core cultivation manuals to determine important features.

Caradog was tempted to have Anton transform the Wandering Heart Sect into the most powerful within the system… and perhaps they would be if he was able to put Anton’s methods into practice. However, he couldn’t be so selfish as to keep this man just to himself and one moon.

-----

Chidi wrapped his arms around a wolf’s neck as he rode her around. Unlike humans, most of the pups had no names yet. They would gain them as they grew older, given to them by either their parents or perhaps some human cultivators.

Communication was limited with his new friends. They could not speak, he could not read something scratched into the ground- though they were working on that. If the gouges were deep enough to not wipe away, he could trail his hand across and get some sense of it, but certain letters blurred together. Not that the wolf pups did much writing anyway. No, their main forms of communication were still yipping and wrestling. They were sometimes a bit overzealous, but while Chidi sometimes found himself with scratches he never felt actually in danger. Though his mother and Spikes had watched intently for some time.

“When can I learn to cultivate, mother?” Chidi asked. He knew she was listening, with her senses on him, but he couldn’t trace that back to the source.

“Not until you’re older,” his mother said. “And don’t think just because you try to talk like an adult I’ll think you are one.”

“Auntie Alva began cultivating when she was not much older than ten,” Chidi said. “Surely you won’t force me to wait until I am an adult?”

That didn’t quite get the response he wanted. “Wait another five years and we can talk about it.”

Disappointing. But there was also something hidden behind the words he couldn’t quickly discern. Was she hiding something? There were always things his mother didn’t want him to know. Or any adults. And while he wasn’t able to see their expression, slight changes in tone could reveal at least that he was missing something. But wasn’t he always?

Chidi couldn’t wait. But five more years… that was basically forever.