“That was sloppy,” Pike said, blocking a punch from Alistair. “You could have won easier.”
It was the day after Alistair’s rematch against Apol-Xin, and he was already training again.
Alistair suffered a mild concussion and some bruising from his match, but nothing that would prevent him from continuing his work. That sounded weird to say. In the before, a concussion would have been a serious injury. With the advent of cultivation, he wasn’t sure a concussion was even possible. Things kind of either killed you or they didn’t. But in the weird, quasi-superhuman state of the Holy Ravine, the concussion was unpleasant, but treatable with sheer willpower and herbal tea.
Apol-Xin was a gracious loser, declaring Alistair to be his superior after the match, and that he would look forward to training with him. Ko Pao look delighted, and Pike actually stood up and cheered for his student.
And then Ko Pao dropped a bombshell—Governor Silvanio had requested to see him, and they could not refuse.
Alistair wasn’t surprised—he was honestly shocked it hadn’t happened sooner. Silvanio must have known about him and Oliver the moment they attracted a crowd walking into the main village. As the ruler of the Holy Ravine, it was well within his rights to see an outsider that came in, especially one that was going to challenge one of his champions.
On that note, Alistair wondered if Silvanio knew what he was going to ask for if he was victorious. It seemed obvious that his request would be to leave. Vritra had left after showing his overwhelming strength, taking some of the reptiles away with him. That meant that Silvanio had some way of letting people out. If only Alistair had the innate strength of a Beast Lord. His guess was that the Devonic Ellision Field considered more of Vritra’s stats to be biological, therefore letting him keep more of his cultivated strength. If a dragon walked into the ravine, they wouldn’t suddenly become as weak as a rat.
“And I thought your eyes were all-seeing,” Alistair replied, adjusting his blindfold. Training without sight was mightily conducive to the growth of his foresight. It forced him to see without sight, looking beyond what laid in front of his eyes.
“Oh?” Pike asked.
“It’s impossible to grow without a little adversity. I was trying to improve my principles. And on the plus side, I think I accessed the Dao for the first time again. I mean, the Mother’s Presence.”
“Ah, so that’s what that was. I thought that might be the case. I must applaud your ingenuity.”
Alistair prepared a beautiful tornado kick, but suddenly, his blindfold came off. He was astonished. Pike ripped it off his head with one graceful swipe, and Alistair was none the wiser. He didn’t sense the initial movement at all. I guess I still have a lot to learn.
He had little time to think as Pike nearly took his head off with a thundering jab that made a cracking sound in the air.
“You’ve passed the point of attacking only,” Pike announced. “Now, you must defend.”
Pike executed a series of perfectly formed jabs and straights. It was like he was a paragon of martial arts, using almost overly perfect forms. It was stiff, and Alistair knew that he was purposefully hardening his style to teach him something. What that was would probably take several days to figure out, and he wouldn’t stop paying attention.
Pike spoke while he struck. “Do you know why the Steel Body is so much better at defending against strikes inside one’s perception?”
“No,” Alistair made out. He had a longer explanation, but he couldn’t say it with how quick Pike’s attacks were.
“Every single sect in the Ravine has trained and tempered their bodies far beyond the average human. The Raging Bulls gain the Bull’s Temperament, a raging state which grants superhuman strength and endurance. The Viper’s Fangs practice the Snake’s Spine, wherein their bodies become impossibly flexible and supple. There are benefits and downsides to the secret technique of each sect, not all of which are body tempering. By downside, I do not mean that there is any part of you that will become worse for knowing the Steel Body, but as an opportunity cost for learning it compared to the other secret techniques.”
Not for the first time, Alistair thanked the translation program baked into his soulcore. It could even cover something like “opportunity cost,” and wasn’t affected by the suppression field. So far, it hadn’t failed in translating a language, but surely it couldn’t have every language in its files? Alistair filed that away for another time.
“If the Steel Body made it so that the user was truly invincible, guarded from all sides with a nigh-impenetrable exterior, every sect would have switched over. But it is not such a divine way, unfortunately. It is truly awe-inspiring, and in my unbiased opinion, the best in the valley, but there is a ‘weakness.’
“Attacks outside of one’s perception are far more damaging. Not as damaging as they were before the Steel Body, but still far more damaging. The Steel Body hardens bones, tightens muscles, connective tissue, and the willpower, but most importantly, it is a preparatory defense. By connecting to the Mother’s Presence when we feel an attack, we use our willpower to nullify the offensive power. Then you can evidently see why an attack outside of one’s perception would be more effective. There is no mental preparation, no gathering of willpower.
“Now, I will train your perception. Think of this as the precursor to the fundamentals. If fundamentals are how deep you can understand the flow of battle, how knowledgeable you are of your opponent, how great your understanding of the mechanics of the body, perception is the data that goes into fundamental understanding. You do not want bad data.”
Alistiar nodded. He did not want bad data.
And then the dance begun. For as long as he lived, Alistair knew that he would never find anything as beautiful as the art of fighting. While at first he had only picked up the mantle out of necessity, now he truly enjoyed it.
That in turned flowed back into his central purpose. The more he loved to fight, the more it came naturally to him. The more it came naturally to him, the more skilled he could be, and the more skilled he could be, the easier he could help others. That was why, with all the pressure on him to defeat Silvanio’s champion, Alistair knew he couldn’t lose.
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Alistair’s journey to the Church of the Holy Ones was with a small envoy—Master Ko Pao, Pike, Davnos, and Ko Min. While the Silver Comet Sect was an all-male sect, unlike a mixed gender sect like Kodaidaemin or the Church of the Holy Ones, women weren’t forbidden on the premises like a sealed monastery. Ko Min was Ko Pao’s granddaughter and often helped out around the temple. Davnos was the sect’s archivist, and Pike the prized disciple. A fitting squad.
They left the next day at the crack of dawn. Alistair could feel the tension in the air. Master Ko Pao assured him that nothing bad was going to happen, but it didn’t help. It was funny to Alistair he was more nervous for a simple meeting than facing down superpowered Devil Kings in life-or-death combat.
Obviously, it came down to his lack of power, his lack of control. Alistair wondered if this was how almost of all of his citizens felt in the outside world. Powerless, subject to the whims of fate, and those stronger than them. He remembered the elemental beasts that had come out of the earthquake in New Boston. He had dealt with them easily, but anyone below, say, level 35 would have a mighty hard time dealing with the lava golems and presumably the other beasts coming from the disasters. And the boss beast? You would need to be around level 45 or have some alternate method of power to contest that without a serious risk to your life.
There were three sects in the main village itself. The Church of the Holy Ones, the Viper’s Fangs, and the Sworn Sisters. The second largest after the Holy Ones, Kodaidaemin, was located on a different peak of the white mountain. Their temple was a mountain retreat in the snow, and the apostles there were considered some of the toughest, though Pike claimed that the Silver Comet brothers exceeded them.
Alistair had asked if the center of the Holy Ravine had always held the Holy Ones and that their old base was smaller, or that they had constructed an entirely new building. Pike told him that they were always there, but their original building was much smaller. Their oldest records said that the original Church of the Holy Ones was a ziggurat of the local gods, abandoned over a thousand years ago when they began venerating the Moian pantheon.
Alistair found himself interested in the anthropological history of the Holy Ravine, but Pike shrugged.
“I don’t concern myself with those things,” he said. “That is for the scholarly man, not I.”
Instead, he talked with Davnos, the archivist. And Alistair had many questions for the learned man.
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Alistair questioned the older man, who stood as tall as him with white and black streaks in his hair. Even the archivists of the Silver Comet Sect were muscular. “What do you know of the planet that you came from, before you got whisked away? And how did that all happen?”
Davnos laughed. “What do you know of your planet? The entire sphere? Do you take the Holy Ravine for some backwater savages with no knowledge of geography? How would you explain your knowledge of your own planet?”
Alistair flushed with embarrassment. He had phrased his question terribly. He also turned red because the answer was yes to Davnos’s question about the Holy Raviners being backwater was yes, but Alistair wasn’t going to say that. “Forgive me, that was dumb. And uh, no, of course you’re not savages. I’m just curious because a farmer I talked to sounded like he considered the Holy Ravine the entire world.”
Davnos grinned, showing off a gold tooth and that he was not truly offended. “That would be the case, wouldn’t it? Most of the villagers here are simple folk. To them, the Holy Ravine is the world. As for me, I’ve traveled far and wide in my youth, but I settled back here in my middle age. Before I can answer your question, I must confirm that the information I have obtained about this planet from the outsiders who have sheltered here is correct. You call this Earth, and there are seven continents. Water takes up 70% of the surface, and you could say there are four seasons, though many parts of the world have less. You have almost two hundred nations, and advanced technology that allows you to reach the stars and send information thousands of miles in a fraction of the second. This is all correct, yes? Although, out of date.” Davnos gestured up to the sky.
“Yeah, that’s how it was. I’m surprised you know all that.”
“It is an archivist’s job to know things,” Davnos said. “I ask and I listen. I thought it might be useful one day. Now, as for comparison, we call our world Lisorte, though other peoples might name it differently. From what I can gather, it is much larger than Earth. We have two moons, one of which is red and nearly as large as our planet, causing devastating tides. For our lands, the Holy Ravine is one small part of the greater Martial League, one of the five largest nations on Lisorte. The Martial League, as aptly named, is a civilization where the fists determine everything. There are innumerable lands and peoples within its borders. Because of Lisorte’s sheer size, our population is quite high. Within the hundreds of millions, I believe. The Holy Ravine is still but a minor, minor place in the Martial League.”
“Interesting,” Alistair said. “I assume your technological level was much lower than Earth.”
“Quite so,” Davnos said. “I am amazed by the stories your people tell of what these marvelous ‘electronics’ were capable of. Alas, they seem to have all failed?”
“Correct,” Alistair replied. “After the initiation, all of our advanced electronics failed. Though, I’ve heard of cases where people’s Classes allow them access to technology. My friend Alfred, he can create tiny little spy drones that function similarly to what electronic ones could do, but even better. Actually, maybe they are still electronic? This universe is part of the Final Frontier Empire, which purchased the Pathfinder AI from the Sublimed Machine Faction. That makes it seem like they would have a lot of technology, but I haven’t noticed an overwhelming amount compared to cultivation.”
Alistair looked at his companion and realized he was going on a tangent. “Oh, apologies, I didn’t mean to go on like that. This must all be confusing.”
“No, it is quite alright. You bring up some interesting points, though I do not grasp the entire situation.”
“And you, why isn’t the entire Holy Ravine going crazy? At least on Earth we knew about the possibility of aliens. It sounds like Lisorte had medieval levels of technology. By medieval, I mean the level of technology Earth had a thousand years ago. Wasn’t this all insanely shocking to you guys?”
Davnos laughed. “The Holy Ravine is made up of sturdy stock. For a thousand years, we have engaged in eternal war with our neighbors in the Wasted Realm. And yet, for one thousand years, the Holy Ravine has not seen civilian bloodshed within its borders. Our people are simple and hard. This situation, while not ideal, is not the worst thing that could happen. And indeed, some are hopeful that they will develop the powers they have heard about from the outsiders.”
“I think that should happen,” Alistair said. “But I can’t guarantee anything. So speaking on the Holy Ravine, were you the strongest in all of the Marital League?”
“Despite my pride in my homeland, we cannot claim that title,” Davnos said. “We are far too small. Our fighters are much stronger than the average soldier in the Martial League, but we lack enough population for the truest talents to emerge. As much as it pains me to say, the unprecedented arrival of Silvanio improved the standing of the Holy Ravine greatly. The major reason why his rule is not contested more. Even so, he would only be in the top twenty-five masters of the Martial League.”
“What a wide world it is.” Alistair found it hard to believe that anyone could be better than Pike at martial arts—he moved with such athleticism and confidence that he gave off the impression he could knockout a mountain-sized dragon with a sure punch. That is, if you didn’t count Red. Alistair wasn’t powerful enough at the time to truly comprehend his movements, but he gave off the aura of perfection. As much as he liked Pike, Red was something else.
Alistair shook his head. “What I would give to see him against one of those masters,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Davnos asked. Alistair had forgotten that the members of the Silver Comet Sect had unusually good hearing.
“Oh, nothing. A couple months ago, I encountered this guy who beat my ass with just one hand. Well, he didn’t actually attack me at all, but he embarrassed me pretty hard. I bet he would win against Pike, honestly, even if you brought him down to the same physical condition.”
“How intriguing,” Davnos said, stroking his chin. “What is the name of this master, should I encounter them in the future?”
“Red,” Alistair said. “I encountered him on a planet that must be billions of miles away from here, so you probably won’t ever see him.”
Davnos’s eyes widened. “What did this fellow look like?”
“Tall, good-looking guy. Tan with red hair. Liked the color white, but that could be just his outfit of the—”
“By the Mother’s great bosom, it cannot be!” The wizened man stopped mid-stride, staring directly into Alistair’s eyes. “Surely you jest?”
“Nope, that’s what he looked like,” Alistair replied, extremely confused. “Why, do you know him?”
“His Excellency Red Harmonia,” Davnos stated, as if reciting from memory. “The undisputed First Grandmaster of the Martial League, the youngest in history to become the Grand Champion of the Martial League at fourteen years old, the Unrivaled One and guarantor of the Martial League against the Drakonian Empire and the Wasted Realm. I cannot believe that you witnessed him with your own two eyes.”
The reverence Davnos had for Red bordered on fanatical. Alistair wondered exactly what Red had done to earn all of those titles. But the more pressing question was, how the hell this was possible?
It can’t be a coincidence, can it? The guy I meet from back then turns out to be related to these people now? Let’s think about this analytically. Nenna Spindoller didn’t mention that Red was from the same universe as me. That is using absence of evidence to make a positive assertion, but I think she probably would have mentioned that. So Lisorte is probably not in the same universe as the Final Frontier Empire. Plus, since their initiations happened at around the same time, their Prime Initiates would have been owning in Felons vs Fellows, right? At the time of the Felons vs. Fellows, I wasn’t even a talent in the grand scheme of the empire. The Pathfinder AI wouldn’t have been specifically targeting me. I’m stronger now and it hasn’t shown that kind of favoritism from what I’ve seen. Considering I don’t know what the mission Nenna and Red were on, there is a high likelihood it had to do with a part of his planet coming here. Or parts? There could have been more than one.
Alistair scratched his head. Could parts of Earth be on Lisorte, or other far-off worlds? What if all of Harvard College or the Shaolin Monastery were currently involved in some interplanetary dispute? Alistair felt bad for them, though he had to supress a chuckle since the idea was kind of funny in of itself. He would have to investigate missing regions when he got home. A lot of things were missing in burnt portions of the world caused by Atavius Meloi, and now that everything was scrambled up, it wouldn’t be easy.
“Have I lost you?” Davnos asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“No, no, I was just thinking,” Alistair said. “What a coincidence I have already seen your Grand Champion.”
“Indeed. All the better. Perhaps you can introduce us one day.”
Alistair stifled a laugh. “That would be interesting.”
They made their way through the thick forest and back into the main village. It bustled with life, people on the merry way like there wasn’t an apocalypse going on. To them, there was nothing wrong. Alistair couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to all those people if the Devil Kings successfully managed to unify the planet. He doubted they would remain safe forever in those conditions.
The normal people of the Holy Ravine gave the Silver Comet Sect brothers a wide berth. Respectful, but also a little afraid, Alistair estimated. To the average peasant, the sects were both their protectors but also their rulers. A different caste. Still, almost everyone had a distant relative or two that was in them, so it wasn’t like they were completely alien.
Davnos had told him the population of the Holy Ravine was fifty-five thousand. There were many different ethnicities despite the apparent isolation of the place, owing to multiple waves of immigration. Ko Pao’s lineage in particular came from the first wave of immigration that brought the introduction of martial arts. This afforded him respect beyond his title as Head Apostle, even from Silvanio.
At last, they came upon the Church of the Holy Ones. It was as opulent as Alistair remembered, an enormous temple that reached up into the heavens, a twelve-pointed cerulean star on its steeple. The main section of the temple was a ten-story pagoda the area of the entire Silver Comet temple, with two west and east wings attached to it.
There was an overhang of silvery stone that looked almost like the nave of a Gothic-style church attached to the temple. This extended forward, giving a depth to the temple that felt ancient and foreboding.
It was nothing compared to the wonders Alistair had seen on Faxor, but for the Holy Ravine, it was sheer grandiosity. It was something that the other sects had complained endlessly about. The presentation suggested that the Church of the Holy Ones was the greatest.
Are they wrong about that? They’ve won the championship of the Holy Ravine eight times in a row.
Unlike the Silver Comet Sect, they had two guards at the front door. A short stone stairway led up to two doors taller than two of Alistair, engraved with conquests of man over nature. Right as they arrived, the doors opened, and a man stepped out.
Right away, Alistair understood who he was. Silvanio Apostolos.
He was shorter and smaller than Alistair expected, perhaps the same size as himself before the initiation. However, in every aspect of his being, he screamed strength. He had harsh, angular features, not an ounce of fat on his face. His hair was dark and his skin pale and he wore a fine silk cloak patterned after the starry night sky, far fancier than the clothing even the elders of the Silver Comet Sect wore.
And he was staring straight at Alistair.