Oliver watched over Alistair while he soundly slept.
Two days had passed since his friend underwent the Final Trial of the Steel Body, and he had not yet woken up.
Brother Pike assured him that this was normal, but it didn’t fully alleviate his concerns.
Damn it, Oliver thought. That was really childish of me, wasn’t it?
He was referring to when he broke down emotionally in front of Alistair, afraid that they would never leave. How embarrassing was it for him to doubt Alistair? After everything that had happened, it was the least he could do to put his faith in that man.
At first, Oliver had despised his time in the Holy Ravine. Unlike the other guy, he wasn’t built for this type of manual labor. Still, there were some benefits. He definitely preferred the way he looked in the mirror now than before. Even if the initiation had transformed him from skinny fat to fit, in the Silver Comet Sect he went to another level. Nothing compared to Alistair or even Alexandra, he supposed, but still nice.
“Oliver, Brother Iokab will be mad at you if you don’t meet the curfew,” a voice whispered from afar.
That was Augusto, Oliver’s closest friend within the sect. A fellow white headband, he came in the newest batch of recruits only a little before Oliver joined himself. He was a headstrong guy, honestly reminding him a little of Alistair.
In the arena of friendship, he was doing better than the #1 ranker. It was the sad fact of reality that Alistair’s ridiculous progression insulated him from making stronger bonds. As far as Oliver knew, he only really hung out with Pike and that Izalia woman from Kodaidaemin.
“I know, I know,” Oliver shot back. “I’m being foolish.”
“I didn’t say that,” Iokab replied. “It’s a natural feeling to want to be there for him.”
Iokab was right. He wanted to cherish those moments, as he didn’t know how many more of them there would be. The one thing he had kept from Alistair was the offer.
Given that [Armageddon] didn’t kill them, he had received a letter inviting him to the FarNetter Academy. Oliver didn’t know what that meant at first, but the letter came with a holographic video explaining the offer.
The FarNetters were one of five special occupations of the Sublimed Machine Faction. Part of their spec ops divisions, you could say, though more generalized than that. As a hands-off satellite polity of the Sublimed Machine Faction, they adopted some of the faction's structures as their own.
The FarNetters specialized in long-range combat and summons. Perfect for Oliver. The Five Academies often took in young cultivators who had fallen under the eye of the sects, nobles, and corporations. Also, they could take them in later, whereas sponsors had a limited window.
The only problem was that Oliver felt Alistair was expecting him and Alexandra to stay behind and help steward Earth. That was doubly so now that Alexandra had become a quasi-Devil King.
Oliver hadn’t accepted the offer yet. He still had months.
“But it’s still foolish. I’m not helping him by being here. Let’s go.”
Oliver took one last glance at Alistair. It was strange to see him so inert and empty of vitality. Almost wrong. Hopefully, he would wake up soon.
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Alistair felt different.
The moment he woke up, something had changed. The only way he could put it was that he felt heavier.
Not in a bad, bloated way, like he had stuffed his face with pies. But like if the world shook, he would stay still. Despite this strange feeling of heaviness, he was barely any slower than he was before.
While the visions of the trial felt illusory, the items Purana of the Stratospheric Flames had given him were anything but. Both the pyramid lodestone and the key were in the pockets of his robes.
The first thing Alistair did when he came to was run to Master Ko Pao. If anyone needed to hear what happened in his vision, it was him.
It was his first time entering Master Ko Pao’s private retreat. Like he expected, it was the opposite of Silvanio’s opulence. A simple room, there were some plants and statues, but other than that, the only furniture was a bed and desk.
“I felt that something was amiss with your trial,” Master Ko Pao said. He beckoned Alistair into his room, where they sat on the floor. “Would you like some coffee?”
“I would, thank you.” Alistair accepted Master Ko Pao’s cup of coffee, savoring the pumpkin spices in the drink.
The old man stroked his beard. “So, can you tell me what happened?”
Alistair explained every detail of his vision to the Head Apostle of the Silver Comet Sect. He also took out the golden key, which got Master Ko Pao’s attention.
“There is a prophecy,” he said after spending some time staring at the object, “that has been passed down from generation to generation within the Silver Comet Sect. A day when our ancestors would return and give us the golden key to the future. I did not imagine it happening like this. I pictured a bit more fanfare, I suppose. Sitars and singers heralding the new era. Our stories also say that this will be the age of strife, even more so than our war with the Wasted Realm. That one, is happening just as I expected.”
“So you do know what to do with it?”
“No, I do not,” Master Ko Pao said. In that moment, he seemed like less of a wise sage, and more like one of his students. “I must meditate on the ancestor’s words and find a path forward.”
“Things are changing fast,” Alistair said. “It’s not only the Pathfinder AI and Final Frontier Empire at this point. Your people have been brought into two paradigm shifts at once. I’d say you have it tougher than us.”
“Our people neighbor death itself. There is nothing that will shake us for too long.”
Master Ko Pao jumped up, landing with his cane before stomping his feet on the ground. “Enough talk of the Holy Raviners. We must discuss you. I will personally give your final lesson.”
Alistair perked up at that, following Master Ko Pao to his feet. “I’m ready, Master.”
“Already, I know you can feel the effects,” the old man said, punching Alistair in the stomach. In a testament to his immense skill, Alistair didn’t see the punch coming at all. Yet despite that, it ricocheted off his abs like nothing happened. “All attacks should feel like a light breeze, except those with tremendous force behind them. If you can properly brace for them.”
This time, Master Ko Pao struck with actual intent behind his fists, delivering a palm strike to Alistair’s solar plexus. Once again, he couldn’t understand the fundamentals behind the old man’s attack.
Alistair’s breath faded away, and he found himself coughing on the floor, crumpled up. Alistair couldn’t believe the force behind Master Ko Pao’s attack. It was absurd that such a small frame could generate that much power. He shook his head. I still have much to learn.
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“If you can properly brace for them.” Master Ko Pao let out a burst of air, this time making his attack obvious. Alistair instinctively clenched his muscles before the impact. While the damage wasn’t as harmless as Master Ko Pao’s low effort punch, it still was a fraction of the hidden attack. “To employ the Steel Body at its most effective, you must train your perception. Always at the exact moment before your opponent’s fist touches your body, you must brace yourself. But that is not what I wish to teach you now. You will practice this with Brother Pike these last two weeks. No, what I intend to teach you is the ultimate technique of the Steel Body.”
“I’m ready, master,” Alistair said eagerly.
“I hope you do not regret those words.”
If Alistair thought that he would get a break because he was unconscious for two days, he was sorely mistaken.
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Those last two weeks came and went in a matter of no time. Most of the time was spent with Pike in special training sessions as he shrugged off the lasting injuries dealt by the Final Trial. The rest was training his body back into peak condition and learning the ultimate technique with Master Ko Pao.
Funnily enough, Oliver also went into overdrive, despite having no upcoming duel of importance. It was like he didn’t like seeing Alistair work hard without matching that effort. He brought himself higher in the pack of white headbands, reaching the top half of the cohort purely through grit.
Alistair sparred against Izalia every day. With the Steel Body in its complete form, he was far more of a match for the woman, though they never fought at a hundred percent. While Izalia and Brutus were vastly different fighters, she tried imitating his style as much as possible.
That represented another area of training. Learning about his opponent.
Brutus Caligoris, also known as Mad Brutus the Biter. He was a natural talent, having joined the Church of the Holy Ones only six years ago. At twenty years of age, he was even younger than Alistair.
Brutus’s family did not come from the Holy Ravine originally, but from a far northern province in the Martial League. The people of that land were renowned for their great size, and Brutus was no exception. He was even larger than Pike, standing over two meters. But that wasn’t the area that Pike told him to be concerned about.
As a user of the Steel Body, Alistair would be stronger and tougher than Brutus, no matter how scary he looked. The Holy Ones’ specialty was speed and precision.
Hidden Under Heaven, they called their counterpart to the Steel Body. Like the Steel Body, they underwent their own arduous trial, though, like the rest of the trials, outsiders had no idea what it entailed. Alistair wondered if they had their own ancestor waiting to herald the return of the glory days.
The technique itself took off certain limitations within the brain and central nervous system, improving reaction time while also making one hyperattentive to all stimuli. In other words, the Holy One apostles had ridiculous reaction times sensory perception.
The name Hidden Under Heaven came from one of the main uses of the technique: abusing the blind spots of their opponents. So Alistair trained his sight without sight constantly, always fighting with a blindfold.
Without the blindfold, he also reached a new level. The Steel Body made the biggest difference. Before, he was unable to match the black headbands of the Silver Comet Sect. With the Steel Body, he was easily keeping pace. The added defense allowed him to focus more on offense, whereas before he had to dodge because of the enormous gap in physical stats.
In the blink of an eye, Alistair found himself on the last day before his bout with Brutus. The people at the sect had been wishing him luck and telling him not to be nervous, but Alistair didn’t feel nervous.
Instead, felt giddy. Maybe giddy was the wrong word. Some positive emotion that bubbled up in his throat and wanted release. It was like his body wanted to go in a million directions at once.
Master Ko Pao surprisingly was the one to give him a suggestion—have fun. He told Alistair that there were two types of fighters. For one, the best thing to do before a major bout was to peacefully meditate for hours and hours. For the other, it was to have a debaucherous night.
Alistair had never been that sort of person, even before the initiation, but he was not one to deny the elder martial artist’s words of wisdom. So, he ended up back at the Dragon’s Head Tavern once more.
This time, he couldn’t have any alcohol, but he didn’t like getting drunk much in the first place. He felt like it was more real to have fun without alcohol lowering social inhibitions.
“I got the same room as last time,” Pike said as they walked up the stairs to the second floor of the tavern. “Everything has to be perfect for your last night.”
“Last night?” Alistair raised an eyebrow. “That sounds overly ominous, don’t you think?”
“Last night before your overwhelming victory, obviously. What else?”
“I have to pay you back for that game of War’s Brother,” Izalia said, closely following them with Oliver in tow. “You should not have come in second. Not at all.”
“You’re on,” Alistair shot back.
“I hate that game,” Oliver muttered. “Why are you brutes so good at it, anyway?”
“A trained body is trained mind,” Pike said. “Since my physical development exceeds yours, therefore my mental development does as well.”
“That does not sound right at all,” Oliver replied. “Was Einstein a bodybuilder, Alistair?”
Alistair look up as if he was trying to remember the histories. “I can’t recall, but it seems entirely possible. That would make a lot of sense.”
“You’re no use either,” Oliver said. “Three against one, no fair.”
“Why don’t we give him a stone handicap?” Alistair asked. “It’s an easy way to equalize the playing field.”
“Traditionally, handicaps are only used with children, but I would be fine with bending the rules a bit,” Izalia said. “Pike?”
“Good with me.”
They gave Oliver a whole nine stones advantage starting out. Despite this, he quickly fumbled his initial lead. The game was an intense one, with Alistair starting out ahead. It almost felt like his training had increased his performance, despite there not be an obvious tie between the two. He didn't want to believe Pike's nonsense about becoming more intelligent because his body was stronger, however.
The secret behind Alistair’s lead was an unexpected ally—Dev’rox. Lasker was more right than he knew, since a Go-like game was not only popular on Lisorte, but in the lower planes. With tens of thousands of years of experience, Dev’rox was a veritable master.
“This feels a bit like cheating,” Alistair said to his partner. “Shouldn’t you be resting up?”
“It’s fine, I still have enough energy to do this,” Dev’rox said. “There’s no point in rationing. You’re going to win tomorrow, and we’ll be free of this shithole.”
“The Holy Ravine isn’t a shithole.” Alistair defended his temporary home.
“Says you,” Dev’rox shot back. “It’s toxic to me. Even besides the Devonic Elision Field. It’s like there’s an essence in the air that makes me sick.”
“Oh. You never told me about that.”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Let’s just win this game and get you in a good mood for tomorrow.”
With Dev’rox’s assistance, Alistair pulled out a surprise victory. He was slightly behind the entire time, but every step of the way he kept up with his opponents. In the end, he pulled through with his tenacity and outflanked all three of them to edge out a minor win by only a few stones.
Pike and Izalia looked at him with heightened suspicion after the game’s completion.
“Did some dead master possess you?” Izalia asked.
Closer to the truth than you’d think, Alistair thought. He didn’t feel too bad about using Dev’rox, since the ghost was well and truly a part of him at this point.
“Something like that.” Alistair smiled.
“Oh, hell no,” Oliver swore. “He’s using that ghost of his. Oh, my bad. I didn’t mean to say that.”
That comment led to a whole sidebar where Oliver explained to the two Holy Raviners who and what Dev’rox. Alistair gave him permission after that slight slip up. He was trying to keep the ghost somewhat secret, but after Celeste saw it, he felt like the cat was only going to be in the bag for so long. Plus, they were cordoned away. By the time that they could tell anyone on the outside, the present conflict should have been over.
But there’s always a new one. He couldn’t imagine the Final Frontier Empire letting anyone sit still in their position. Vying for resources and position was eternal.
After they finished playing, they feasted. There was a whole new selection of dishes, delicacies Alistair didn’t even understand how to explain. He introduced the Holy Raviners to the concept of a toast, something that they didn’t have.
He demonstrated by holding up his glass of lemonade. “You could toast to a lot of things. A good marriage for a bride and groom at a wedding, for a good night with friends at a bar. It’s very versatile.”
“Hmm, I think I understand,” Pike said. “Let me toast to your victory tomorrow. Let it be swift and decisive.”
“I also will perform a toast to your victory,” Izalia clumsily clunk her glass against Pike’s. They must have thought that each individual person was supposed to give their own toast. “Give that brute a whopping he won’t forget.”
Oliver joined in on their misunderstanding of toasts. “You better win for me, because if I have to get punched in the stomach one more time, I’m going to lose it. How’s that for a toast?”
They laughed and took a sip, as Alistair had instructed. He would miss these simple times. They came few and far between. He couldn’t imagine that they would come more often either, as he progressed down the infinite path of cultivation.
That night, before entering a deep slumber, he looked up at the night sky from within his room. There was absolutely zero light pollution, allowing for a view of the sky unrivaled in the modern world. He could see so many distant stars.
Infinite worlds full of infinite life. Alistair’s last thoughts before he drifted off were fantasies of the beyond.