Agents of both the Black Horse and the Sanger sects resided in the city, and had successfully hidden themselves during the Order's initial takeover. Afterwards, they had quietly worked to undermine the Order and rescue civilians, contributing over 20% of the current survivor numbers gathered at the outskirts.
Despite it looking otherwise, Ikesia's world of cultivation had its eyes on Eberheim, and word of what happened in the city wouldn't spread like a wild fire - because it already was spreading. It had started the moment Third broke the isolation dome.
Meanwhile, the Witch and Wizard stood atop a building right next to the westernmost of the Five Churches, using its vast divine presence in concert with a double-layered concealment array to hide themselves. Well, the Wizard stood. The Witch was in a low squat, looking over the city with frog-like eyes. Hiding on a battlefield where one was not a participant was, somewhat counter-intuitively, exceptionally easy, at least for masters of Lunar-aligned arts such as these two.
"This might end up more trouble than benefit, if Fourth manages to rally the rest of the Order beneath himself. Not only could the Order become an unstable weight upon the scales, they might throw things out of balance by funnelling even more resources into the Land of Lingering Smoke in the effort to replenish their ranks," said the Witch.
"Somehow, I am not too worried," the Wizard answered. His attention, at this moment, was wholly fixed on the scene unfolding in the city center. So many powers colliding, such seamless application of techniques in support of one's allies, and that wasn't even getting into the conceptual implications of the clash.
Despite how troublesome it might be, the Wizard could not help but be excited. This... This was what a real cultivator battle looked like. It was downright nostalgic. He hadn’t seen one in a long, long while. That War of Fog… It had been far too barbaric for the Wizard’s tastes. The vast majority of it had been cultivators slaughtering mortals and, in turn, mortals using their sheer numbers to butcher cultivators the same way cultivators butchered great beasts. It was nice to see a return to honour and glory, even if it was tainted by something as barbaric as the Third Truthseeker’s desperate bid for a brute-force breakthrough.
"I must admit, I did not expect the Manufactured Paragon’s power to jump so aggressively after her epiphany. Manifesting an Egregore solely through one's pure understanding of a Truth, and a defensive one at that..." the Witch remarked after some time.
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"Your info’s out of date. They’re calling her the Walking Tribulation now.”
“Feh,” the Witch dismissed.
“Far more than a mere upstart, don't you think?” the Wizard asked.
The Witch scoffed derisively: “Leave it up to those conceited fools in the sword sects to see someone achieve more in a year than they have in half a century, and then dare to call that person a mere upstart. On top of all else, a Son of Fate as her disciple! Come on. Old Yaga already decided that the only explanation for her apparent lack of any destiny is that she herself is a hand of fate, brought into the world to guide it back onto the proper path. Preposterous. It’s clear that she is the result of a revolutionary improvement upon the Creation of a Great Man Ritual. If only I could find her birthplace…”
They watched for a while longer, observing the deployment of the Five Knights and the events that transpired thereafter.
At the moment of Zero’s re-emergence from the vortex, the Witch commented: “Huh. I didn’t think Armor Spirit Union would work with a machine.”
She spoke with the same level of interest as one would have for an oddly-coloured animal.
“It’s not so different from golem armour,” the Wizard said.
“I suppose not,” the Witch shrugged. “I suppose his spectacle is wasted on our eyes - do you think we should give that tank-man an epithet? This is the second major cultivator battle he has been in within one year.”
“Three. Rigport, Ubul’s Tomb, and here,” the Wizard corrected.
The Witch countered: “I don’t count Rigport. The Charred Judge and Lady in Red are the only ones who actually fought the Curse-eating General.”
“True…” the Wizard thought aloud. “How about Red Emperor?”
“The word Emperor is tainted. Will be for a while,” the Witch croaked.
“Well he’s got fire, and there’s that paintjob and the vitaphage enchantment on the armor… Blazeblood Kaiser?” the Wizard suggested.
“That one’s good,” the Witch agreed. “How about the blonde? Oh, right, she’s Reaper’s Bride. That one’s good enough. The redhead?”
“I don’t know. His abilities seem eerily similar to the Second King, but then there’s the flame and the fact he somehow got his hands on one of the Onbashira, and he seems to know Itrian Shrine Guardian Arts as well… I must admit that I regret not finding that child before the Walking Tribulation did, but it seems that methods leaning towards the Solar suit him better than ours.”
“Gestalt Magus,” the Witch deadpanned. “That’s what he calls his servitor-armor - Magus Gestalt Dawnwolf. It’ll catch on, I think.”
“I don’t like it.”
The Witch turned her head, smugly looking up at her older brother: “It’s certainly better than the Swampweed Lord.”