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12. Another One

12. Another One

It took some time to make my will manifest, but I was in no hurry. Over the coming weeks I received constant reports on how news of my tournament was being spread, and how the preliminary maps of where the waygates would be located were being distributed.

The opening of a waygate was rather simple for me. I had attuned myself to spacial energies before ascending to the bronze path, and now that I was on the diamond path I was even more proficient than I had ever been. All I needed to do was use two avatars to fold space at the same time and form a connection, then anchor that connection on a formation dedicated to maintaining it.

The waygate could be disrupted by destroying the formation, of course, which would cause space to snap back into it’s usual behavior. But otherwise it should power itself indefinitely on the ambient Qi of Atla.

While the old world wouldn’t have been able to maintain more than a dozen of these waygates, the new Atla was more than capable of holding thousands open at the same time. But I wasn’t planning to open so many as that. One per continent at the minimum, with a few more. I encouraged the cities aside from Mer’cah to bid for who would host each gate. It was a quick way to fill the coffers of the alliance.

The opening of the gate to the northern continent also allowed some of the refugees from there to finally return home without crossing the former wastelands, where the Qi gathering arrays of Lord Loshi had drained the land almost dry. Now, those lands were in resurgence, with animals and insects and plants suddenly feasting on a bounty of Qi.

The journey south had been long but uneventful once they had escaped the undead attacks. That would not remain true for very long as the wastelands gave rise to spirit beasts and plants.

The same was happening all over the world. While the average cultivation level of the people of Atla was rising to the bronze path or higher, so too were the challenges they faced from nature.

This was ultimately a good thing, as I saw it, but it meant that there would be those who failed to rise to the challenge. Atla periodically informed me when a mortal died. There was no real pattern to what sort of mortal drew his attention, he would just interject it into the conversation. And then I would dwell on whether or not that person would have lived had the world not changed beneath their feet.

But the answer was no. If I hadn’t acted, if I hadn’t quickened Atla, then the world would have been corrupted by Ant. People might be dying thanks to my actions, but more were clinging to life in this new, exciting, and quickly changing world that was my son.

Atla’s ability to manifest an Eidolon continued to improve, and eventually he even learned to manifest his clothing with the rest of his body. That was a great relief to the Hien family, as while the girls were becoming close friends with my world-child, they would shriek and run and hide when he first appeared before one of the servants manage to dress him.

In summary, time passed, and things proceeded the way that I wished them to. Billions of people lived and struggled to adapt in the world which I had found myself parenting, and that was good. Many more animals also struggled, and the number of spirit beasts surged. That was also good, but in a very different way.

Ultimately, I stood on the apex of the world, and it was not my place to look too closely at the lives of those struggling beneath me. I would cause problems if I did so, so I remained aloof aside from those in my immediate circle.

Except for now and then, when the strands of fate pulled me towards a certain individual who showed great promise.

~~~~

Toorah sighed as the members of the sect to which his family owed allegiance continue to dissect the formation that Master Little Bug had formed, with their permission, five years ago. They had been told that it was simply meant to tap into the worldwide gathering arrays and siphon off a small bit of energy, and that he would destroy it once it no longer served its purposes. And he had bribed them to get them to cooperate.

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But then everything had changed when the sun had gone out and the world was submerged in perfect darkness, until the world itself began to glow. The formation glowed brighter than anything else, shooting a pillar of light into the sky that had helped bring the sun back.

That had generated a lot of interest in Toorah’s sleepy little village, and now, five years later, he was a disciple in the sect. But a low ranked one, despite having reached the silver path at only fifteen years of age.

Such an accomplishment would have once marked him as a genius, but now it was only average. The Qi in the world since the day the sun vanished was so much denser and richer than it had been that even he, who had barely been able to sense it before that, could tell the difference.

“Toorah,” came one of his senior brother’s voice. “Come here, I have an errand for you to run.”

“Yes,” Toorah agreed, and he fetched the burden, a bunch of rubbings and notes, and went to run them back to the sect.

Thirty miles away.

It wasn’t so bad, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to fly yet like most silver ranked cultivators could, so he was stuck to the ground. As he reached a crossroads, suddenly, his first master appeared before him.

Toorah cried out in shock and dropped his burden.

“Master Little Bug! You have returned! The sect is tearing apart the formation that you built even though we tried to argue that it should be preserved and --”

“That formation has served its purpose. The cultivators of the Green Valley River Sect are welcome to study it, although they will get little benefit from the knowledge they gain without seeing the whole picture,” Master Little Bug answered. “Toorah. I am not really here. This is an astral projection. You stand at a crossroads, and your fate takes you into two separate directions. I cannot tell you which path to take, but I can tell you where they lead.”

Toorah studied the apparition and realized that he could sort of see through it. Huh. “What do you mean, Master? I mean, this path leads to the sect, and—”

“And it leads to a life of servitude as the established families of the sect attempt to relegate the emerging cultivators into lesser factions while maintaining a grip on power. That is why I stopped in your village in the first place, to make certain that they did not have a monopoly on cultivation techniques.”

“Everyone and their sister is practicing the Peach Blossom Dream now,” Toorah said. “Although the grownups took some time to learn it and are still sweating out black sludge in many cases.”

“That is good. Everyone adjusts at their own pace, and while I disagree with your sect on many matters, they will keep the growth of spirit beasts in check during this transition. Your personal fate, however, has another alternative aside from continuing to serve in your sect.”

“And what is that?” Toorah asked, his ears perking up with interest.

“Glory,” Little Bug answered. “If you wish for a quiet life, carry your burden to your sect and pretend that I never appeared. If you wish for your name to be remembered, then take the road to the city of Litha. I will not give you more detailed instructions than that. If you want glory, then you must find it yourself. But that is the direction in which it lays.”

The vision of his master vanished. Toorah stood at the crossroads for ten minutes, then abandoned his package and took the road that didn’t lead back to his sect.

He wasn’t worried about being kicked out, or abandoning his family, or anything like that. He just wanted people to know his name. Even if it meant something silly like “Whoops there’s another one.”

He laughed. It was a funny name for a seventh child.