Elder Cultivator

Chapter 1007

Inspiration could strike at any time for a cultivator, though not every piece of insight gained would lead to a fruitful outcome. A large part of a cultivator’s efforts were focused around discerning valuable insights from those that meant little. Not just true from false, but ones that fit each individual cultivator.

Though it might seem like cultivators had endless time, that wasn’t truly the case. The depths of understanding required for advancement beyond a certain point required ever more investment of time for small improvements. Anton had begun his journey of cultivation at the end of a lifetime, a full century. Now, he had surpassed seven centuries. At some point, he might have thought he would know everything in such a time. Instead, Anton was aware of more things he didn’t know with every day.

Only in his areas of specialty could Anton really say he knew much of anything. He doubted he could construct the simplest computer, even if all the pieces were arrayed in front of him. Such technology ended up as complex as arrays, and indeed used similar sorts of logic. Anton could probably learn either path, but it would take a time investment that simply didn’t make sense.

Instead he stuck to his essence of growth, and of course the field of archery which he used for combat. Hunting, too, though not much of that lately. Unless one counted slaying distortion beasts. They were like predators that needed to be culled. Sometimes their corpses were useful as well, though Anton personally didn’t find himself in the need of any materials.

It was highly unlikely for Anton to find a bow that could replace his current one, and he honestly didn’t have much desire for such a thing. His bow was made of worldheart and soulstring, and replacing the former would more or less require starheart. Which would mean a dead star, and Anton didn’t want to see that no matter how suited it might be for him personally.

As for defensive equipment, in most cases that was useless. Very rarely was Anton close enough to actually have to consider defense, after all. Even so, he had a robe made of silk from Akrys, woven with quills from phoenix feathers. It would be nearly impossible to find anything matching in flexibility, durability, and elemental affinity. Phoenixes were aligned with fire, obviously, but they also had a hint of reincarnation and spectral energy in them. The silk was merely a requirement for fitting it into a proper garment, produced by some of the most powerful members of the insect population.

Aside from a few specialty arrows, Anton needed nothing more. He had material wealth, but he didn’t really need it except to exchange with people he was unfamiliar with. He certainly didn’t need more. So he left useful pieces of distortion beasts to anyone local, to make use of as best as they could. Aipra had some valuable knowledge about how to make use of such things, given the frequent attacks they suffered.

Rather than searching for a way to make himself stronger, Anton was focused on the rest of the lower realms. Obviously he was not personally involved in the majority of the preparations for the upcoming invasion, but he was certainly involved in the general plan. Less than two centuries… it still sounded like an extremely long time, perhaps, but it meant solidifying their plans more and more.

Word from the upper realms indicated a growing presence of colonies on the border between realms, already larger than they had seen during the short cycle. That was what they had expected, but it still required them to be prepared. They had at most one or two generations of Assimilation cultivators to raise up, and they had to stand against unknown quantities of Integration cultivators. Most likely, there would be Augmentation cultivators involved as well.

While the Lower Realms Alliance was filled with cultivators- everyone was encouraged to cultivate regardless of occupation- not everyone was a warrior. There were all sorts of results possible besides complete annihilation of one side or the other, and Anton actually cared about the lives of everyone in the Lower Realms. Even if he didn’t personally know most individuals, he recognized that they were people and not obstacles in the way of resources or some sort of livestock.

Thus their warriors needed to be the best they could be, for their own survival and for the sake of the Lower Realms as a whole.

Anton knew that the possibility of him reaching some higher tier of cultivation were pretty much nonexistent. It wasn’t a matter of self confidence, talent, or anything like that. He was simply being realistic, as a matter of time. He didn’t even know if there was anything beyond Enrichment to rival Domination. Perhaps the path would be a steady climb without any jumps, but he knew whatever the potential it would take him and any other cultivators more than just a couple hundred more years.

So he did his best to provide others opportunities, not expecting a jump in his own power any time soon. But there was one thing that stuck in his head. Not a method of advancement, but a technique. No, it was too vague to be called that. A foolish dream. A childlike fantasy of what he wished he could accomplish, rather than something actually achievable. Anton judged it as such, and that was with the knowledge that Realm Shot was developing into a viable technique and not just a training exercise that stretched his limits.

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Overall, Anton would say he did the impossible far less than certain sorts of cultivators like Chikere, or even some of his own granddaughters. Amazing feats? Certainly. Treading new paths? Often enough. But all of that was based on things he knew were possible, techniques stretched to their limits.

Anton flew near Ceretos’ star, and was wasting his time. He could call it relaxation, and that wasn’t too bad. He could even say it was training for Realm Shot. That was at least partially true. But mostly, it was just him spending time as he pleased. His head couldn’t be wrapped up in war all the time, or he would break down and be useless. No, there was little point in struggling to survive if he failed to live while doing so. Anton might have accepted his inevitable demise, but that was an acknowledgement of a life well lived. And he planned to keep it that way.

Because, really, it was kind of fun to try new things. Even if he never got anything accomplished.

Anton reached out towards the sun next to him, and the stars of Weos and Rutera as well. That was the part he could manage. The other two stars added together provided less power to Anton than the one he was close to, but he was constantly increasing his ability to draw from stars at a distance- beyond the constant flow inside him, of course.

He drew back his bow, connecting a sort of tunnel between himself and the other two systems. Then he shot his arrow off into nothingness, simply trying to see how far he could go. With the insights Alva had shared with him, he did in fact achieve a greater distance than ever before. That was the result of spatial techniques and steady practice. A bit more energy certainly helped. But none of that was what Anton wanted.

Again and again he shot his bow. Curious passersby made sure to avoid his line of fire, not that Anton could have hit them accidentally. He was well aware of anything within the system, and he didn’t have a particular target. He had a full spherical range of motion, and only the tiniest number of lines would actually result in hitting anything at all.

He formed the tunnels again, releasing them at the same time as his Spirit Arrow flew forth. The results were once again a mere empowerment of himself and his established technique. Nothing new, and not what he really wanted. Who would have thought that stringing together multiple stars would be so difficult? It was Anton, of course. He didn’t even know if what he wanted was possible.

He sensed something, right near where his previous arrow faded into nothing. A proper target, a distortion beasts between systems. If they were normal predators, Anton would not have randomly killed them despite them being dangerous and ugly. Wolves had a position in an ecosystem, keeping balance. They consumed herbivores, among other things, which allowed plants to continue flourishing that fed that very same prey in the next generation.

Distortion beasts had no such role in any ecosystem. Instead, they would prefer to eat it. The whole ecosystem. While distortion beasts had somewhat valuable parts, ultimately they became less than what they ate rather than more. The exact opposite of what Anton wanted, which was every step in a process making something more valuable for the energy put into it.

They were at best parasites. If they could be avoided it was considered good, but eliminating them was better. Anton drew back his bow, weaving a bit of spectral energy into his Spirit Arrow. The unusual properties made it somewhat easier to reach into specific depths of subspace, and he had a pretty good idea where his target might have a vital spot.

Energy from three stars filled him as he released his arrow. He covered lightyears not in years but minutes, in some part through impossible speed but in greater part through simply skipping the distance. First layer subspace was hundreds of times more effective. He could achieve another multiple of that by going deeper, though it was quite difficult.

Unlike targeting most things, however, Anton didn’t have to leave a deeper level of subspace. That was where his target was, and that was where he went as an arrow. Distortion beasts had little that resembled traditional organs except at deeper levels. Anton really wasn’t certain what he was aiming at, but he knew the distortion beast would rather it not be hit. Given the way it tried to pull away, it was worried. Too bad it was a massive target that would have had to jump lightyears at once to avoid Anton’s targeting.

He as his arrow pierced through some sort of outer membrane. He made certain to tear it apart, so the odd sort of ichor or other vital fluid within would spill out. Anton felt himself surrounded by thousands of different energies, not quite integrated into the distortion beast. Previous meals, perhaps, though he hoped not from a recent age. He reached the other side, allowing the energy to detonate and tear apart the back of the organ he found.

Anton waited an hour, then shot again. The beast was in the same general area of space. It seemed to by dying, testament to the power his attack retained- and the ability to target actual weak points instead of merely hacking at the beasts until they lost all functional matter to display to the world. His second attack was unnecessary, though it helped him verify his kill. He would notify someone, in case they wished to salvage anything. Though they’d likely have to dredge into subspace, since it was buried during his assault.

Anton sighed, shaking his head. That was still nowhere near the technique he intended. What was he doing wrong? Was his bow actually insufficient? His visualization of the technique? Perhaps it was truly impossible. His logical side was willing to accept that. But the rest of him wanted to keep trying.

Maybe he needed to speak to other archers about it. However, their insights might not match his… and very few had bound stars, which was a requirement for what he theoretically wanted. Three Squeaks was a good disciple, but he wasn’t quite at the requisite level to help much. Or so Anton presumed. He made a note to speak to him regardless, as he’d often heard valuable insights from those with far less experience.

He just needed to make certain he didn’t spend too much effort on his quest, since he currently believed it to be little more than an entertaining distraction. It would be a shame to miss out on a viable technique by seeking something fantastical.