192. A Long Winter

Fara turned around to face the newcomer. Alistair wanted to take advantage of that, he but he could barely move. Instead, he started dragging himself as far away as possible with his arms. A clash between Fara and Jindor was not something he wanted to be close to.

He then realized two familiar presences flanking the Black Star disciple—Haley and his sister.

They don’t stand a chance, Alistair thought. Unless…

“I’m done with you ants thinking you can challenge me,” Fara said, wiping a bead of blood off her cheek. “Thousand Cuts of the Midnight Divide.”

Immediately, the entire setting of the heating tower was replaced by the central pavilion of a Japanese-style temple. Alistair felt the cold stone against his skin, crickets chirping in the background. A full moon shone in the midnight sky of Fara’s internal space made manifest.

Thin black lines were suspended in the air, filling the pavilion with an ominous aura of death and sharpness. Alistair inherently knew that those black strands could slice him in half with the tiniest of movements.

It was Alistair’s first time being within a true Domain, and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

It was suffocating.

Alistair was foreign. He was an outsider, he was taboo. This was a different reality, a foreign sky that he trespassed under. The Dao itself rejected him. He could barely breathe, barely muster up Mana and Dao energy within his own body. Only nue was unburdened, but he had none left.

Evangeline and Haley felt the same, as he saw them fall prone. Jindor, on the other hand, stood tall, radiating an incomprehensible aura.

“I was hoping to save this for a little later,” Jindor said. “Oh, well.”

Like last time, Jindor unleashed the power of the Reverse Eyes. Reality fractured around his eyes, this time for only a millisecond before returning to normal. Alistair did not dare meet the man’s white pupils, knowing the dangerous temptation they held.

The mighty monk dashed forward, charging Fara with a speed that Alistair could only achieve while [Mindshifting]. Still no where close to her top speed, but as the black lines of her Domain came to intercept him, the strange warren underlying the Reverse Eyes manifested.

Only this time, it was concentrated in a small radius around Jindor and with all his might. Alien creatures emerged from the darkness, given new life in the Physical Plane only to be slaughtered in the dozens by Fara’s Thousand Cuts.

It was clear to Alistair that Jindor would lose the battle, as even with hundreds of alien entities emerged, the Domain killed all life. A Foundation within an Adept’s Domain was like the Earth trying to conquer Heaven.

Jindor stopped within fifty feet of Fara. Alistair watched in apprehension as he saw his new comrade about to die. Even the mysterious capabilities of the Reverse Eyes were overwhelmed by the sheer amount of swarming black lines. Challenging up from Foundation to Adept—impossible.

So why challenge up a realm?

“The White Star,” Jindor uttered.

Just like that, the Heavens opened above. Alistair’s body trembled at the almighty light, the parting of the Physical Plane. The Pathfinder AI’s tribulation couldn’t compare in the slightest.

Rainbow-colored lightning descended from the crack in the sky, shattering Fara’s Domain and Jindor’s warren.

Did the tribulation lightning contain the wrath of the natural Heavens, a primeval anger at the theft of providence for one’s own immortal glorification?

Or was the tribulation a ratification of one’s path, a seal from the divine meant to put those on a path to Buddhahood?

Alistair’s senses were forcibly closed by the sheer power of the lightning. He closed his eyes shut. A forcible hand grabbed his arm, picking him up. Haley.

She and his sister combined attacks to blow a hole in the side of the heating cylinder, escaping to the outside, where he witnessed the entire unit be swarmed with rainbow lightning. It was so bright, it felt like he was beside the rising sun, the crackling of the electricity itself louder than thunder.

After over a minute of the iridescent lightning pouring out from the sky, it vanished as quick as it came.

The heating tower wasn’t so lucky. The lightning had taken out almost the entire top half, leaving the insides exposed to the wild. Wherever the metal had gone, Alistair had no clue, as there were no debris or molten chunks on the ground near the tower.

[Reality Sense] worked again, which he was a bit chagrined about. Not over his Skill, but that in quick succession, it had failed to work twice. To be fair, he had been on death’s door and the Heavenly tribulation shouldn’t count.

Alistair detected nothing from inside, as the Heavenly energies still obfuscated the atmosphere for a few more seconds.

Somone emerged.

Jindor strided out, uninjured. A woman laid impaled on his arm, stricken through the chest. In his hand, he held Fara’s still beating heart.

“That’s a fitting end,” Dev’rox commented with a wry smile. “Oh please, you’ve seen far worse. Don’t go soft on me.”

Alistair couldn’t deny that, but there was something unseemly about ripping out a human’s heart as it still beat.

A darkness slithered out from Jindor’s robes, consuming the heart. Or maybe just putting in a dimensional space, like Oliver’s storage. Alistair wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that Jindor now stood among them as an Adept.

“I apologize for that,” Jindor said. “I wasn’t trying to hold back my abilities, but my master informed me to spend time as a Foundation.”

The shadows subsumed the rest of Fara’s body, leaving not a single trace of the deceased Adept. Even her spirit had totally vanished, which left Alistair a little suspicious, but he wasn’t about to question an Adept.

“Jindor,” Haley said, nodding her head. “You could have broken through at any time? You bastard, I’ve been trying to figure out my Domain for months and you just one up me like that? I’m so far behind now. Jokes aside, thank you. I doubt we would have survived otherwise. What happened to the rest of your squad?”

A grimace overtook the man’s stolid visage. “They’re all dead, Haley. I would have died too, if not for these good people.”

“Kadeus?” Haley asked.

Jindor nodded. “We had all known he was a degenerate gambler and philanderer, but I did not suspect him to be a traitor.”

“You’ll have to tell me how he was able to get the drop on you,” Haley said. “But before that, we’re going to have to deal with this situation.”

Haley gestured up.

“The remaining zombies?” Alistair asked. “If there isn’t another Adept, it shouldn’t be too hard, especially with our own one, right?”

“That too, but I was referring to our unfortunate heating situation.”

The Heavenly Tribulation had destroyed the heating unit. At least, enough of the machines and mechanical insects were dysfunctional that it no longer worked. Thanks to the clever engineering of the system, it would continuously heal itself by sucking in ambient Mana, but that could take days. Their region was close to the south pole of the planet, where it was so cold that only Jindor would be able to survive for an extended period of time.

They split up. Jindor was responsible for Alistair, since in his current state he was parapalegic. They would go to the front lines, while Haley and Evangeline would collect the survivors so they could organize a survival plan.

Jindor, with his newfound power, blitzed every zombie in sight. He was faster than Fara’s top speed, barely perceptible to a Foundation like Alistair. Each punch generated shockwaves that unsettled the snow for hundreds of feet.

“A real Domain amplifies all your stats,” Dev’rox said to him. “Your body contains a true reality, set apart with your own Dao. Of course your strikes, your movements, will be more powerful.”

Alistair didn’t let himself get jealous, knowing the he would arrive at that power shortly. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to trade blows with Jindor. He had been thinking about it for some time, though his fight with Fara confirmed one fact to him.

To become the perfect fighter, he needed to cross fists with more and more talented people. The evolution he achieved against the Adept woman was something that couldn’t be replicated through mere training. Maybe for some unique paths, that was possible, but that was not Alistair’s journey.

When they arrived to the front lines, hundreds of thousands of zombies had begun swarming the city. Alistair speculated that many had abandoned their posts to go investigate Fara’s sudden appearance near the heating station. Despite the official nature of Nuevo Invierno’s reconquest, they didn’t have any military organization. Without direct orders, many of them likely reacted to Fara’s arrival, though they would soon find out their help was useless.

Jindor did 95% of the work. He didn’t use any Skills, just his raw physical power. It was like a fully grown man beating up toddlers. Nothing they could affected him in the slightest, while each punch of his took out hundreds from the sheer force.

Alistair cleaned up the remaining 5% after he had recovered enough to stand on his two feet. He used his Skills to try to keep up—he needed those levels badly.

It seemed that whoever was in charge of the undead army realized they were just feeding their troops to an Adept, as the titans, drakes, and living mages—basically anyone besides the zombie footsoldiers—stopped showing up after the first hour.

Alistair and Jindor split up after clearing the mass in front of them, Alistair going left while the monk went right.

By that point, the effects of not having the heating unit were manifesting. The snow started to pick up, to the point of affecting vision, every breath summoning a cloud of steam.

Alistair used the Upgrade Points he received from leveling up on [Blood Hand]. By now, his will bent his Skill upgrades to fit his desires. He wanted more versatility out of the Tier 4 Skill, so as he entered a sea of enemies, [Blood Hand] exploded into seven, twenty-foot long spikes that pierced through the heads of the zombies.

He was inspired by his deceased friend Caren’s final act—a suicidal explosion of spikes that contributed to George’s death.

The new [Blood Hand] served as an excellent close-to-mid-range Skill to complement his close-range martial arts mid-range [Lightning of Justice], and mid-to-long-range finishing Skill.

With his feet he made sweeping arc kicks, decapitating hordes of zombies as they approached, while dealing with even more with [Blood Hand]. He slowly made his way forward, carnage building up as the undead piled on top of each other to get to him.

Alistair still modulated his Mana output, just in case, so he wasn’t clearing the zombies as fast as he could have. Still, he wasn’t in any danger with their current level of power.

Mostly, he applied his new Tune of the Fight ability, letting the music take over his body. Alistair metaphorically blinked and when his eyes opened he was standing next to Jindor.

He used his over 1,500 Agility to violently vibrate himself until he removed all the rotten flesh of the zombies. To his disappointment, as he looked back at the path of carnage he went down, it was only a few thousand feet. Jindor, on the other hand, had cleared the entirety of his side and looped around, in under thirty minutes.

I’ll blame it on my legs being useless for the first hour.

“The elite troops fled,” Jindor said. “I didn’t think chasing them into the storm would be a good idea.”

“But you’re an Adept,” Alistair said.

“There are Beast Rulers hiding in depths of storms,” Jindor said, squinting his black eyes as he looked at something in the distance Alistair was not privy to.

The stoic monk didn’t explain further, so they circled back into the large station. Snow was beginning to build up in larger amounts on the buildings and ground. Each step created six-inch thick foot prints in snow that was starting to compress and solidify.

Evangeline and Haley awaited them outside of the broken heating unit. With them were around thirty cultivators. Based on their aura strengths, Alistair estimated that they were all at least level 80, with around half being at Peak Foundation. He spotted the girl whose father was murdered in front of her. Her vacant eyes touched his tender heart.

“Who was in charge of this station?” Jindor’s tone and bass voice left it evident that he was in the position of authority, despite never being officially given the vocation.

The girl was actually the first to speak up. “That was my father. He’s dead.”

“Then I’ll be taking over in his stead,” Jindor said. “Does anyone have any intel on the main base?”

A short and bespectacled man raised a nervous hand. “I-I’m Eloin, sir. I was able to contact the other sensory cultivator, but… I fear he might have perished in their attack on the planetary station.”

Jindor stroked his chin. “Taking out our Marble Titan isn’t easy. He’s a Middle Adept. Though if they sent the woman, there could be other Adepts, of course. Eventually they’ll realize something is up when no one shows up on the monthly return trip which is in—”

“Nine days,” Eloin interjected after Jindor couldn’t remember.

“Thank you,” Jindor said. “What we need to do now is survive. When the Empire figures out there’s something wrong, they’ll send someone to rescue us. The Black Star Sanctuary will see to that, I guarantee it. While it strikes me as cowardly, we should avoid conflict as much as possible and hide ourselves. Trying to challenge the enemy when we don’t know the composition of their forces is foolish, especially with this group.”

No one contested Jindor’s frank truth about the combat efficacy of their ragtag squad against Adepts and the army the backed them up. Based on Alistair’s eye test, most of the cultivators he saw were those desperate for an opportunity, and Nuevo Invierno was their last resort. Everyone knew the mortality rate.

“Who even are these people?” the girl asked. “I don’t understand how this could happen.”

“I don’t know,” Jindor said. “I doubt they’re anybody powerful. If they were, why would they send Adepts to infiltrate a random planet in the middle of nowhere? Most likely, they’re some rogue guild from another universe that can’t make a foothold anywhere else.”

Alistair wondered if Jindor’s conclusions were actually merited, though it seemed logical. Whatever the truth of the matter was, his words visibly calmed the others, who were apparently worried about some grander conspiracy than just a bunch of outlaws.

The chill was beginning to set in, and Alistair could see the less powerful shivering. The cold-resistant cloaks weren’t enough.

He glanced at Jindor. “We should find shelter before the storm picks up too much.”

Kadeus stared at the three Adepts who were supposed to be assisting him.

Gloria, a Kinetic Mage who could lift small mountains.

Xu Tai, a Druid that could shift into a white tiger descendant, one of the four Auspicious Beasts.

Protokoptian, an automaton purchased by his father for his use, with a Mythical Profession at Adept, a feat that only Sublimed Machine units could accomplish.

“How did the titan escape?” he asked as they stood in the bloodied hall of what used to be the central hub for all teleportation in and out of Nuevo Invierno. Even as they stood there, new arrivals were slaughtered before they even had a chance to breathe by Kadeus’s gang.

The automaton, a seven-foot-tall golden robot in the wooden puppet form, spoke by vibrating its innards. “We are all Early Adept, and Bakrav is Middle Adept. Such odds are not good.”

“For ordinary Early Adepts, I would agree,” Kadeus conceded. “But you are no ordinary Early Adepts. You’ve been given tools that would make the average cultivator weep out of jealousy.”

Xu Tai shook his head. “This has been the titan’s territory for over a century. Once you go to the academy, you’ll understand.”

These three servants were only a few years older than him at most! Kadeus contained his anger. It was something he was working on. A true sniper needed to be emotionless, devoid of all thought when he pulled the trigger. “I have much to learn, that is true. Will his survival be a concern for us?”

“I sunk my teeth deep into his neck,” Xu Tai said. “That won’t heal properly for weeks.”

“Good,” Kadeus said. “What happened to Fara? I thought she would have easily dealt with Jindor and those Foundations.”

“She’s unresponsive,” Gloria said. “I would assume the worst. There’s no reason for her not to comply, and she showed no signs of being anything other than a consummate soldier.”

Kadeus felt a pit form in his stomach. He should have finished Jindor off when he had the chance. There was something strange about that man. He had chosen not to risk it when the new arrivals were coming to the small station.

I say that, but there’s no guarantee I would have won without taking serious injuries, Kadeus thought to himself. Even with the stake in monk’s heart, he had felt uneasy about taking the large man on.

“And the other stations?” Kadeus asked.

Protokoptian stretched out a hand and brought forth a holographic projection of Nuevo Invierno, showing all the large stations. “We’ve taken all except the one Fara was sent to. Our mission will not be impeded by the presence of a few enemies.”

“Good.” Kadeus tapped his foot on the ground. “Let’s get to searching and not keep my father waiting. If anyone gets word of Jindor, they are to report directly to me, immediately.”

Jindor let the thirty-odd cultivators into the icy storms of the south pole. Ideally, they would trek farther out to avoid detection, but they simply wouldn’t survive long enough for an extended journey.

They ran for two days in the unyielding cold. The weakest five members had to be constantly heated by one of the fire cultivators of the group. Alistair used [Reality Sense] to spot a cave, where they chased out a family of direwolves.

The cave systems on Nuevo Invierno ran quite deep into the planet, with many of the species that weren’t adapted to the cold living living underground. Like Earth, the deeper the hotter, so they explored the depths until they reached a point where it was warm enough to thrive, but not far down enough they encountered stronger beasts.

The stone of the cave was black and chalky, almost ash-like, with the harder parts feeling like they were compressed down from millions of years of pressure. Occasionally, lava would drip down from tiny holes in the cave ceiling, though not hot enough to harm any of them.

As they settled into a cozy section of the cave, Alistair asked Jindor a couple of questions.

“What will happen? I mean, in nine days when the return teleportation is supposed to bring people back.”

“It’ll be a highly unusual circumstance,” Jindor said in a low voice. He walked down one of the four tunnels that connected to the small cavern they nested in, implying for Alistair to come with him. After they were sufficiently far away from everyone else, he continued, “however, it’s no guarantee they’ll actually do anything.”

“How many people were on the planet? Around a thousand, fifteen hundred? My assumption here is that Nuevo Invierno isn’t special and they’re doing on the several thousand zombified worlds. In which case, a planet of this level wouldn’t be their priority. There are Visionaries and Profounds who are much greater strategic assets than Foundations and Adepts like us.”

Jindor nodded. “Your logic is sound, and something I had already deduced myself. It is no good to worry the others like that, so I didn’t speak about it.”

“Then we might have to wait months,” Alistair said.

“Yes.”

“Damn it,” Alistair swore.

Is the Clear Water Sect watching this? Alistair wondered. How much clout do I even have with them anyway? I doubt I’m the most impressive recruit of their yearly batch, at least not yet. Still, it has to count for something that their sect leader made the journey to my planet personally. Maybe I am the most impressive of the batch. I shouldn’t sell myself short.

Alistair offered up part of that information. “I think I’m probably being monitored by a relatively powerful sect, so it’s possible they might intervene sooner.”

“What sect?”

Alistair hesitated for a second before answering. “Clear Water.”

Jindor had saved his life, just as Alistair once had saved his. That would be a bond they would forever share.

“Not bad,” Jindor said. “The Black Star Sanctuary would be better for you, though I wouldn’t dare try to poach you from a sect like that. The Clear Water has an honorable reputation, which is more than I can say for the lot of them.”

“I feel similarly.”

They both felt a rumbling of aura beneath them. The temperature rose several degrees. A powerful Beast Lord, at the threshold of Adept, or Beast Ruler, was rising.

Jindor gave a rare smile. “Why don’t you deal with that? You need the levels more than me.”

Over the course of a few days, the group gradually made their way down. Everyone agreed it would reduce the risk of being caught, so they descended.

Alistair and Evangeline fought at the vanguard, slaying the various beasts that inhabited the subterranean depths of Nuevo Invierno. He thought that the rest of the cultivators would be tougher, seeing as they went to the most dangerous planet for Foundations, but most of them were still cowed by Fara’s display of violence.

Only the teenage girl, Ymira, was willing to help, though the Tan siblings didn’t need help. It was the first time that he and his sister ever fought together for an extended period of time. They practiced their chemistry, and Alistair got to know his sister’s powers better.

As the leader of the Northeast Order Freehold, he had always known his sister’s powers, but rarely got to experience them up close.

As a Spiritualist, she had deft control of her Dao energy, which she could weave into Pure Mana. This created a spiritual fire that she could shape into different objects. Nothing like the variety of a true Flamesmith, but enough to make a quarterstaff for close quarters or an orb to throw long distances.

She also could read people’s souls with a touch, as well as to speak with and partially control the recently deceased. That, Alistair found interesting, as he had less control of that than she did. His ghost cultivation worked on spirits who decided to roam the Physical Plane. If they were going to the afterlife, the cycle of Samsara, like the vast majority of the dead, then he didn’t have a strong claim on them, as they weren’t actually ghosts yet.

Alistair leveled up twice to 83 in the period. He let Evangeline do more of the heavy lifting since she was further behind, so she got up to 75.

None of the beasts posed that much of a threat to him. For his sister, it was another story, so he monitored the combat closely and made sure that she was never in any true danger.

They continued to descend until they had reached a temperature that was getting uncomfortably hot for the majority of their group, which was several miles underground. At that point, the beasts were getting stronger, to the point where Alistair had to be wary.

Beast Rulers began showing up. Because of the differences between beasts and cultivators, Alistair could fight a realm up, but not easily. That was where they stayed put.

The walls pulsed with lava just out of sight, illuminating the black and ashy rock. Pale blue flowers bloomed on the ground, smelling of springtime and jubilant celebrations, a hearkening to the days before winter storm and zombies.

Nine days passed in the flash of an eye. Jindor whipped them into shape like a drill instructor at a boot camp, having them travel over a thousand miles per day laterally.

A few hours before the return trip was supposed to happen, they stopped in a tiny, cramped section of the cave. Everyone huddling together only added to the heat, and most of the people there were sweating bullets.

Jindor had them stop there, though he didn’t explain himself. They waited in silence in the blistering heat. Most took to cultivating, the Mana-rich environment being perfect for any fire or magma cultivators.

Alistair did the same, though he focused his mental attention on Jindor. The tall monk was razoring off his hair with his bare hands. Alistair did the very same to keep his hair from growing too long, but it was funny to see someone make a buzz cut using their hands alone.

But more interestingly, while he cut his hair, he was looking up. Straight up, as if he were staring at something on the surface.

Wait a second, Alistair thought. Could it be?

The calculations didn’t take very long. If there was one thing the Intelligence stat affected mentally, it was rote mental processing power.

Alistair pulled Jindor aside, taking him out of his trance. “We’re underneath the central station, aren’t we? Just a couple dozen miles underground.”

“Perceptive, are we?” Jindor asked. “You’re correct. I’m seeing what’s about to happen.”

The Reverse Eyes are a cheat code, Alistair thought. Is everyone at the sect going to have inborn advantages like that?

“I think you’re safe in that regard,” Dev’rox responded. “Some people are born special. A bloodline like the Reverse Eyes is that something special.”

Jindor continued to stare up for another hour. Then he nodded at Alistair. Their understanding was mutual. Now, they had to wait to see if anyone was going to come to their rescue.