Chapter 607: Paths Around Deadwaste

Juray was a veteran of two incursions now, but she had never seen anything like this. When the elites had asked her to come north, she had readily accepted, and what met her was an endless stream of bodies.

It began with casualties from the Elemental Nations, Waterborn who had been slaughtered by the new invaders. Their techniques tended to tear bodies apart, which was why they desperately called for mana-based healing that could enact more dramatic changes. She could reattach some severed limbs, and heal holes that hadn't punctured too much of an organ, but those who had been torn in half were beyond her help if they weren't already dead.

These invaders filled her with a new form of an old fear: not for herself, since they were far away, but for all the fighters she loved. If the invaders really had phased power, then Raghi would be as helpless against them as she was. Inafay and her husband were risking death just scouting them. Even the elites had to treat this as an impossible disaster.

That was when she had realized just how dire things were - even with more injured bodies coming in from the initial conflicts, the elites pulled her away. This time to help their own, because Fornil and the other healers had reached their limits.

Because the Goralian front had gone so well, Juray still had extra stocks of potions, ones she had prepared for Raghi and the other hunters. Her best, made with rare components, had been treated as godsends, and she had brought a few elites back from death's door. Then all of her high quality healing potions had been absorbed dealing with other serious injuries, then the lower quality ones.

Now she was back to bandaging wounds and bitterly thinking about how she'd gotten what she'd wanted.

She was being taken seriously as an Herbalist, taking a role in the defense of the Frontier that she had long believed was impossible. But given what they were facing, she could hardly celebrate.

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They were like gods here, and all Kojajix wanted was to go home.

Some of the others were cheering around the fire, or gleefully smashing the treasures they'd stolen, but he huddled next to it, cold despite all the flame. Everything felt thin and attenuated here, even the flame. Eventually his stomach had adjusted to the miserable food, and the clothes didn't feel so scratchy anymore, but he still felt empty.

"These people just need guidance," Yangix was saying. "They've done the best they can with weak cultivation and other abilities, but someone needs to bring them back to the real world."

"Fuck that," Jonijix said. "We can live like kings if we just get used to how shit everything is. The women seem charmless, but if you just look at them, some are built for sex. Just gotta adjust."

"I'll have nothing to do with your debauched kingdom, but there's land enough for all of us. They said there's three continents, right?"

"No, we stick together." Quorthix stood away from the fire, his eyes shifting all directions. "Those strong ones... you've seen they can harm us. If we split up, they'll cut us down with sheer numbers."

"Bah, we've killed half of them and scared off the rest. We aren't going to live in fear, not when we're the most powerful people in this world. Coming to the Deadlake was the best thing that ever happened to us."

As the others debated the merits of these plans, Kojajix listened in disbelief. They'd been ordinary sailors not long ago, men who had gotten in a few fights, maybe running from a murder charge at worst. How had they come to view themselves as tyrants?

It would be easy to believe that this had been placed inside them. For all that they tried to forget about it, something had taken over when they had seen that man-shaped monster. The power felt so similar to the gray man that Kojajix had to assume this was why they had been sent: to exterminate that abomination. And he would like to believe that the gray man also turned them into bloodthirsty animals or brought out their worst traits.

Except, shivering in front of the fire, Kojajix couldn't make himself believe it. When he thought about the boasts and dreams of the men, he thought that this had been within them all along... they had yearned for a fantasy of strength, and when they got it, they revealed a vicious self-righteousness. They weren't better than the tyrants who had lorded it over them, they just didn't have enough power to be tyrants.

He couldn't really imagine a future anymore and felt like he had no idea what would happen. Some of the men imagined setting up their own little kingdoms and all Kojajix could think was that he was a criminal with blood on his hands. The cultivators had attacked them, but what had the nice people who controlled water ever done to him except give food and clothing?

The fire was so cold, he just wanted to go home and sit next to the miserable little fire in his old rags and eat his mother's thin soup. If this was really a weaker world, that hut would be paradise compared to here. But when he thought about the stains on his sword, Kojajix didn't think he could go home again.

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After begrudgingly finishing her cultivation, Omilaena sat back in her seat and stretched. She was primarily focused on her Physique, but faced with a threat like this, she couldn't ignore any significant resources available to her. Even though her cultivation worked differently, when she examined the shimmering ice on her arm, she thought she was close to a breakthrough.

At least she could lean back and luxuriate in the seat. Zin Nim had clearly saved the best for herself, because this was a plush Cloudspire vessel. There were wide loveseats probably intended for cultivation, but Omilaena couldn't help but think they were large enough to comfortably bang in. One of them was even big enough for Kai, which could have been fun.

Yet Zin Nim didn't use any of them, instead standing at the front and staring forward with grim determination. Omilaena sighed and pulled to her feet, slipping up behind her wife to embrace her.

"Don't be so stiff," she whispered into the other woman's neck. "We may not be able to relax, but this has become a marathon, not a sprint."

"We are leaving one danger to enter another," Zin Nim said sternly, remaining very stiff. "We need to remain focused."

"Even you can't stay that focused forever." Omilaena slid a hand down, caressing the other woman's stomach. "Come on, dual cultivation would even be one of our most effective paths forward. And if you're really concerned about optimizing your training, the journey before we reach Lostwreck is the best time for it."

"That is..." Zin Nim shifted oddly, frowning back at her. "Your logic is correct, but you are only justifying your own desires."

"It can be both."

They remained together, but it became clear that Zin Nim wasn't going to soften up. Omilaena sighed and just hung off her for a while, staring at the ocean ahead. The location of Lostwreck had long been known by the elites, it was just too much of a threat. Once they arrived, they really would be too busy to do anything else, presuming they weren't dead.

As much as she wanted to make her wife relax physically, Omilaena realized that what Zin Nim needed now was conversation. Well, she could do that for her sake. What strange places her life had taken her to.

"How are you feeling?" Omilaena asked.

"I... don't know." Zin Nim was silent for a time, then sighed and relaxed back against her just a little. "When I came to Deadwaste, I thought that everyone here was weak barbarians. Now, these invaders are treating all of us the same way."

"That cultivator has a lot of power, but I'm not impressed. If you can set up a fight on equal terms, you'll crush him."

"It's more than that. Krysal was a mess of factions, and we hoped the incursion would unite them all. Now... all three continents are being treated as a single mass, facing an outside threat. I cannot imagine Cloudspire and Rosemount uniting, much less either assisting Deadwaste. We can't forget what we know about the broader world now... what will become of us?"

Those were deeper questions than Omilaena had expected, so she let the conversation flow, coaxing her wife into less tense frames of mind. It was correct that their world had changed, but the truth was that it excited Omilaena: she had taken an undeniable step toward the higher planes she knew existed. Now she faced a threat of brute force, but if she survived it, she would discover the truth. So many of the problems she faced in unraveling the secrets of power might have been because she was working with only half of the puzzle pieces.

Their world wasn't three continents, though: the fourth lay ahead of them.

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The invaders had chased Kai all the way to the ocean, following even after he could only sense them spiritually. Given how determinedly they had pursued him, he half-expected them to plunge into the water after him. He did his best to lead them away from Water Union settlements, to a relatively empty section where they'd do less damage.

At the shores of Deadwaste he finally left them behind as he streaked out over the ocean. Part of Kai hoped that they would be compelled to pursue him, returning to sailing instead of harming anyone on his home. As he flew on, he knew that was a false hope.

No, he had to assume that they were terrorizing his home continent. Not as bloodthirsty as the incursion, assuming that they stopped raging and tried to make themselves rulers, but human cruelty could be worse than monsters. The elites would find ways to fight back, and everyone would seek to defend themselves, but they couldn't ultimately deal with this threat.

This threat that might only have come to his world because of him.

As he flew, filled with grief and uncertainty, Kai drifted on the edges of consciousness. He discovered that he could partially sleep, letting his monstrous instincts take over to keep him moving. After eating some aquatic monsters and spending hours coasting half-asleep, he was feeling much better physically, but that couldn't clear the haze within his mind. Even if he believed this was the only viable strategy, every part of him was conflicted about it.

Savage bestial instincts insisted that he was fleeing, abandoning his lair and his wives to the enemy. Monstrous instincts didn't care about any of that, they just wanted to consume the invaders. His human instincts, and they were no better than instincts, tried to believe that this path would take him back to everything that mattered to him.

Even if he was leaving Deadwaste. Even if he didn't know how long it would take. Even if there was nothing but ocean on every side...

In the sky ahead, Kai saw a golden light, and all his instincts converged toward hunger.