The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 666: In Dream And Reality

The ground quaked as Volten charged, reaching out a fierce kick. Oscar watched in shock, failing to rouse his Ein or flare his Prinstyct. Volten closed in and snapped his leg, driving the heel into Oscar's waist, an incredibly heavy blow that launched him off the ground and flung him to the side. His jaw clenched hard, gritting past the pain. Oscar rammed into a hard surface, a groan echoing from the impact as it rattled his bones and shook his organs. It was a memory or a world in the mind, but it hurt like hell.

'What the hell?' Oscar noticed he hadn't landed on a hill, rock, or broken ship. He was stuck against thin air. An invisible boundary locked him inside. Upon closer inspection, he watched the surroundings outside the boundary distort. Oscar nudged and smacked his hand against the invisible wall, unable to breach it. The ground past it was a blur, but the one under his feet remained clear and stable. Looking over, he realized he was stuck inside a certain area with Volten, who charged again, already in motion for a punch.

Oscar ducked under the attack and leaped away, gaining some distance for his mind to ponder. Right now, his Ein and Prinstyct were unusable, clearly blocked and restricted by some unknown force, probably the spell that conjured this strange world of memories. His legs worked fine, however, unlike in the real world. As Volten dashed toward him, Oscar kicked off the invisible boundary and leaped over, still needing more information. Firming his stance, he generated Reis. At least that worked, but not any of the techniques. He could only boost his power and speed.

"Figured it out? For this one, we can only use our physical prowess and technique." Volten said, brushing off the dust from his white robes.

Oscar said nothing and narrowed his gaze, focusing solely on Volten's movements. He took in a deep breath and lowered his stance, ready to counter, and indeed, Volten resumed his brutish charge, significantly faster this time as if he had been holding back for Oscar to figure out the mechanics. Still, now serious, Oscar sharply rotated his body and swerved past Volten's punch, narrowly avoiding his blow, and struck his back leg with a kick. Still, Volten didn't flinch or budge. Heck, he didn't show any reaction other than a downward punch, diving straight for Oscar's head.

Oscar snapped his head to the side as the fist descended, breaking the ground underneath as a loud boom resounded from the impact, a thunderous strike that might have killed him. He spun on his hands and lashed another kick straight for Volten's waist as a form of revenge, but a large grip crushed on his collarbone. He heard nothing but the winds blasting in his ears as his eyes rolled around the sockets, vertigo straining his mind. Was he flying? No, Oscar recalled the many times his master tossed him in a similar method, and he knew what came next, tensing his entire body. His back met the ground with a loud bang, and the harsh surface squeezed against the unrelenting force that smashed him down.

Every muscle ached, and bones creaked. Luckily, Oscar had prior experience and was prepared for the impact, a lesson he learned after many agonizing kisses to the ground. He needed to get away and put some distance, but Volten's iron grip still held onto his collarbone, refusing to let go as veins popped over the large knuckles. Desperate, Oscar punched the wrist with both fists, the fingers loosening slightly, and brought down his head, tearing the grip off. From the momentum, he flipped forward and, before Volten could react, landed a stamping heel kick.

It was Volten's turn to kiss the ground, the false ground caving in as his head sunk deep. Oscar raised his arms and clenched his hands, intent on smashing Volten like a hammer on metal. But he felt a tap on his ankle, and staring down, he saw a hand swiped across his feet in a slashing motion, flipping him in the air. Sensing the danger, Oscar huddled and protected himself, the arms crossed into a thick shield, withstanding a heavy blow. Volten had kicked him, his arms sore and aching from the attack, and flung Oscar. Skipping on the ground like a rock, Oscar hissed as his skin skidded along the wartorn field, cuts and scrapes decorating his face.

"Good defense. Someone taught you well." Volten smiled as he spoke, catching up in a quick dash. Oscar aimed for the right moment, patiently waiting for the attack. When Volten raised a fist, Oscar dug his feet into the ground, planting himself firmly like a rooted tree, and rebounded the force, driving an elbow into Volten's gut. It had been a long time since he had fought without Ein, Meld, or Duality. Thankfully, his master's lessons were engraved deep into his bones, instinct carrying his actions, guided by tactics.

Regrettably, it was not enough. Volten blocked his elbow and responded by swerving to his back. Oscar refused to relent and pivoted to combat him. Blow after blow, kick after kick, punch after punch, Oscar fought the Volten ancestor, not backing down. After a certain point, they both dropped their guards, not bothering to block or dodge, receiving each other's attacks wholeheartedly as they responded in kind. Oscar shouted and drove a fist sideways at Volten's jaw. The same happened to him, and their heads snapped to the side.

"Enough. You have fought well, young warrior." Volten raised a hand, halting Oscar in place before he could retaliate further. A heat surged over Oscar's body, and he saw his injuries fading away as if the entire battle had been an illusion.

"Was the fight necessary?" Oscar cracked his neck, but Volten simply smiled and gestured for him to follow.

The invisible boundary appeared to have vanished, the distortions of the outside fading into clarity. Oscar walked behind Volten, carefully stepping on the small gaps between the masses of corpses. Despite it being a memory, he still felt a need to respect the dead. Volten's foot stomped on the last step before one could reach the peak of the hill. Oscar halted, seeing the old warrior lower his head and avert his gaze. Regardless, Volten seemed to have found the strength and boldly stepped forward, breathing heavily, a lonesome figure standing on the peak.

Oscar could feel the sadness. Whether it was because he was standing in the memory or because Volten looked more like a weak old man full of regrets, both painted a saddening picture. Oscar joined him on the hill, a breeze, reeking of rot and blood, wafting by. Before this point, he had only seen a multitude of bodies sprawled on the ground, but now, from this hill, he beheld the true terror of war. Mountains, not hills or mounds, but mountains of corpses ascended high and spread far. Every single one was looking at him, their dull eyes unblinkingly gazing into his soul, dead man's eyes, ghostly stares from beyond with expressions of regret, peace, compassion, anger, and more.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I stood on this exact hill. After a long battle against the Caerulumen, I, alone, survived. I knew many of their stories. So many spoke of their past and their aspirations. One answer was consistent through all I've talked with. What they will do once the war is over." Volten sat, shoulders slumping. "I had all the power of Talos and the Ancients, the gift of Reis, and more. But I failed to save even one person here. Can you imagine that? One. Not a damned one."

He sighed, his voice somber and low, "I could not shed tears or scream my heart out. I was a weapon. I merely stood on this hill, carved this scene into my memory, and went on to the next battle. A weapon can't linger where it is no longer needed."

"Why didn't you quit? Give up." Oscar asked.

Volten smiled wryly and rose, not minding the dust on his knees this time. "Next."

…….

"Ah! Renn~! Where are Mom and Dad?" Gloria groaned, dropping to her knees, which dipped into the hot sand, jolting her back to her feet. She was exhausted, licking her dry lips, which had not tasted water for several days. In the several days since the opening of Fallen Heaven, Gloria and Renn miraculously ended up together. At first, she was delighted but realized it was just them, two Lower Marshal Exalts, the weakest in Fallen Heaven.

"Renn!" Gloria spotted her older brother carrying on by himself and grumbled, rushing over to pinch his ears. "Are you even worried for them?"

"If whining about it worked, they'd be here by now, following the noise of your complaints." Harsh as ever, Renn gripped her wrists and dragged her along. "They're far stronger than us."

"But Mom has her…issues, you know that! And Dad can't walk and also…." Gloria didn't finish her sentence. She recalled the many times Dad would have a seizure or heart attack. Hopefully, the two were by each other's side. Otherwise, she feared they might go crazy, or…she shelved that dangerous thought aside.

"And again! Whining won't help!" Renn shouted at her, ears reddening from heat and frustration. He sighed and shook his head, patting hers. "I'll get us through this."

"I, as well, young miss." Someone interjected, and Gloria groaned, palming her face. She had forgotten this one. Was it lucky to have found him or bad luck that it was Auren, the other Lower Marshal Exalt in their group? Auren walked onward and exhaled deeply, somehow enjoying this. He smiled cheerfully, "I have faith in my Lord and Lady that they'll certainly arrive in the eleventh land. All the damned documents say fate guides everyone to their destination. I'm sure we'll meet them, for that is fate!"

Gloria giggled and smacked her knees, feeling better from Auren's strange optimism. Renewed and invigorated, she brushed her brown hair and tied it back, the tail dangling by her hip. She couldn't lose out if Dad's weakest subordinate had so much hope. Whistling past Auren, Gloria whispered, finding it fun to whisper even when alone, "You're a cheerful man. I'll put in the good word to Aunt Maia."

Auren flushed red like a ripe tomato. Auren fell in love with Aunt Maia, a fact obvious to her, who noticed his brown eyes perking up and cheeks reddening each time she mentioned her. 'Be more like Dad and Mom when I try to tease them. Though, does Aunt Maia even want to be with anyone?' Gloria dragged her feet along the dunes and slowed, lagging behind as a sullen mood overtook her previously joyful one. Aunt Maia hadn't contacted them at all, not even to her Mom. She didn't even know if Aunt Maia was alive.

'Can we talk?' Gloria thought out as if her thoughts could reach her aunt.

"Gloria!" Renn called out, and she sensed a rising Ein, hostile and directed at them.

Setting her staff into the sands, Gloria shuffled her feet and surged her Ein, erecting dense radiant shields as many flame spears rained down. She frowned at the small group of Exalts who attacked without warning. As Renn charged in and Auren scampered around to be a nuisance, Gloria locked eyes with an enemy on the left, winking with a bashful expression as if she were a young maiden discovering her first love. Her seduction spell worked, making the man go limp for a moment; a quick, decisive second for her to enchant Renn's legs with speed, stumping the other attackers who lost sight of him, caught off-guard by the sudden burst of speed. The one she had seduced regained his senses, breaking her spell, but it was too late. Renn's dark sword sliced off his head, which plopped on the sand with a low thud.

'Success!' Gloria cheered and turned her gaze to another, their group still disorganized, and placed him under a seduction spell. Long ago, when she was a fresh Exalt, Aunt Maia taught her a powerful seduction spell. Unlike her aunt, Gloria didn't favor wearing scant clothing to deepen the desire for the spell to work. She favored her Mom's style of prim and proper clothes more, giving her a pure, noble look. Apparently, a pure look and reserved clothing also tugged on men's heartstrings, causing the spell to devastate them.

'Ah, right. Aunt Maia always grumbled about Dad.' Gloria spread a holy light, healing her brother and Auren. Her aunt sometimes grumbled that the spell might have worked if she had dressed like Gloria's mother and changed her expression. Gloria focused on the battle and supported them from behind.

After a few minutes, they killed off the rest, leaving no survivors. Renn scoffed and used a dark spell to corrode their bodies away. "They were too weak."

"Or you're too strong." Gloria nearly gagged as she averted her gaze from the bodies, almost all corroded to the bone. Auren picked up the space pockets and armaments, keeping inventory of their spoils and wares. Situated in the middle of the battlefield, Gloria knew they had to run as Renn urged them all to hurry away. But one of the dunes collapsed into an avalanche of sand, raising the level of the desert to swallow their knees. Aghast, Gloria cursed at the figure charging toward them, the Ein of a Greater Marshal Exalt paralyzing her.

It all happened so fast. A flame sped past and struck the enemy, who defended in time and countered with a powerful earth spell, the sands piercing into the fire. An explosion shuddered the air and rippled across the desert. The fires settled, and a familiar woman stood before her, blazing a bright red flame. Her arm was gone, but the fires converged, regenerating it. Gloria could not mistake the long white hair and knightly uniform. She smiled, tears streaming down her face from joy. "Aunt Maia?"

Aunt Maia turned, revealing a pair of crimson eyes. However, she said no words and turned back to the figure. A hot blast of air kicked off the sands into a swirling gale. To Gloria's shock, a pair of wings made of pure flames emerged from Aunt Maia's back, a single flutter unleashing a wave of flames, turning the sand below into hot glass.

'She's a phoenix?' Gloria widened her eyes, stunned by the magnificent sight. The wings seemed as if they had always belonged on that small yet confident back, the same that cared for her along with her mother. Her aunt had done the impossible. She stifled her cries. Aunt Maia was reborn.