The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 682: Rallying An Army

Gnar leaped over a wide chasm, the bottom full of sharp ice that protruded from the ground like blades. A simple misstep would have plunged them into a death by a thousand blades. The great wolf howled from his side to the others currently striding up, and one by one, the pack jumped across, carrying the weight of at least two people on each of their backs. Oscar jumped off Gnar and landed on the snow, the soft ground sinking under his feet. He turned back and saw Astrid walking on a bridge of ice wide for one person, herself, as the ice shattered behind her, letting none follow. It seemed she still needed some time.

It had been several months since his arrival in this tundra, and they were no closer to reaching the eleventh land, crossing a mere fraction of the vast distance required. Oscar patted Gnar and walked ahead through the snow. Annoyingly, he couldn't see far ahead, the nonstop snowfall so thick, he might as well be digging through it. He trudged carefully across, the others following slowly from behind. Step by step, his feet scrunched into the snow, but then, his foot tapped on a hard surface, smooth and flat, certainly not rock. It was the jackpot.

Oscar clapped his hands, a burst of wind accompanying the clear sound and parting the snow. It cleared the area around him and unveiled a sheet of ice, glistening brightly under the light of the orbs. Faint shadows lurked deep within, flapping their tails as they swam deeper out of sight, mostly indiscernible but not to him. At last, they found a lake. He tapped his foot several times, judging the hardness of the ice. His sword sang a sharp cry once freed from the sheath and plunged into the ice, carving a circle. Reaching down, Oscar lifted the surprisingly thick chunk. His sword barely managed to cut through the layer into the freshwater he saw flowing underneath.

"Collect all the fish inside, cover them in snow, and store them away," Oscar washed his hands in the freezing water, his bluish veins stirring under the pale skin. He washed his face, shuddering as he dunked his hair in the pool. His group split into trios consisting of a wolf, one of Serit's men, and one of his people. They all knew their partners from the past months of working together. Drying himself, he called out to them before the snowfall hid their figures, "Don't forget to search for other foods around here, grab what you can, and report back."

"You seem well accustomed to it—being a leader." Serit chewed on dry jerky made from a deer they had caught a few weeks earlier. He collected the lake's freshwater into a stone pot and started a fire on the frozen shore, inviting Oscar for a makeshift coffee, as he liked to call it–plain hot water.

"I'm not accustomed to it. Frankly, I'll never be and don't want to be. Once I find my wife, I'm leaving them all to you." Oscar leaned on Gnar's prickly fur, resting his head against the itching white strands. Serit handed him a stone cup of hot water, boiling bubbles and steam, and shrugged. Oscar scoffed at his brother-in-law and sipped, moistening his cold, dry throat. Gnar growled and lifted his head, causing Oscar to spill some of the scalding water on his knee.

'I smell others. They're across the chasm.' Gnar snarled.

"Who are they?" Oscar resumed drinking, not minding the spillage. He put on his helmet and turned to the other side of the chasm, narrowing his gaze to see far and past the obscuring snowfall. "They're not flying any banners or flags, not from what I can see. Whose turn was it? Yours or mine?"

"Mine," Serit replied as he set down his cup, spinning his dagger around his wrist. He smiled playfully and neared the edge, calling out to the incoming strangers, "Hello! May I know who you are?"

The group, around five in total, one being a familiar tiger, halted by the raising of their leader's hand. The woman at the forefront, covered in fur, hid her features, but her bellowing roar echoed wildly to his side, and she spoke in a rough tone, "I am Phoebes Togros, and we are the Togros Family. Honor demands you two identify yourselves! Speak now or spit on our goodwill."

'Togros?' Oscar perked up and swept his gaze over the others. Several decades ago, Demon had led his group against the Togros Family in a show of force. But unlike before, they were missing a few. Oscar shouted, "Where is your patriarch, Areus? Has he passed on from old age?"

"Grandfather never made it to Fallen Heaven. His remaining years didn't match the timing." Phoebes's voice quivered in the sadness spilling from her words.

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"It's a pity. Areus was a fine warrior and leader." Oscar clasped Serit's shoulder and nudged him back, clearing an open path for the Togros Family. He waved them over and backed away a great distance to placate any wariness. He saw them as valuable allies rather than enemies, already having tasted their strength in Demon's memories. With such a group joining them, they'd be quite powerful since Serit's men mainly focused on stealth and espionage. The more front liners, the better, especially in these savage lands. Oscar turned his back to them and said, "Come join us."

"You knew my grandfather?" Phoebes asked, standing near the edge.

"I also know you. Come, we'll talk." Oscar stoked the flames and set down a smooth slab, waiting a few seconds before piling on morsels of meat. The fragrant smell pleased his appetite as the meat sizzled in its melted fat. As noted by Avril, the first thing to do when meeting someone was to offer a meal, which was a principle his parents also lived by. Thinking of his wife, Oscar lamented he hadn't eaten her cooking in over a year. The Togros Family had already crossed the chasm, but they maintained a good distance away, the tiger prowling and licking its fangs, slick with drool as it hungrily stared at the fragrant meat.

"Who are you?" Phoebes held back her tiger as it bent its hind legs, probably eager to pounce and devour the food. She clutched its neck and said, "Trust is hard to find these days, and bringing up my grandfather's name is not in your favor, stranger."

"Sixty years ago. On Oldeye Island of the Lunate continent, your grandfather led an expedition to crush a ragtag group of miscreants who bullied the family of one of your newly married daughters-in-law. You and I fought. Don't you remember?" Oscar unsheathed his white sword, blue flames dancing on the sharp edge.

"You!" Phoebes stared, eyes wide with a feral gleam. She tossed aside her fur cloak, freeing their unique orange hair with black streaks, similar to a tiger's fur. The tiger beside her roared and snarled, sheer hostility sharpening its glare. Phoebes let out a primal shout and laughed heartily, beating her chest. "How can I forget the ones who utterly humiliated our family? Ever since that day, we trained hard for a rematch."

"And you want revenge?" Oscar tossed a juicy steak toward the tiger, but it ignored the meaty morsel before it and still growled at Oscar.

"Nay, that is not our way. We lost, plain and simple. And Togros respects strength above all." Phoebes seemed convinced and joined Oscar and Serit by the fire, followed by the others, who revealed themselves to be the other combatants of that battle long ago, missing only one from the original roster. He didn't ask, wary his words may incite a wronged reaction. Phoebes scraped a smooth stone along her claw, spewing sparks from the sharpened edge. She grinned fiercely, similar to her grandfather's, and pointed her claw at Oscar, "But that doesn't mean I can't challenge you."

"How about we wait for that? First, let's get to the eleventh land and survive. I won't be wasting my strength in a friendly duel." Oscar quelled the flames and piled the cooked steaks for anyone to partake. He removed his helmet, garnering some gasps from the Togros. "I am Oscar Terr, the one with the bounty on his head. Now, will you be an enemy and die here or join us and survive this hellish place?"

"The reward is certainly tempting," Serit nudged one of the Togros as if they were close friends. "But dying isn't worth it, right?" He smiled and played with his dagger, showing off. "Apologies for my dear brother's rudeness. There are far more rewards waiting for you if you join us."

"Like what?" Phoebes eyed him, clenching her claw.

"Brand new elemental grade-four armaments for each of you. A portion of herbs aged over thousands of years." Serit opened his space pocket and poured out elemental orbs, grade-four cores, and various precious plants. Oscar hid a smirk at his brother-in-law's business acumen, his decision to share some of his treasures paying off well. The Togros Family stared at the pile of treasures with a hungry gaze, reaching out to grab them, but Serit swooped everything back into his space pocket. He clapped his hands and smiled, "So, are we agreed?"

"Is there really a choice?" Phoebes forced a smile.

"Yes, you can leave. Go another way and make no trouble with us." Oscar chewed on a steak, the juices dripping down his chin. It tasted fantastic, igniting his weary tongue. It would have been better if he hadn't needed to deal with these people, but at this moment, he required allies, or else they'd all die in the eleventh land. He turned to Phoebes, who closed her eyes in deep pondering, her tiger still snarling at him. "Well?"

"We accept. Besides, we follow the strong, and you beat us before." Phoebes answered and relaxed, feeding a steak to her tiger. It seemed the decades after her loss to Demon had honed her mentality well. Oscar chuckled, recalling how she had lost her control and screamed out at the injustice when Demon beat her tiger into submission and forced her to surrender. With the addition of Togros, he now had quite a sizeable force. He should be fine until they reached the eleventh land unless several Divine Enforcers came.

'Hopefully, we can amass enough people to survive in the eleventh land.' Oscar gripped his leg, feeling it weakening. Even after a few months, his legs sometimes failed him, reverting back to his pitiful state for a short moment. The nightmares haunted his dreams, replaying the scenes of everyone's deaths. 'Am I making the same mistake?' He wondered how many would die under his command again.