There was a pleasant meal with Catarina’s parents and Timothy’s father, as well as of course the young cultivators themselves. It was better than the cafeteria, though not by much. The Order had exceptional cooks and fresh food as well, but there was something about smaller scale home cooking that was just more satisfying. Maybe it was just the company. Anton certainly appreciated it.

The conversation mostly consisted of catching up with what had been happening with Timothy and Catarina. A few months was a long time for them, and they’d developed significantly.

Kellan Weston, Timothy’s father, sighed. “I do miss having you around to help out. Those cultivator muscles can do a lot of work. I had to hire a replacement.”

“I’m even stronger now,” Timothy flexed.

Anton nodded, but didn’t have much to add to the conversation. Nobody needed an old man going off on stories about himself, and he wasn’t really in a mood to share them regardless. Eventually, however, Flora Riley asked about him. “So what about you, Mister Krantz? What’s your story?”

A vague enough question that he had an answer. “I was mostly a farmer my whole life. Grew up in Dungannon, far to the east. I got into cultivating… very late in my life.”

Catarina’s father nodded in sympathy, “It’s quite difficult, isn’t it? When the members of the Order came by, Catarina and Timothy were tested to have some potential. I tried some of the steps to begin cultivating…” Jasper shook his head, “But it’s harder to get into when you aren’t young.” He avoided mentioning how much older Anton was. At least twice his age, even if Anton looked a bit less wrinkly lately. “I understand the benefits, but pushing myself that hard just didn’t seem like it would pay off.”

“Yes…” Anton replied, “You need sufficient motivation to truly begin.”

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Flora spoke up, “So, you said you lived out to the east… my mother used to live out there. Didn’t like the small country life and moved to Edelhull. Though I ended up out here anyway,” she smiled at Jasper.

Anton nodded, “It’s not for everyone. Some like the hustle and bustle of cities. Sowing fields, raising animals, hunting… all suited me just fine.”

Kellan commented, “Cultivation must be a nice change for you. I know it’s work, but you don’t have to move your body so much.” He saw the twisted grin on Timothy’s face, “What?”

“I’m pretty sure he moves now more than ever,” Timothy said. “He climbed up a silo to shoot arrows at giant eagles attacking Thuston. And his bow…” Timothy shook his head. “It’s not something non-cultivators can use.”

The rest of dinner continued uneventfully, and then it was getting late.

-----

Before Anton had time to settle into the spare room, Catarina was inside shuffling things about. That included pushing the bed to a different corner. Anton just watched, since she requested no help. Besides, she didn’t need any. She’d gone through the full tempering of her muscles for the sixth star. Anton had offered guidance if she wanted it, but she politely declined. However, the sounds Anton heard from her courtyard indicated she took up the active style of body cultivation he thought was most beneficial. She might not have tilled rows of soil, but she worked her body without relying solely on energy. Her muscles would be a bit weaker than those who had done a prime tempering of muscles, but her fighting style worked well enough without. The added power she now had would still ultimately be useful, just not critical to her success.

Catarina fiddled with the slats for the window and turned a small standing closet. None of the features of the room were more usable in their current positions, but she stood up proudly. “Done.”

“With what, exactly?” Anton asked.

“An energy gathering formation,” She shrugged, “As much as I can, anyway. Mom made me put the rest of the house back. My room is also set up.”

Anton nodded. He could feel the concentrations of natural energy increasing, though he couldn’t pick out the exact details that supported that. It wasn’t anywhere near what was around the Order, even in Edelhull, but it was at least a step or two above where it had been which was a similar concentration to Dungannon. Certainly not weak, but not particularly powerful either. “I appreciate it. I couldn’t have done it myself.” He’d looked into formations after seeing their utility, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the details. If he wanted to learn, he’d need to devote months at least to develop his thought process, just to start learning. He certainly couldn’t afford that now, though perhaps if he later found himself with time… he shook his head. That was quite unlikely. He was glad for Catarina that she was naturally suited for the learning required.

She left the room to him, and he started browsing the Ninety-Nine Stars again. There was one particular oddity in the technique. It wasn’t as if it was kept secret, but there was something missing. The final step for the hundredth star- because it was supposed to reach the hundredth star. That was the summation of the first nine primes, which meant in actuality… Ninety-Nine Stars was incomplete. But so far, nobody had reached the hundredth star, as far as was known. The equivalent cultivation level for other techniques was also in the realm of mystery, though it was possible there were some cultivators in far-off countries that had accomplished it and remained… existent. Anton wasn’t sure if cultivators exploding or transcending to other planes was correct- though the former was certainly possible. The latter was quite hard to test… especially since he was still ninety-three stars short.

Anton focused his energy inside of himself, taking advantage of the increased density in the surroundings. While he would normally move around while cultivating, the exact circumstances didn’t allow for much motion without creating noise that might wake others. Besides, tempering the marrow didn’t have much he could physically make it do, short of something like cutting himself to try to force it to replace his blood. Perhaps getting his blood flowing faster would suffice, but he would save that for when he could be outside.

-----

In the morning, Anton awoke as the roosters began to stir. Though he was on a smaller farm than what he’d developed over generations, there were still familiar sounds of the world waking up that it made. Anton pulled himself out of bed and went outside to see the chickens. “Hello there, little ones. Feed will be coming for you soon, I’m sure.” He would have done it himself, as thanks for staying, but he didn’t know where it was… and of course using other people’s things without permission wasn’t something that would be taken well.

He heard footsteps coming outside not long after. “Oh. Mister Krantz.” Jasper Riley was carrying a bucket of feed, “Did they wake you?”

“Would have been up anyway,” Anton smiled, “I was a farmer, remember? Need help with anything?”

“We couldn’t possibly ask you to do anything. You’re a guest,” Jasper replied.

“And I’m old. So what? I’d rather not sit around and rot.” Anton’s eyes scanned the area. “Could fix that fence, or weed a few rows, help fill that firewood shed… there’s always work to be done, isn’t there?”

Jasper sighed, “Well, if you insist…”

Anton took the chance to do every single thing he’d spotted. It wasn’t that the farm was poorly run, but it was a bit much for two people to handle. And things would forever crop up even if they hired some help. That was just how things were.

Timothy and his father passed by early as well, heading off with a third strong man into the woods not far off behind the few nearby houses- the Rileys, the Westons, and two neighbors he didn’t know.

Jasper watched Anton, clearly worried he would overwork himself… but Anton hadn’t yet done anything that would have strained him much even before cultivating had made him feel forty years younger. “I’m impressed. You really know what you’re doing. That’s experience for you.”

“A hundred years of it… minus maybe five while I wasn’t walking around.” Anton grinned, “Though I wouldn’t say that I was very helpful for a few years after that, either. Still needed someone following me around so I didn’t tip over the feed bucket.”

“A hundred…” Jasper shook his head, “You sure don’t look it. Not that you’re exactly a spring chicken, but…”

“Most my age are six feet under, right?” Anton nodded. As long as he didn’t think about anyone specific, the morbid humor of age amused him. “I was thinking I’d hunt something, boar or deer or some such. Who has the hunting rights around here?”

“It’s mostly open to anyone. Though you might ask some of the hunters about the populations. They live over thataway. I recall hearing deer were populous. Flora would be glad to have some venison to work with.” Jasper nodded. “Her mother, Ashlyn, that was the only thing she liked about country life. Fresh venison.”

Anton almost flung the hoe in his hand away, but managed to keep his grip and gently hang it by his side. “Ashlyn…” he turned to Jasper. “I assume she looks much the same as Flora, like Catarina?”

“Grandmother to granddaughter share similar looks, yes. Why?”

Anton did his best to keep his voice steady. “Was she called Ashlyn Krantz?”

“Krantz?” He shook his head, “No, she’s Ashlyn Bognar. Though…” Jasper squinted his eyes at Anton. “It could have been. Flora’s brother… almost looks like you.”

Anton had to breathe deeply so that he wouldn’t snap the hoe in his grip. Maybe his impression when he’d first seen Catarina hadn’t just been random thoughts. Not every single one of his grandchildren had stayed in Dungannon. Ashlyn was one of the oldest. Having two more generations after her wasn’t so crazy. The Krantz family had lost contact with those who had moved away for various reasons, and while he hadn’t exactly forgotten their existence… they hadn’t really registered as family. Living and safe… elsewhere in the world. “I think we should speak with Flora. It could just be the same name, but we need to find out one way or the other.”

Jasper nodded and followed him towards the house.