Aaron was half bluffing. That attack had been powerful, but a Champion doesn't split atoms without putting a lot of effort into it. He had spent a third of his Arcane Energy on that attack. After having also received attacks while fleeing, he had less than half of all his energies remaining.

That meant he didn't have the energy to deal with Fifteen Champions unless he was lucky, and he didn't believe in luck.

However, he wasn't alone. The fifty Five Star cultivators from the crusade should be able to pressure the enemy a little, and that would allow him to kill more of them. Bymor was almost completely spent, but he should be able to kill one or two of them. It would be a tight victory, as he had expected even before he started the fight, but a victory nonetheless.

The only reason he didn't attack at once was that it would cause his Five Stars to finally get attacked, now that there weren't puppet Champions for the crimson warriors to focus on.

The enemy Champions looked at each other, undecided for a moment. They had lost five people already, and they also weren't in peak condition energetically. The wind blew Aaron's robe. He put his hands behind his back and waited for their decision. Bymor approached to stand by his side.

They retreated.

Aaron watched them go with an impassive look, then ordered Bymor, "Build a defensive perimeter. Use any items you have to make sure as few people as possible are required to maintain it. I will soon conduct a public lecture on cultivation to all who were loyal to me in my absence."

"Yes, herald."

There was new respect in his voice and it wasn't hard to guess why: Aaron had just killed a Master in a single blow. Aaron expected most people to feel the same. That had been a weak Master with lacking defensive skills though; he wouldn't have been able to do that to kill the Timelady. In fact, he was almost sure the Timelady could've defended against his mortal annihilation skill if she had wanted despite her state back then, though it would also be costly for her.

He turned away from the enemy Champions when they disappeared on the horizon, collected all the corpses around, then flew toward the two allies he had almost killed. He found them in the healing tent, a big one filled with three dozen beds. Priests and other healers could be seen tending for a few patients. The two were lying unconscious on beds, already being cared for by Jil.

"What happened to them?" he asked while already diagnosing them himself.

"I... don't know." She seemed shocked at her own inability to tell what had happened to them — not strange considering how arrogant she was. "It looks like they just... got old."

To Aaron's surprise, his analysis said much the same. They were still linked to the tokens he had given them, which they had stored in their pockets. He wasn't taking any energy from them, so they weren't aging anymore. He unlinked one of them from it and watched as the woman, still unconscious, drew a breath of relief. Her face looked much more peaceful too.

He frowned. He had felt nothing special happening as he unlinked her from the living formation. His best theory was either system rules or a Truth. Truths were too ephemeral for a mortal to feel. Even he could only feel the shackles of those that affected him, and only barely.

Whatever it was, it was clear that living formations came at a cost. It explained why the enemy hadn't used it. And that was just the cost he could see; there might be others hidden.

Aaron would avoid using it in the future. He wasn't completely against having people give up their lives for a greater cause in a battle, but taking their very life from them was only to be done in the most desperate of situations. Today hadn't been such a case, he might have run away before the Great General arrived if he had wanted. They had almost paid with their lives for little gain: a dead weak Master, some dead betrayers, and only that.

For now, the best he could do for his two Champions was to let them rest. After they woke up, he would honor their sacrifice for him.

He unlinked the second Champion, again feeling nothing as he did so, and took their tokens away. "You did well," he told Jil. "I'll lecture the crusade on cultivation later today, but that will be of limited use to a Devout like you. Come meet me later and I'll impart knowledge on healing on you."

She looked almost scornful at his suggestion for a split second, clearly not believing he had anything to teach him. He had killed a Master, yes, but that differed completely from healing.

To her credit, even he barely detected her scorn before she hid it and said in a plain tone, "Yes, herald."

"Also bring these two to me when they wake up." Just because he could feel things in a five-mile radius, it didn't mean he would go around doing errands if he could have people come to him. His time was too valuable to waste like that.

"Yes, herald," she repeated.

Aaron nodded to her and left the tent. He focused on the poisoned people in the crusade and found them still okay. That kind of poison penetrated deep into their bodies before showing any symptoms. He would use them to teach Jil some diagnosis techniques since she obviously had no way of detecting the poison from a distance.

Then he found Bymor in a command tent and went there. "Don't mind me," said Aaron, "I only need to recover my energies."

He sat and meditated.

Former High Sentinel Alamor'avoth Salarin shar lo'Yor had seen a lot of things throughout his long life.

He had seen the weak grow powerful and the powerful fall, he had witnessed the coming of Heroes and the fall of empires, he had been there as many gods Ascended and others were refused entry in the heavens.

So, he liked to think of himself as someone experienced. He had even received pleasure as a woman — once — and felt the pain of birth — also once — but found that he was a male through and through. The only reason he was currently inhabiting the female known as Tari Salast was to hide from some purists who knew of his gender identity and his dislike for using women.

Tari had been a terrible therapist who used her influence over her patients to do terrible deeds. Psychological torture was the lesser of her sins. No one had missed her when he took over her body fifty years ago, and he had hurt no one else ever since.

It had been a close call. His Traveling Soul class allowed him to take over the bodies of others, but those bodies also had to be powerful enough to support the strength of his soul. That was becoming harder and harder to find in weak people, and it was never a simple task to take over the body of a powerful cultivator with none the wiser.

He had been eyeing Illyria's king for a while now, a terrible human being who thought only of himself. However, he ended up becoming a Protector of the Light, which made him impervious to Alamor'avoth's class skills. Then, one day, a woman with the strongest soul — and a properly tempered body to hold it — he had ever felt entered his office.

Alys Tyren would be the perfect host. Not only would it help him hide from his pursuers for longer, but she was also powerful. Unfortunately, he had heard about her in passing before and knew she was somewhat of a good person. He would never touch her in normal times.

This was no normal time. Tari Salast's body was giving out to old age, and he had to replace it fast. He avoided killing the "innocent" when he could, but he put his life first when it was necessary. That had only happened three times in the thirty-seven thousand years since he became a Traveling Soul, but he wasn't proud of even that little. He was honest enough to admit to his fault in those terrible deeds and hypocritical enough to do it again if needed.

He almost pounded on her at first sight but held himself back just enough to feel Divine Energy for the first time in a very, very long time. Tyren carried a Divine Beast like a domesticated pussy on her arms. The Nine-Eyed Nightmare Panther still had only two eyes open, but it would terrorize the world once it grew up a little. Why Shalar allowed it to live was beyond Alamor'avoth.

He was wise enough to give up on Tyren at once. She had been claimed by the Divine Beast already — or so he thought.

Then she told him her tale.

It was a tale of such wonder he doubted her at first, though all the Psychic skills he had hijacked from Tari Salast told him she was telling the truth. He tested her here and there and eventually was convinced. The Divine Beast belonged to her, not the other way around.

And around all tales was the name of Aaron Ironblood.

Alamor'avoth recognized Ironblood for what he was at once. He himself was also a former Immortal, though one native of this world. Shalar had stripped that of him when the system came, though he kept living for tens of millions of years merely by not using his stored Divine Energy. Only then had he been forced to pick a class and bow to the system, and he had chosen one that allowed him to keep his immortality even outside the little game of gods Shalar had created.

As much as he hated Shalar, he was the evil he knew, and Alamor'avoth wasn't interested in a new overlord. "Tari" insisted she should meet Ironblood for therapeutic reasons, but he actually wanted to make sure the man would be no threat. To his surprise, Ironblood recognized Alamor'avoth's old soul in a single glance, something even Shalar had failed to do.

Ironblood wasn't just a former Immortal, he was an experienced one. Ironblood was a threat. Alamor'avoth was ready to flee when he was surprised once again as Ironblood simply didn't care about him at all. His former Priestess woman acted as any brainwashed member of the Priesthood told to hunt for Soul Travelers like him, though she had been properly tamed already to not vocalize her disgust after her master accepted Alamor'avoth's existence. Alys Tyren, so wise in some things and so naïve in others, had no idea what a Soul Traveler was or how close to death she had been.

At first, Alamor'avoth took Ironblood's nonchalance as a ruse, but throughout the dinner, he was convinced. Ironblood did nothing to hide from the Psychic skills that analyzed him without touching him. He was either a skilled liar or telling the truth.

So, that nonchalance became a ticket for Ironblood. Alamor'avoth would observe, but only report him to Shalar if he thought Ironblood would be a worse evil if he took the world for himself.

Alys Tyren's Divine Beast woke up during that dinner — which, by the way, included another tamed Divine Beast. Alamor'avoth tested the panther through Alys Tyren, and the results were that indeed, the Divine Beast was fully hers. Even more shockingly, it was already adapting to her position. Alamor'avoth had never seen a Soul Contract that effective.

That had been surprising enough, but not shocking. Never shocking. Alamor'avoth was just too experienced. Maybe not as experienced as Ironblood in analyzing other people's souls, but he felt confident in himself.

But surprise turned into disbelief, and disbelief turned into shock, and shock turned into awe when he Alamor'avoth heard Ironblood expound on the Dao.

Ironblood was so far down the road he didn't even call it Dao. The elusive concept had been broken down into Laws and Truths, Concepts and energies, half of which Alamor'avoth had never heard before. There were layers to the power of those things, and though Ironblood refused to name Spiritual Energy, the way he perfectly divided Liech's eight energies into the characteristics of Spiritual Energy and Divine Energy made it clear what he was talking about.

He was a genius. An utter and complete genius. Alamor'avoth had believed that Ironblood had killed Thenor's Great General by luck, but now he knew the truth.

Shalar had to kill Ironblood before Ironblood grew, or Shalar would die.

And that day, for the first time in tens of millions of years, Alamor'avoth relaxed. And as his body relaxed, he cried, for he felt hope again. His battered spirit, which had chosen to submit to the man who had taken everything from him rather than die, was reborn. Shalar...

Shalar might die soon, and that was wonderful news.

Alamor'avoth wouldn't get anywhere close to the incoming war, he wasn't suicidal. But he would steer some things from the shadows. Just to make sure the wrong words didn't reach the wrong ears before Ironblood was ready.

Ironblood would never know it, but he had just gained a spymaster.

As his heart was reforged anew and the fire of life was rekindled in his soul, Alamor'avoth heard Ironblood's teachings and learned more about this world's twisted energies in three hours than he had by himself ever since Shalar made them.