The cities of Tenoun’a were not connected underground, at least not through any route Anton was informed of or could pick out from the various tunnels. That left them disconnected and semi-independent, coordinating mainly on the matter of their raids.

Though Anton would consider both Tenoun’a and Shrenn resource poor, their requirements to draw upon water from deep underground- even more so for Tenoun’a- meant they still had access to precious metals, and the energy to forge them into something of use. That was how they managed their ships, both the structures and the formations necessary for them to actually work. Despite the lack of resources and limited natural energy the planets had been populated by cultivators as long as anyone remembered, so they didn’t develop down the mainly technological path of Rutera.

The second and third cities were much the same, an elite ruling group in charge of much of the ‘wealth’ the cities accumulated. It was pretty much impossible to do away with something like that where cultivators were involved, but it was sad to see when the average citizen on Ceretos had better options for what they would eat each day. Sure, they probably had less gold inlays and smaller houses, but those didn’t mean anything. Especially when the rooms mostly sat unused. Nobody needed two reading rooms when they could only use one at a time.

Anton didn’t have much more hope for Xasall. It was just another city- and like the others, there was no indication of any attempts to trade with other cities. Which probably meant that aside from raiding not being a proper lifestyle, they were probably being wasteful with their efforts. And while the first was much more condemnable, the latter was more likely to be considered as a problem by people involved.

At any point, Anton could change his mind and just decide to destroy all of their ships and starports. He was severely tempted several times. Anton had to remind himself that they were mostly just trying to survive. They were just bad at it.

The young man Anton saw in front of him was the most prominent figure in Xasall. A Life Transformation cultivator at one hundred years of age. Not bad. Not exceptional, even given the planet’s circumstances, but not bad. His name was Aurelianus, and he was currently explaining the costs of the raids in both materials, manpower, and life.

“One question,” Anton just had to day it. “Did you ever consider just moving to one of the moons of a gas giant here?”

“... what?” the man was stunned by the sudden change in direction.

“The ice moons. With all of the frozen water.”

“I don’t, um…” Aurelianus cleared his throat. “I’m sure it was considered,” he lied. Not that he was saying it hadn’t been, either. He just truly didn’t know. It was clear to Anton it hadn’t come up in his lifetime. “But it’s not all frozen water. At such extremes, even atmospheric gasses can freeze. Attempting to live there would be difficult. Inhospitable. Many people would lose their lives.”

“More than on constant raids?” Anton asked. “When a ship coming back means some people don’t eat, disrupting your very industry that keeps those ships being built?”

Aurelianus frowned. “Perhaps the matter could use some… reconsideration.”

“It’s just easier to get resources from somewhere that isn’t actively trying to kill you,” Anton shrugged.

That was the thing that frustrated Anton the most. Certainly, some previous generation of Shrenn had not stood up to their proper obligations, but all of the known generations of Tenoun’a had only resorted to a single option. And it seemed neither side had considered colonizing other planets or even just migrating everyone to Shrenn where they could be part of the labor force and eke out a somewhat prosperous lifestyle.

Of course, with so many generations of bad blood between them now, any sort of resolution was going to be difficult, requiring radical change. Anton just hoped it didn’t involve too much blood. The one good thing about cultivators running things was that there were very clear heads to chop off when it was necessary.

Before he left, Anton needed to make sure he pushed things towards some possible future where things weren’t awful in the area, and preferably nobody got wiped out. After that would be a number of years where he couldn’t influence the events, so when he did return he couldn’t be certain how things would have developed. But he could hope.

-----

In recent years, many fighter pilots from Rutera had shifted to other duties, scouting systems and planets and other non-combat related things. Nobody wanted to pay for unnecessary military personnel, after all. Though with people living longer, there were still many people who remembered the wars. Outside of the military individuals, who were mostly alive, if they survived the wars.

Technically Ty was not performing any military maneuvers at the moment, though he was on reserve. Nobody could take away his personal ship, especially not after it was bonded to him. Being an Assimilation cultivator made him one of the top handful most powerful people on Rutera, so they’d have to be willing to lose a lot to make the attempt.

Wings cut apart the clouds. Not just his, but also others. They weren’t just flying about, but intentionally maneuvering- and the cutting apart the clouds wasn’t a metaphor, either. When they were done, inverse sky-writing was the result. People cheered below.

Some military cultivators would resent putting on a show, but Ty and his flight group found it an excellent way to practice without having to worry about destroying their ships and figuring out repairs. There were amazing things that could be done to put things back together without having to replace parts, but either they would have to bear the price or painstakingly do it themselves.

Training coordination and precision flying was probably the second best way to spend his time. As he was coming in for a landing, the best way showed up by almost slicing his ship in half. The surprise strike might have been considered dishonorable by some- but Ty knew that was the best way to keep him ready for real action. And Chikere knew when to stop.

Inside of the cockpit, Ty Quigley felt a sharp pain on his cheek, blood trickling down. He hadn’t fully avoided everything, though he did both get annoyed at and appreciate Chikere bypassing the outer shell of his vessel. Annoyed, because it was a defensive layer he often relied on. He did appreciate that she didn’t actually cut it in half though, because despite the effort put into its construction she absolutely could. The only thing she couldn’t cut apart was space itself, and that was only half true.

Ty pulled away from the other ships, back up into the air where he would have more space to maneuver. His ship moved in impossible ways, gravity affecting it as he pleased. He stuck to no single orientation, neither facing the woman who was a swarm of blades nor pulling away from her. Currently his ship had no ammo- the consequences of being geared up for civilian entertainment- but that let him focus on the bladelike structure of his ship and how he had to counter the incoming attacks.

Ultimately, Ty had to pop open the cockpit of his fighter- something it was expressly not intended to do unless he was properly ejecting- and stand on the wings so he could maneuver his own body. The ship was also himself, and his blade, so he was still able to control it. He also had a proper sword he carried with him, which he used to block Chikere when she suddenly appeared in front of his face.

“You’re dead,” she said.

“It’s not fair,” Ty sighed, “You have like a century of practice more than me.”

“And you belong in this place. I need to get back to the upper realms. I’ll miss these spars.”

“Are you going? Now?” Ty asked.

“Not quite yet,” Chikere admitted. “But in a couple decades.”

“Aren’t you still a century or more from Augmentation?” Ty asked.

“Yeah,” Chikere nodded, “I thought about it, and I won’t be able to properly advance here. So I’m focusing on learning how to ascend without the breakthrough between stages. Or I could take a ship, but half of it would be junk no matter whether I was in the upper or lower realms. Plus, this is an opportunity for significant growth. I still believe I can do it.”

“Unfortunate,” Ty shook his head, “I suppose I should learn what I can from you while you’re here.”

“Or you could go look for someone better.”

“With a sword? Hard to believe such a person exists.”

“They do,” Chikere said. “Whether they will remain better, that’s up to them. For example, though, the Harmonious Citadel’s sword saint should be more skilled with a sword than me.”

“Isn’t he just higher in cultivation?” Ty asked.

“They go hand in hand,” Chikere said. “At least, when it comes to the difference of a full stage like that. Or maybe I’m wrong, but nobody would let me fight him.” Chikere flexed the fingers of her right hand, a robotic prosthetic. “Now they’ll have no excuse to stop me. And the upper realms will even be able to maintain this thing when I get back, if I’m unable to keep it in shape myself. It is part of my body, so I’d prefer to handle it.”

“What do you think about that kid named after you?” Ty asked.

“The what now?”

“... The kid? Chidi? The son of your long time battle partners Catarina and Timothy?”

“They had a kid?” Chikere’s eyes widened. “After all this time?”

“Was that… not what you gave her the medicine for?”

“Oh, that’s why she needed it,” Chikere nodded. “I didn’t actually know what it was for, but she was stubborn about admitting she needed it. So, a kid, huh?”

“How did you not know this?” Ty asked.

“I dunno. How do you know? You haven’t been to the upper realms.”

“I talk to people,” Ty said. “And there are communication devices, you know? You should have some.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, nobody’s contacted me for a while anyway.”

“Because you didn’t reply?”

“... Maybe,” Chikere shrugged. “So, this kid. What do you know?”

“Uh, well,” Ty scratched his cheek. “He was born without eyes, but he’s already cultivating. He’s friends with someone named Aconite.”

“Does he use a sword?” Chikere asked. “If he’s named after me, he’d better.”

“That’s what I heard,” Ty said.

“Interesting,” Chikere grinned, looking towards the upper realms.

-----

Chidi suddenly shivered.

“Are you cold?” Aconite moved up against his legs, her fur managing to maintain its softness despite how it also acted as armor.

“No, I just had a weird feeling,” Chidi said, looking around. “Like someone I didn’t know was watching. Or like… a sword to my neck.”

Aconite looked around, sniffing. “We are still near home. You should be safe. If something comes, I’ll stop them.”

“Thanks,” Chidi said, scratching the head that was nearly chest height for him. “You’re just gonna keep on getting bigger, huh?”

“It is odder that you will not.”

“I’ll get bigger!” Chidi countered. “A little bit. I’m not the one eating all sorts of weird things. I’ve heard that will stunt your growth.”

“I do not just eat weird things. I intentionally expose myself to poison to build up an immunity,” Aconite said. “It is a very human thing to do. It’s not weird.”

“Okay, fine. The poison thing isn’t that weird,” Chidi admitted. “What about the time you ate a rock?”

“It smelled like flesh,” Aconite said bashfully.

“What about those rotting bones?”

“There was still nutritional value there!” Aconite complained.

“You threw up. And I had to stop you from eating it again.”

Chidi felt Aconite’s head turn away as she softly growled, “I could not let anything defeat my stomach, for the sake of my training.”

“Nobody’s making you do this, you know,” Chidi said. “You could just admit that it was a bad idea to chew on poison herbs for that one battle.”

“Has it not been useful?” she asked sincerely. “We have taken out much stronger prey together.”

“I suppose,” Chidi admitted. “Though I’m not a fan of having to filter the poison out of everything we catch.”

“Some of it breaks down when cooked. And the rest will help you build up an immunity.”

“I think I’ll have to pass,” Chidi said. He couldn’t help but keep tilting his head, trying to catch the sound of feet shifting or the clatter of a sheath. Maybe the scent of metal. But try as he might, he couldn’t feel what caused his earlier distress. So he resolved to ignore it, which was the best he could do for the moment.