Godslayer Lysette: Chapter 231

Chapter 231: Theories of Cultivation

Lysette and the others continued their Cultivation for several hours following Lavenna’s departure.  Between the four’s combined efforts and the almost oppressive concentration of ambient Essence within this inner sanctum, each of the Cultivators saw remarkable progress in such a short time.  Ari and Dani in particular, with both of them being wholly in the chamber and considerably weaker than the two demigods, were able to increase their strength by nearly half by the end of the day.

Lysette was impressed with how solid Ari’s foundation and Cultivation path was.  It wasn’t perfect by any stretch— there were a few cracks and a couple of places along one of her techniques that could have eventually grown problematic in future years.  But it was even more solid than the already sturdy foundations of the Rosari siblings, highlighting once again the extreme care that both the Academy and Domarian military were placing on the sustainability of their Cultivators.

But would that remain true going forward?  In times of relative peace, it would be easy to seek sustainable, long-term paths to greater power.  Just as it would be easy for Lysette to disavow her demonic powers if there weren’t a need to accrue strength so quickly.  But the longer the war did drag out, the more the nation would need people willing to take greater risks for quicker power, with potentially deleterious effects.

Lysette remembered Serrena’s own Cultivation path and how perilous it had been before she had been given the opportunity to refine and repair it.  In retrospect, perhaps only her at-the-time still unawakened divinity was keeping her from full collapse, a fate which was likely little better than what Amalia had suffered after her near-death and subsequent rebirth by the phoenix root.

Thankfully, Amalia had recovered.  Not fully, at least not yet.  She was most of the way back to where she had been before being installed as Lysette’s priestess, but still only halfway to where she’d been prior to the second attack on the Academy.

“Ari?” Lysette asked.

“Yes?”

“Are you aware of any treatments for Cultivation collapse?”

“No.  Why?”

“I’ve been using my power to guide and nurture your Cultivation path, and I noticed that both your and Kristil’s Cultivation is incredibly sturdy, strong, and stable.  As though almost too much care was given to avoiding Cultivation collapse.”

“There is no such thing.  Cultivation collapse is the death of a Cultivator.  Even if one’s life could be spared, they would never again be able to Cultivate.  Were you not taught this at the Academy?  If so, I will have to formally chastise your instructors later for failing to properly stress the importance of avoiding such things.”

“I was self-directed.  Relying on my godly intuition to advance rather than direct instruction.  And it’s not impossible to restore someone after Cultivation collapse.  I have done it before myself for one of my followers.  But hearing how vehemently you stress it, we should probably assume it is impossible by any means short of direct divine intervention.”

“I see.  But why?”

“I have been informed in recent days that the power we know as Cultivation is the power of the gods themselves.  And it is by the authority of the gods over the system which governs Aimarion that humans have the ability to Cultivate.”

“The authority of the gods?  Is it not by random chance?”

“No.  Originally, no humans could do so.  But over the three million years since Aimarion’s most recent re-creation, the gods have given power to champions, power which then propagates to their children.  That is how I gained my divinity, and I have since used my divinity to unlock the power of Cultivation for some of my followers.”

“You… gave people the ability to Cultivate?”

“I am surprised this is not widely known information.  I understand my not knowing this, but I thought this would be documented among researchers over the generations.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.  And I’m sure plenty of ancient knowledge has been lost over the eons.  It’s not unheard of, considering Aimarion has apparently been around for three million years, and yet Domaria has only been around for a few thousand, with much of that being filled with war rather than study and research.”

Lysette nodded.  “In addition, some individuals have managed to accrue enough fame and worship to change themselves into deities, accessing the system themselves, and with it gaining the ability to do the same to their followers as well.  And finally, a few gods managed to have children with mortals.  See Serrena’s family history.”

“I don’t disbelieve you, but I still don’t understand why they wouldn’t do so if they could.”

“Power and control,” Mirae said.  “By restricting the amount of power ordinary people have, it becomes easier to control them.  A single Cultivator as powerful as you are now could subjugate an entire village.  A hundred could level Domark, if it didn’t have Cultivators of its own to defend itself.”

“I don’t–”

“You wouldn’t do so?” Lysette said.  “Is that what you were about to say?  I promise that, if you were given the orders, you would find a way.”

Ari sighed.  “I don’t want to admit it, but I know you are correct.”

“And it’s not just physical power.  It’s also economic control as well.  Cultivators from the wealthiest, most powerful clans live in ostentatious mansions atop a city in the sky.  And while I did not grow up nearly as poor as some, my priestess, Amalia, has told me that she grew up exceedingly poor.  As in, she and her family struggled with having enough food to eat at times.”

“Domaria has more than enough food.  I don’t understand.”

“Because so much of the wealth of this country is owned by such a small section of the population.  While I was at the Academy, I had food richer, tastier, and more decadent than any I could have ever thought could exist back when I lived in Osstia.  And much, much greater selection than anywhere else I’ve ever been.  And yes, to admit the hypocrisy, I did partake more than I needed to.  And enjoyed it more than most things in life.”

“You and your custards, Lyse,” Dani said.

“But while people in Ciricu were terrorized by their nominal rule, the Archduke of Terea, and the people in Gnaria and Osstia struggle to provide for themselves, families throughout Domaria— probably throughout Aimarion— send their children off to Academies in the hope that they might make it as a Cultivator.  And might be able to live a better life than the one they left behind.  And, if they get extremely lucky, survive to start a minor noble family like yours and send some money back home.”

“What’s wrong with that?”  Ari asked.  “If anything, it’s laudable that people are willing to work so hard to help out their families.”

“I see no problem with earning a life of relative comfort after service to your country and community.  I respect and support that much.

“But everything else?  About how one’s ability to do so is tied to who they were born to or if they were lucky enough to curry favor with the right deity?  It’s all not fair.  And even then, if you look a bit beneath the surface, you see the true iniquity of Domarian society.

“Too many people are forced to cow before elite Cultivators, living in fear of their wrath.  Too many lives are thrown away in the pursuit of this and other worthless wars.  All while the top nobles and their inner circles continue to Cultivate and live sequestered lives of opulence far away from the danger we’re all putting ourselves through for their sake.

“And that is going to change.  That is why I intend to unlock the power of Cultivation for everyone.  And that’s the way we’re going to win this war.  With everyone doing their part.  Everyone growing more powerful collectively, side by side.  Both because that’s the way it ought to be, and so that if I ever do lose control, become the next Lilit, everyone can band together and stop me.  This is, by the way, a commandment to everyone here.”

“And this,” Mirae said, poking Lysette’s shoulder, “is a reminder that you need to stop going off on your own and trying to do it all yourself!  I know I have told you this a hundred times by now, love, and I will tell you a thousand more if I need to.  But now it’s even more urgent than ever.  Because your mistakes aren’t just going to be paid for by you.”

Lysette lowered her head.  “I know.”

“Yes, I know you know when you tell me that you know.  But will you remember that you know this when it’s time to actually involve all of us in our fights?  Because, and again, I feel like I need to say this outright, this fight isn’t just about your petty revenge against Asterion anymore.  I know I can’t stop you from seeking it, and I surely won’t try— he needs to pay for his crimes with his life.  But this is about everyone’s hopes, and for a future for all of humanity.  It’s…  It’s too important to trust this to you alone.”

Ari’s mouth went agape with shock.  Dani had a grin on hers, as though she were cheering Mirae on the entire time.  Lysette’s face mirrored the former, until it melted into a contented smile.

“Thank you, Mirae.  Thank all of you.”

“By the way, Lyse,” Ari said.  “I’ve been meaning to ask since I saw your true form.  What’s with your left eye?”

“Oh, it’s an artifact called the Scrying Stone.  It allows me to see over long distances, as well as see currents of ambient Essence and the subtle tells of Essence being manipulated by Cultivators.”

“What…  What happened to your other eye?  Do I want to know?”

“Oh, nothing bad.  Just tore it out a few months ago when I got this.”

“Wait?  Tore it out?  Wasn’t it painful?”

“Nah.  Installing this, though?  Easily a hundred times worse.”

“Just tore out your eye to implant an artifact to replace it, and you’re playing it off like it’s no big deal.  If I hadn’t heard all that stuff about Lilit and her need for power for myself, I would call you daft.  As it is, I will still call you shortsighted, undisciplined, and absolutely reckless.  And yet, I can’t deny that everything you’ve done is effective, either.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult,” Lysette said.  “So I’ll choose to see it as the former.”

“It was intended that way, yes.”  Ari seemed less than convincing.  “In any case, what shall we do now?”

“Continue to Cultivate for as long as possible.  I’d like to go on for another day if possible, given how dense the Essence is here.  If you two need a break to sleep or rest, you are welcome to.”

“No,” Ari said.  “Neither of us can survive entirely on the prayers of others like you two can, but both of us have progressed far enough that we can easily go a day without sleep or food if we need.”

“I’m good to continue as well,” Dani said.

And so they did.  For another twelve hours, as evening turned into night, and night turned to morning, the four continued to Cultivate with vigor and shared purpose.  And as the four of them grew, Lysette spent the bulk of her considerable mental faculties pondering the secrets of Omnia’s system while continuing to develop the Cultivation of the people of Ciricu.

She did discover one interesting feature of the system.  Contrary to her initial expectations, her divine abilities did not let her relock Cultivation potential of those who had already awakened, but her demonic ones did.  And those thoughts about demons being an inherent flaw— a byproduct— in the system made her wonder: Just what did Omnia really intend for Aimarion?  How much of the current conflict was as she had hoped?  And for what reason did she choose to fade away into her creation?

Chapter 230: https://www.patreon.com/posts/113503573

Table of Contents: https://www.patreon.com/posts/101896170

Chapter 232: https://www.patreon.com/posts/113573374