—

  The very ground that Ryan stood on was replaced by enchanted glass. They had been walking of the sect the entire time. The glass that made up the roof of the sect contoured and mimicked the surrounding hills. The valley they were standing on was in the middle of the compound.

  People from below were already pointing at them. The glass cut away in a circle around the trio as it smoothly started floating down, taking Ryan down with it.

  Glass reappeared above them, covering the ceiling again. There was a shimmer then the glass covering was gone. It just looked like the original sky of the emerald hills. Cerul the shitcrow squawked and stepped back.

  Flying high in the air to avoid falling into a crowd of people it hadn’t noticed until now. Only a few animals could be seen through the ceiling. Looking a little weird as if they were standing on the air.

  Ryan gawked at the elaborate setup, and the sudden compound below him.

  Then the noise hit him. Thousands of people were around them, staring. Some looked at the sect leader and Ryan in confusion. Larix went back to a dignified pose. It didn’t really help that he was wearing plain clothes while Ryan was wearing his robes.

  The more interesting thing was that most of the sect didn’t even care. They were pointing at Gamielle in excitement and waving at her. She gave them a curt nod instead. Not the excited wave back that he expected from her.

  Ryan was trying not to get overwhelmed by everything as they descended. The buildings, the statues, the ceiling, the people…

  All of them started bowing to them as the platform got closer to the ground. Not at him or even Larix. But at Gamielle. She had a look of neutrality on her face.

  The platform finally landed and Gamielle stepped forward.

  “Please stand.”

  They all complied, looking at her with more than a bit of unnerving worship. Ryan looked at the faces and the people… they were mostly human, but had plenty of races from other people mixed in, dwarves, elves, even drakes.

  That was when he noticed something odd.

  A tenth of them had disfigurations. Some of them had limbs removed and others had clear issues that could have been solved by a regular [Healer] or a surgeon with a healing potion.

  Larix stepped forward and met the older realmers that were standing in front. They were wearing robes similar to Ryan’s. Larix went up to a human man that was chuckling at the Sect leader’s lack of attire.

  “I’ll be borrowing your robes, elder.”

  “Sect Leader?”

  “Now.”

  Ryan wanted to make a joke but he wasn’t sure how much further he wanted to humiliate the sect leader. People flinched as they turned to him.

  His Epic.

  Still, they didn’t scream and run. There was no real fear as long as Gamielle was here. They mostly only had eyes for her. He turned around and knew why. Seven statues were behind him. One leading the front.

  The Witch Tyrant.

  All of the people around them . They knew Gamielle was the daughter of one of their saviors.

  Gamielle smirked at Ryan’s realization. More people came out of the buildings, some leaping, some hopping, desperate to get closer. Gamielle started speaking, the words were catered to him yet it was loud enough that everyone could hear.

  “The origins of the Obsidian Sect come from the first few rebels that fought alongside the Tyrants.”

  Gamielle stepped forwards, the people parted to give way to her, all looking at her like she herself was one of the Tyrants. Their faith was blinding. She continued.

  “After learning that The Realm was a holy land for esoteric energies, the Witch Tyrant had an idea.”

  She signalled at the new people to stop bowing and rise. They complied, a look of dissatisfaction flickered across Gamielle’s face once more.

  “What if behind every single blade of grass was a mage? A cultivator?”

  She kept walking as the people stood tall. The older ones no longer looked like they wanted to worship the ground she walked. She nodded approvingly at them as she continued.

  “History showed that it was ineffective in the end. Raising a peerless cultivator takes far too much time and resources. A classless mage that can match the pace of a Trialist is one in ten million. And when the Tyrants beat the vaunted tenth Trial and ascended to Legends, these people were thrown in the wayside.”

  The people shifted, uncomfortable with her statement. Silence rippled through as they heard her words. A youthful voice shouted across, defying her.

  “That’s not true! The Tyrants never abandoned us.”

  A dwarven teen near Gamielle glared at her. A human man put the girl in a chokehold as he gave the kid a noogie.

  “I’m sorry mistress Gamielle, she doesn’t know when to hold her mouth.”

  They weren’t afraid of her lashing out at them. They just had that much respect for her that a word against her wouldn’t be tolerated. Gamielle bent down to be on the level with the teen.

  “No, it’s fine. Hello little Taris, how are you today?”

  The man let go as the teen rubbed her head and indignantly put her head up.

  “Take it back! The Tyrants never abandoned us.”

  Gamielle suddenly moved to take the man’s place and put Taris in a chokehold. She started grinding her knuckles into the poor kid’s head, grinning evilly.

  “I never said abandoned. I said they put you to the side. Because you’re all useless. Weak.”

  Some of the cultivators looked away in shame. Not all, not by a long shot. Most of them no longer looked at her like a figure to be worshipped, they took her words as a challenge.

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  They had heard this before.

  Larix was completely unbothered, his eyes shone instead.

  Gamielle looked around at the defiant crowd, then turned hopelessly at Ryan. She then stood up and dusted herself off and smiled mirthlessly at Ryan. Her voice grew louder.

  “These are the people that choose to defy their fate and challenge the heavens. With nothing but mismatched knowledge and constant trial and error, everyone here puts their body on the line to walk the path of a cultivator.”

  Everyone stood firm. A pressure pushed against him as Ryan’s Epic felt like a candle compared to the determination of thousands of cultivators forging their way.

  Larix stepped forward, he put his fist into his palm as he bowed.

  “We may be fragile and lacking, but one day we will be sharp enough to make any invaders bleed. Welcome adventurer, to the Obsidian Sect.”

  “Welcome!”

  The grounds boomed.

  –

  Gamielle and Ryan were ushered into a more traditional asian style house. The building layout of the sect didn’t seem to respect any sort of consistent theme. Brutal bare bones apartment complexes mingled with the more fancy looking buildings that were made with artistic care in mind.

  It felt somewhat similar to the very first town Ryan had walked through in The Realm. The atmosphere was maintained where it could but clearly thrown away when needed. The contrast unnerved him.

  It was like a world that tried to do both things, stuck between respect for the past but also optimizing and preparing for the worst.

  Gamielle smirked.

  “I wanted to give you a proper tour but it’ll take them a bit to settle. Best to do it later while they spread the word.”

  “How many people are in the sect?”

  “Over nine thousand. Though there’s only half of that number here at any one time.”

  That was still a lot, it explained the amount of compact apartments.

  “How do you keep it all a secret?”

  “The [Secretary] and blind devotion. Most of the people here would rather die than betray what they’re building here.”

  “Oh right, contract skills.”

  He should have guessed that one.

  “Not as important as you might think, tracking ten thousand contracts especially with minor infractions would be too much, even for Ella. The true problem is logistics. Keeping the supply chain a secret from all the snooping Earth nations is actually the most difficult thing.”

  “Can’t you just transport all the stuff in a storage bag?”

  Gamielle shook her head. “Cultivation needs resources, Earth nations already understand that warriors can be cultivated. It’s difficult to consistently keep the flow of reagents and alchemical products a secret when you buy them so regularly. If they learn what we’re doing then a dragonslayer can come in and ‘accidentally’ level this place.”

  That was a sobering thought. Thousands of Realmer cultivators and a single dragonslayer could wipe them all out.

  “Then why not announce it to the world? Relocate to a leveled zone near Ulverra or something?”

  “Naive thinking but not completely wrong. Just lacking one key fact.”

  Gamielle then waved her hand. As she did the door slid open as two men walked in. One of them was Larix and the other was a balding man. He carried a tray with an ornate teaset on top.

  The baldspot or the tea wasn’t what drew Ryan’s eye, instead it was the lower half of the man’s face. There was a fleshy growth that could charitably be called a tumor. It pulsed, thick veins distorting the shape as the man walked. Larix cleared his throat as he sat by the table.

  “Excuse us,”

  The bald man bowed as he noticed Ryan’s gaze even through the hood. The man chuckled.

  “Apologies for my appearance.”

  Ryan snapped out of it with a cough, “no, I’m sorry for staring. Could I just ask, why not get rid of your growth?”

  The man smiled serenely.

  “I cannot. Not without damaging the progress I have made. A small price to pay, though I do apologize for spoiling the tea with my visage.”

  He tried to splutter trying to assure the man that that wasn’t what had happened. The man took it in stride, clearly showing he wasn’t offended as he finished pouring the tea. Then the man bowed again to the three of them and left. A smile on his lips.

  Ryan turned on the amused [Mage].

  “What the fuck Gamielle? You don’t have to make him go through all that just to make a point.”

  The witch’s daughter picked up the teacup, she smelled the aroma and put it back down without drinking it.

  “It’s fine. But you get it now, right?”

  Ryan shook his head in exasperation, “Yeah, yeah. Cultivation comes with risk. Just like my arm. Thanks for the fucked up demonstration, real witchy behavior.”

  Larix didn’t notice Gamielle’s eyebrow twitch at his comment, instead the sect leader looked at Ryan in surprise.

  “I did not expect Artigan to be concerned with such things.”

  “Well yeah. If I was an actual asshole, Gamielle wouldn’t have brought me here. Artigan is all an act.”

  “Are you trying to say that killing adventurers, taking an old Realmer hostage, and destroying an entire town were all an act?”

  Ryan opened his mouth then closed it again. Gamielle chuckled as she lifted the tea to sniff it again. He narrowed his eyes at her, one of the main culprits for all his crimes. Ryan aggressively picked up his own teacup and loudly slurped it, keeping eye contact with the girl that was banned from food and drink.

  Gamielle narrowed her eyes back as he slammed his teacup back down. Ryan pointed a finger at Larix.

  “All of that is the Witch Tyrant’s fault. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be a regular adventurer going on regular adventures.”

  Well, that was technically true. He couldn’t really say that he’d choose to be a regular adventurer anymore. Not after everything he’d done.

  The sect leader opened his eyes at the revelations. Then he shifted uncomfortably.

  “I apologize for my earlier judgment. I’m sure the Tyrant has her reasons for such actions.”

  Ryan stewed in the silence. The sudden acceptance of all his crimes pissed him off. The moment it was mentioned that the Witch Tyrant herself was involved all the blame had gone away. That wasn’t right either, it was all his plotting and all his choices. Larix didn’t even question it anymore nor did he judge any of those actions.

  Then it hit him, Ryan looked to Gamielle.

  “Right, a cult.”

  “Yup.”

  Larix cleared his throat. “We are a sect focusing on self improvement for the betterment of The Realm and -”

  “You’re not helping yourself here. Quick, criticize a Tyrant.”

  “I do not see how that would help this conversation.”

  “You can’t do it. Gamielle talks shit about the Witch Tyrant all the time.”

  “Yup, she’s become one stone cold bitch.”

  Larix turned so red so quickly that Ryan wondered if he was going to burst a blood vessel.

  “Miss Gamielle! That is not fair to someone that’s had to hold up The Realm against the entire world. You of all people should know what she’s gone-”

  Larix Vailsafe froze and blinked, then he looked in horror at Gamielle and immediately quietened himself. There was a silence as Gamielle smiled coldly into her hot tea. Ryan had no idea what had horrified the sect leader so much but he was pretty sure that it was more than just the fact that Gamielle represented the Witch Tyrant.

  The Obsidian Sect leader stiffly turned to Ryan, trying to quash the previous argument.

  “We have respect towards those that have protected us against ravenous invaders time and time again. Part of that respect is trusting that they will do what’s right. Or would you argue that they have not helped to create a peaceful world?”

  Larix became more progressively passionate as he talked, ramping up his fervor and trying to justify his devotion. Ryan cut through it all with a dark look.

  “When was the last time you talked to the Witch Tyrant?”

  The zealous man was taken aback. He faltered at the question as Ryan realized he hit the man where it hurt. , Larix had to have been someone that grew up under her, .

  Ryan sighed.

  “No, fair enough. I’m not going to argue that she isn’t a good person.”

  “Yes well, I’m glad you understand."

  Gamielle scoffed, annoyed that the two men seemed to be seeking peace instead of giving her more entertainment. She didn’t push though. Ryan wondered if it was from the previous outburst from Larix.

  “Hmm, well now that you two have made peace, we can get back to the real matter at hand. Larix, can you check on Artigan’s body for me?”

  The man was muted as he refused to meet Gamielle’s eyes.

  “Of course Lady Gamielle. Please, Artigan, you may stay seated.”

  Larix stood up as he walked up behind Ryan. He kneeled behind him and put a hand on Ryan’s back. He shifted a little uncomfortably, giving Gamielle a raised eyebrow. She scoffed.

  “Are you doubting me now? Larix might not be a dragonslayer [Healer] but he is the most talented cultivator we have in The Realm. Unlike us Trialists he’s had to truly take every grueling step himself. He’s reduced cultivation mutilation rate by over six percent nearly by himself. There are few that will be better suited at helping you master your own energy path.”

  There was something odd spreading throughout his back, a pulse of energy trying to worm its way into his body.

  “I’d like you to stop fighting my Qi, can you do that?”

  “I don’t know how?”

  “Then this might be a little forceful. Please excuse me.”

  It suddenly felt like someone was trying to shove their hand into his back. Like they were shoving their fingers into his veins.

  “Just remember that I am trying to help, please relax and breathe.”

  “I’m not fighting anything.”

  Ryan took a deep breath and tried not to think about how sickening the invasive force felt. He closed his eyes, trying to find his center. A calm he tried to grab over years of martial practice.

  It wasn’t the right move.

  [Unrelenting Aura of Intimidation]

  Larix’s hand left Ryan’s back as his Epic flared out. Larix instinctively put both his arms up as defense as his skill’s active effect washed over the room.

  Gamielle frowned.

  “Artigan? Turn off your active.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s off, I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  The tea set shattered under a stray strand of his aura.

  “Uh oops?”

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