The special carriage was reasonably priced. For the price of a 5th realm pill, it was possible to engage the services of flying ships that would fly from point to point. It was a luxurious charter service available to the wealthy, and powerful.

  The ship was one of the Flaming Phoenix’s fastest ship designs, able to travel at five times the speed of Tundra’s own ship, and was decorated to be incredibly luxurious, because their owners could never predict who would use their ship. Though the captain was merely a 4th realm cultivator, but the ship itself was guaranteed by two of the great sects, the Flaming Phoenix, and also the Slicing Heavens Tower, and there were clearly protection formations of higher realm within the carriage.

  It was so fast, that there was nothing but a blur outside the reinforced lava glass windows.

  They had a private room, with three large beds, multiple cabinets and multiple tables. There was enough food and refreshments stored in a preservation cabinet for a month, and enough rice wine for a small army.

  Marin and Celestia spent their time reading some scrolls and tomes they brought along.

  It was still a flight that would take four days, even with the significantly faster flying ship. It would’ve taken them a month if they used their own, once all the stops were added.

  “Who are we meeting?” Marin asked, a little curious of whether Tundra actually had a plan. “Or is this just begging the Ancient Titans until they give us something.”

  Tundra laughed at how accurate she was. “Yes. You’re exactly right. I don’t know anyone over at the Ancient Titans Great Sect, so my only hope is to somehow make myself useful to a great elder or an ancestor and see whether the Ancient Titans would teach me their secret bloodline arts.”

  Marin stared at him as if he just said something ridiculous. “Really?”

  Tundra had some cards up his sleeves, but at the moment, he didn’t feel like revealing them, and it was not the right time. Not at their current strength. There existed some past interactions that led to some minor bad blood between the two sects, though Tundra believed the Ancient Titans wouldn’t find offense from such indirect offense in the past.

  ***

  “Edison.” Elly walked into Edison’s home. Her son was sitting alone by the balcony, staring blankly at the windows outside. She heard of her son from her daughter-in-law, and frowned. “How are you doing?”

  Edison turned, and rather than greet her properly, all he did was a curt, “Hello, mother.”, and then he turned back to look at the sky outside.

  Elly heard of the condition referred to by many different names. The hollowed cultivator. The spiritual maze. The broken heart. The trenches.

  It affects those who encounter a shock to their world and understanding of everything. Most cultivators have to find it within them to crawl themselves out of it. Other cultivators would try to jolt them out of it.

  “Father left.”

  “He did.” Edison answered.

  “I heard from Shuri that you’ve been sitting there for a while.” Elly said. Edison’s wife, Shuri, was worried enough to actually reach out to her mother-in-law, and that was all the sign Elly needed to know how bad it is.

  Once or twice was fine. But he’s been like this for days. He was like that frequently, some days he was fine, some days, he would just look out blankly, as if affected by something.

  Edison didn’t respond.

  “Did you have some kind of epiphany now that you’re in the 4th realm?” Elly asked, a part of her suspected that her son’s breakthrough to the 4th realm left some spiritual baggage. An imperfect breakthrough was just as dangerous as a failed one. A cultivator often didn’t realize what sort of baggage they carried with them, or maybe they did, but chose not to admit it.

  “No.” Her son answered. “All I have are nightmares of facing myself again.”

  Elly blinked. That was something she heard about. She cursed those ancient cultivators for being so cruel, always using illusions of themselves to leave such lasting pain. “I have some books that might help.”

  “I have read them. They write about a lot, but it is of no use.” Edison answered flatly, his voice in a tone that somehow annoyed Elly.

  “Then? You must overcome them, son.” Elly said.

  “Overcome myself?”

  “Yes.”

  His son looked distant, as if it was already set in his mind that it was impossible.

  Elly once heard from his father, and grandfather, that geniuses and monsters somehow always find a little bit more out of themselves. That even when faced with insurmountable odds they seem to manage to make the slimmest of chances reality. They always believed in themselves, most of all.

  Edison was afraid of failure. It was partly why he didn’t advance much. It was why he only moved when his father forced his hand, and paved the way. But every cultivator faces the challenges of the spirit alone.

  At the heart of it, even great masters like Tundra could not guarantee success, because there was so much of that cultivation that lurked within their will.

  “Edison.” Elly said. “You must. Your father already seeks to split the role of heir of the Verdant Snow and the Fox family.”

  Yet Edison turned briefly to look into his mother’s eyes. He wasn’t searching for an answer. No. He was resigned to it.

  He looked out of the balcony, into the distant horizons, and said nothing.

  Elly felt her heart sink.

  “Edison. Son. You must snap out of it.”

  “If words were all it took, mother.” Her son responded. “Please leave. I need time alone.”

  Elly’s hands trembled. Her son was too old to be disciplined like how young children often were. Edison was a 4th realm cultivator, and hollowed as he was, in combat that strength was still real. She took a moment to breathe. Two. Three.

  Her fists clenched. Shame. What would her husband think of her? That her son was someone who buckled under just a little bit of stress?

  No. She tried to take it positively. A treasure realm was a real challenge. To fall before a treasure realm is no shame. Breathe. She reminded herself again. She wanted too much to just somehow knock some sense into him. But Edison was right.

  If that was all it took, he wouldn’t be here. If that was all it took, there would’ve been so many more higher up on the cultivation realms.

  She turned. Angry. She wasn’t sure whether she was angry at her son, or angry at herself for raising him.

  First, Evan, and now Edison. Did she give Tundra two failed sons?

  In the world of cultivation, the tale of husbands and wives who changed or switched partners if their offspring didn’t meet their expectations was a regular affair. In imperial settings and even among sect leader families, emperors and leaders switched concubines if their offsprings were not worthy.

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  Elly wondered whether Tundra would take this failure as a black mark on her own position as the first amongst his three wives. For now, Marin didn’t have sons, and Celestia remains childless, so it seems her place is still safe.

  But future children are inevitable, and as Elly walked away from Edison’s part of the Fox estate, her mind thought about what she needed to do.

  It’s been a while since she had children, but if her current offsprings are failures, she would have to try again. If she didn’t and couldn’t provide a child of sufficient quality, her place and her ability to provide resources to her own family was at stake. As it is, Celestia was already the favored wife, even if Elly was still the first of the three in the family and the sect. If Celestia could provide a higher quality child, then her place in the family would lose out. It was indeed touching and it did soften her heart that Tundra was now affectionate and loving, but at the heart of it, Elly still knew why she was married to him. The care and concern he now showered her was welcomed, but political marriages need assurances.

  Tundra’s position in the world was rising, and her family wanted to be a close part of that rise.

  Her father and mother hoped that this would be their chance to finally gain enough strength on their own to break free from the harassment of the other regional rivals.

  A strong, powerful child was a better form of security than any contract.

  ***

  “Mother.” Annaly seemed tense as she entered Anna’s room. “You called?”

  “Yes. Did Lady Mistburn approach you on anything?”

  “No. Or, perhaps, not yet. Why?” Annaly said, a little unsure. Her daughter was still young, and still in the 2nd realm. A little more, and maybe she would be in the third realm.

  “I believe Edison’s place as the heir of the Sect is in doubt, and though things appear peaceful now, I am not certain what Lady Mistburn will do to shore up his position. We, that means the rest of us, might face some trouble.”

  Annaly knew what it meant. It meant a return to the times when resources for them were fairly restricted, because of how Elly and Marin both claimed a larger share of the resources. Lady Mistburn’s excuse was that they have many growing children, so, in her view, they should have a larger share of the resources.

  In the past few years, the resources given to the family as a whole had increased, and Tundra had relieved some of the pressure from their inlaws, so, the last two years really were a good time.

  “Ah.” Annaly caught it. “Should- should we tell grandfather?”

  Anna thought about it, but she remembered her father’s offer. Of a chance to be in another sect to grow up away from their father’s shadow. “Yes we should, but I believe there’s something we should and can do.”

  Annaly looked at her mother. “What should we do?”

  “Your grandfather offered to find us a friendly sect, and take us in as disciples. If you can get to the third realm soon, both of us can join another sect, and with your grandfather’s good reputation and fame, we should be fairly treated in these friendly sects.”

  “We’re leaving.” Annaly repeated, and blinked at her mother. But the realization eventually settled into her daughter’s mind, and she knew it was better to be in another sect. Her mother was in the 4th realm, and even in the bigger sects that was still a Core Disciple. The resources they have then may not pale to what they have today.

  “Yes. We should be making plans for that. For now, be wary of Lady Mistburn. I do not know what she will try to do.”

  Annaly nodded. “Should we tell Uncle Larian as well? They-”

  Annaly was right. If Edison was out of the picture, Larian, Link or Lashwin, could be made heir to the sect, though in Anna’s view, none of them were worthy. From what Anna understood, it’s likely father intended to groom Jihan, Elly’s grandson, for the role of heir, but that was unlikely to assuage Elly’s worries.

  “Yes. I will speak to your Uncle Larian and warn them.”

  ***

  The City of the Golden Fists was once the battlefield of two 10th realm immortals, between a legendary ancestor of the Ancient Titans, the Golden Titan, and an evil 10th realm demonic cultivator. The Golden Titan triumphed in that great battle tens of thousands of years ago, but the scars of that battle still twisted the terrain even till this day. From a flying ship or a flying sword, it is easy to make out the gigantic fist imprints on the terrain.

  “We’re here, guests.” There was a group of servants that ushered the passengers out of their flying ship. Golden Fists is home to a branch of the ancient Titans, and is a large, heavily populated place. Almost two million mortals live here, many of them employed in the various mining operations that happen underneath. It is said that the death of the demonic cultivator many eons ago seeded the land with energy and minerals, and so the Golden Fists’ mines are bountiful even till this day.

  The prime exports were the various forms of elemental energy-infused ores, useful for the crafting of weapons and tools.

  The Ancient Titans were primarily body strengthening cultivators, their focus was in the augmentation of their flesh and spirit, and so, they were famous for all things flesh and blood. Bloodlines, fists, muscles, spirit beasts and as a related profession, the cultivation of various types of oil producing plants and spirit beasts.

  It is said that cultivators of the Ancient Titan’s methods were taller and bigger, and here in the City of the Golden Fist, it was so easy to spot the disciples.

  Tall. Tanned. They often have the scent of oil to accentuate the natural beauty of their flesh. The tone of their blood vessels.

  Tundra guided them through the streets, and immediately visited the Branch of the Ancient Titans. They were here on official business, and so, an audience with their host was the first thing to be done.

  They were made to wait for half a day, before they were eventually summoned to meet with one of the local branch’s elders.

  Not even the Branch Leader, but just an elder, but Tundra decided it wasn’t an offense. At this point, he was only a seventh realm cultivator, and the elder that came to greet him was in the same realm. When viewed at that angle, it was beneath the 8th realm branch leader to greet a 7th realm cultivator who just happened to be a sect leader.

  “Greetings, Lord Fox. Must’ve been a long journey.” The elder said as the two exchanged some respectful greetings. Servants brought about some drinks, and the two elders sat down while both Celestia and Marin stood nearby.

  “It’s a pleasant one, and it is quite something to finally see the City of the Golden Fist for myself.”

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” The elder smiled. “But is there something we can help you with?”

  Tundra decided to lay bait, and sense whether the elder was the corrupt kind. “I’d like to see whether there’s an opportunity for friendly relations and whether there is an opportunity for us to be helpful.”

  The elder rubbed his chin. “There’s always room for helpful partners.”

  The Ancient Titans Great Sect may be a great sect, but every sect is composed of individuals who then act together. In reality, every sect has prominent families and factions, and so, each sect leader has to set up a structure where the individuals are incentivized to act together. The Ancient Titans, as far as he could remember, had five main families, the Yarblood, the Huan, the Goldrish, the Truehaven and the Earthant, and these five families were then split roughly into two factions, both supporting their own members for the future sect leader position.

  There was a change in sect leader a few thousand years from now, as the previous sect leader decided to relinquish his role and be one of the Great Sect’s protector ancestors.

  As with all great sects, what happened to that ancestor remained heavily shrouded in mystery.

  If he remembered correctly, it was Julian Earthant who became the next Sect Master of the Ancient Titans Great Sect, instead of Magnamus of the Huan. Both were ninth realm cultivators, and Julian Earthant’s successful breakthrough to the tenth realm cemented his role. Both failed many times in their attempt to reach the tenth, and at one point, there was some concern whether the Ancient Titans would no longer have a tenth realm cultivator as its Sect Master, and be relegated to the Great Pretender Sect instead.

  Of course, that was a pointless fear. The Ancient Titans have a few protector ancestors who are supposedly in the tenth realm. Whether they still lived, or a shadow of them remained to protect the sect, the strength of the tenth realm was not so easily extinguished. Momentum would carry them for another ten thousand years before they would be considered a pretender sect.

  “If I may, elder, may I know which family you are affiliated with?” Tundra asked, much to the elder’s surprise.

  “Oh? Is that how you intend to be helpful?”

  Tundra laughed. “Ah, please do not take it wrongly. It is just added context, and helps us frame the actions to take.”

  “Wise words, Lord Fox. I am affiliated with the Southern Huan family, but I am also in the service of the Southern Truehaven and Southern Goldrish families.”

  Tundra blinked. Ah yes. The families of the Great Sects are so large that over the centuries they have split into the Northern, Central and Southern factions.

  There was a minor schism between the Northern and Southern Huan family over matters of internal succession. Magnanus of the Huan was one of those that later united the two sides of the Huan family, and he came from the Central Huan family. Great Sects were like imperial kingdoms in their own way, even if their existence overlapped with many other Great sects.

  Lord Saljuk claims the knowledge of the blood arts of the Ancient Titans is quite widely spread among the elites of the Ancient Titans, so he didn’t really need to pick any one. Still, he had to verify this for himself.

  “I see, would it be possible for me to meet with anyone from the Southern Huan family? I intend to spend some time in this region, and it would be great for me to have some form of employment, perhaps as a tutor or a guide to some young masters.” Tundra offered.

  That was an offer that made both Celestia and Marin blink, and they shared looks at each other. He could feel them, and he understood. The original Tundra Fox would never relegate himself to the role of a nomadic tutor or wandering official that offered his knowledge and skills to the highest bidder.

  But after 10,000 years, and suffering through the last centuries of Zuja rule? A little bit of humility was really nothing.

  “Oh? Let me arrange a meeting, someone of your caliber as a tutor for the Huan’s young masters... Ah I said too much, I will send some people to look for you in your inn if the Patriarchs of the various families agree.”

  “Thank you for your time, Elder.”